#i love the fact that no matter what i always have a dedicated amount of people who

[quirkfics]

Teeth w/ skeptic~?

The office lights flicker as soon as you reach for the power button, a steady chill crawling down the back of your neck. For a few seconds, you consider ignoring the warning. You really want to head out for the night, to leave the work for morning, when you’ll have a fresh perspective, but you know better. You’re almost finished, and if you leave now, you’ll come back to an empty file.  “You’re a sadist,” you mutter angrily, pushing away from the keyboard. “I’m getting coffee,” you call back over your shoulder, just to be safe. 

You round the corner, leaving behind the oppressive chill, and then nearly choke on your own tongue when you see him reflected in the dark glass of the office windows. He grins, all teeth and long dark hair, drumming his fingers impatiently on the keyboard of an empty computer. You don’t turn to face it, it only encourages the damn ghost, but you still linger long enough to read the backwards text he’s typed onto the screen. 

tlas rieht htrow eno lyno eht

“The only one worth their salt,” you repeat, scowling. If it wouldn’t set him off, if it wouldn’t give him more reasons to harass you beyond your sensitivity to his presence, you would flip him off. As it is, your scowl only makes his grin grow unnaturally, too wide, too strange, and he’s getting up from the desk, moving closer. Between his ridiculously tall figure and lanky limbs, he would have been startling, even in life. In death, he’s the stuff of nightmares, and he likes you.

“Coffee,” you declare, mouth gone dry as you speed away. You don’t look at anything reflective as you move through the office for the rest of the evening, but the phantom sensation of hands on your shoulders, of fingers tracing your ears or breath ghosting over your neck, never leaves. 

[remlionheart]

NSFW Alphabet: Osamu Dazai Edition ♡

♡༊·˚ mdni. ((dedicating this to my pretty gf @bratbby333 since she's the dazai to my chuuya and some of these situations were in inspired by our unhinged 5 hour long facetimes calls, *cough cough* "blood-chilling" *cough cough* ♡)) this was honestly so much fun to write. dazai would be SUCH a diva in a relationship but he would also be so loving and protective ugh. lemme know whatcha think, luv u ♡༊·˚

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

Dazai's almost always the first one out of bed after the fact. He already has a shower running for when he comes back into the room to hand you a towel and a glass of water. You tell him that your legs are too tired to walk all the way to the bathroom so he scoops you up into his arms. The two of you laugh as he carries you into the steam-filled room. He lets you get under the water first, squirting a generous amount of shampoo into his palm as he instructs you to turn around. "Suppose your hands are too tired to wash your hair, hm?" You bite back a smile, giving him a pitiful nod in response. "My poor girl." He hums. His long fingers massaging into your scalp feel like heaven. He leaves light kisses along your shoulder, running a washcloth over your body while whispering sweet little nothings like "How'd I get so lucky?" into your skin as he cleans you off. It's hard to believe this was the same man who was making you beg on your knees for him just twenty minutes ago.

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

Aside from his body's infuriating aversion to death, there aren't a whole lot of things that Dazai doesn't like about his appearance. Aesthetically speaking, he finds himself fairly attractive so it's hard to narrow down one thing he likes best. If he had to though, he'd probably go with his hands. He's always gotten compliments on them, but after seeing what strong reactions they're able to coax out of you so easily, he's realized they're one of his most valuable assets. As cliche as it may be, your eyes are his favorite feature. He finds it adorable how they always tell him what he needs to know without you ever having to say a word. They tell him when you want more, when you want less, when you're about to hit your breaking point. They guide him in the right direction every single time. Plus, they're just so fucking pretty to look at.

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

The only thing more blissful to Dazai than hearing or seeing your orgasm is tasting it. His head is buried between your legs, his fingers pumping in and out of you deliriously as your thighs start to lock around him. You're spasming for him again, your voice breaking as you call out his name and your hips buck up towards him. "Dazai, I can't -" You whine. "'m so... sensitive -" "C'mon baby, please." he groans, "Just one more f’me." his tongue swirls against you with fervor, his digits still greedily plummeting into you. "Lemme taste it, lemme feel it. You’re sooo close." His fingers curl at just the right angle, his tongue faithfully lapping against you as you finally fall apart for him. He moans at the sweetness that spills down his chin. "You taste like fucking ecstasy, you know that?"

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

It's not necessarily a secret because in his defense, if you were to bring it up or ask him about it, he'd tell you the truth. But Dazai can't help it that you've never inquired about his exes and he's certainly not going to offer up the fact that he knows every single person you've ever been with going all the way back to the boy you kissed on the playground when you were 4 years old. Or that he just so happens to know all of their current addresses and their moms’ maiden names and where they work and their social security numbers. I mean, does it even really matter anyway?? He just got a little curious, that’s all!!

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

Dazai had been with his fair share of partners before meeting you. Sex wasn't something he was ever shy about. He did a lot of experimenting, especially when he was spending the majority of his time drinking. He's always felt comfortable in his body and never saw the big deal about sharing it with someone. It wasn't until the two of you started dating that he realized just how binding sex could be. That it could transcend well beyond the simplicity of skin against skin contact. Being inside of you was the closest thing he'd ever felt to a religious experience. It felt like coming home after a long day. No matter how many hookups he'd had in the past, there was nothing that could've prepared him for how good you'd feel.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He likes any position that allows him to see your face. His favorite is probably fucking you from the side though, both of you facing each other with his arm hooked under your thigh, letting him go as deep as he pleases. He gets lost in the way your pupils dilate when he plunges into you. The security of your arms wrapped around his neck as you whimper and wriggle against him. There's something so intimate about watching you come undone from this view. Feeling you drench him while he kisses you over and over. "Let it out, baby. I've got you. Doin' so good - fuck, baby you're doin' so good f'me."

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

As passionate as Dazai is when it comes to being inside of you, he's still able to find a level of a humor in just about anything. He's a Gemini, after all. If he's too serious for too long, he'll simply die. You're on top of him with your hands tangled into his for balance as you grind against him. Your hips are rocking back and forth at a pace that's making his breathing uneven. You feel proud, thinking his reaction is a sign of you doing a good job until you watch his head roll to the side, a stupid smile suddenly visible as he tries to bury his face into the pillow. You quickly realize it's not a moan that he's holding back, but a laugh. Your movements come to an abrupt pause. "Dazai." He tries his best to keep it together, but the scolding tone in your voice coupled with the stern look you're shooting him is only making it worse. “Wait, listen -" he tries to explain himself, but he's powerless to his own thoughts. A burst of suppressed laughter fills the room as he covers his face with his hands, still feeling the weight of your glare on him. "R - remember -" he struggles “Last week? When you were telling me about that book you were reading and...." he nearly snorts. "And you described it as -" Your lips press into a flat line, your eyes glazing over as you realize what he’s getting at. You knew the second you messed up that phrase, you'd never hear the end of it. "Are you seriously still laughing about the fact that I said 'blood-chilling' instead of 'bone-chilling?'" "BLOOD-CHILLING!" He repeats with the most obnoxious cackle, narrowly dodging the pillow you throw at him.

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

Dazai spends more time grooming himself than you do. Hours in front of the mirror looking at himself from every angle to make sure what he's done is up to his standards. He's subscribed to one of those manscaping services where they mail him out a surprise bundle each month of new products to try. When you go down on him one night, he asks "...Does it smell like teakwood?" Your head pops up immediately, unsure if you even want to know what he's hinting at. "What?" "Nothing... it's nothing."

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

In love, Dazai worships you. He has every inch of your frame memorized and knows exactly what each tiny movement and whimper mean. He's studied your body like it's his lifelong passion and he's learned how to make it respond so well for him. Your hips just barely buck up while he's on top of you and he smirks, his hair lightly brushing against your forehead. "You sure can handle the whole thing? Figured you'd still be sore after last night." You shake your head back at him with the poutiest expression, your core aching for more. "I can take it." you insist, "I can -" He challenges your sureness, giving you another inch only to see your eyes roll into the back of your head. Your hand gripping onto the sheet above you. He'd never deny you of anything you wanted, but especially not when you looked this gorgeous. He grabs your hand, tangling his fingers into yours before drawing back and burying himself into you. "That's my girl." he groans, reeling in the way your walls so eagerly swallow him. Your breathing is erratic, your composure completely gone as you writhe and clench around him. He knows you're right there. You start to close your eyes, but he stops you, bringing his free hand under your chin to redirect your attention back to him. "Let me see it, angel. Show me." He slams into you again, giving you every inch of him this time. "Show much you love this." And you do. You show him three times in 20 minutes how much you love it.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Dazai's the first to admit that he has a high libido and if the mood strikes, he's going to do something about it. He gets bored easily, so he has a variety of different mediums to get the job done - the 'hidden' folder on his phone that's filled with pictures and videos of you, romance mangas, fleshlights, audio porn, hentai. He's not afraid to experiment even when he's alone.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Dazai is a true switch and will really fall into either being dominant or submissive depending on the situation. There are nights he gets off work and starts throwing out demands like, "On the bed. Now. Legs apart f’me." as he strips out of his jacket and pushes you down further onto the mattress. But, the are other times where he's dying not to be in control anymore. Where he's had to make too many decisions and he revels in the way you take the reins. The way you climb on top of him and whisper "good boy" as he grows hard beneath you. The only thing he loves more than making you beg is begging for you.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Dazai has a bit of a thing for voyeurism and recklessness so when Kunikida hires a driver to pick the two of you up to take you to a dinner for the ADA, Dazai has no hesitation on hiking up your dress in the back of the limo. Peeking up every so often to see if the driver has even noticed the way your tits are pressed up against the window for passing cars to see as your vehicle speeds down the highway. You arch your back perfectly for him, giving him full control as he plunges into you. Your walls are so snug and gushy, he knows he won't last long. But you're enjoying this just as much as he is, playing with your clit as he grabs your hair and pulls you up to kiss him. "You like knowing that people can see me fucking you?" he whispers, biting down on your bottom lip. "Your cunt’s drippin’ alllll over me.” "Fuck - yes.” You moan, feeling your legs beginning to shake as you let out a strained. “I’d let you fuck me anywhere.” His smirk deepens, his thrusts becoming more frantic. "Don’t make promises you can’t keep, angel.”

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

Dazai's pretty easy to wind up in general, but he definitely has a thing for asphyxiation. Perhaps it stems from the lingering effects of suicidal ideation, but the feeling of something cutting off his airways makes him feral. When you're on top of him and you reach for his throat, he nearly fucking melts. If he could choose any way to die, he'd request for it to be at the mercy of your loving fingertips digging into the side of his neck.

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

There aren't many things that Dazai wouldn't do. Not just sexually, but in general. His curiosity almost always gets the better of him no matter the situation. The only time he's ever told you no was when you were being too hard on yourself. He walked in on you picking at your body in the mirror. Pulling your skin in different directions to see what you'd look like if your arms were thinner or what you'd look like if your nose leaned more to this way instead of that way. His heart sank. All of the post-work fantasies he had built up over the day disappeared the minute he saw how frustrated you were. "Hey," he whispered, coming up behind you and gently wrapping his arms around your waist as his chin rested on your shoulder. "Please stop being mean to my girlfriend. She doesn't deserve that." You tried to brush it off as a joke, leaning up to kiss him while he held you, but he pulled back. "I'm serious." he ran light fingers over your stomach, his eyes locked with yours in the reflection of the mirror. "We're not doing anything until I hear you say at least five things you like about yourself." He could see past almost any crime or murder, but he drew the line at you degrading yourself.

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

Dazai's all about both, but if he's being completely honest with himself, he loves the feeling of your mouth around his cock. How cute you look when you struggle to take the whole thing. The way your eyes widen when he thrusts into your throat. How thorough you are, turning the act of going down on him into a work of fucking art. Even though you’re the one submitting to him when you get on your knees, he still feels like he's at your grace. You feel so good, he'd do anything to keep your lips wrapped around him.

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

Just like anything else, pacing could go one way or the other. The thing about Dazai, is he wants to do whatever you want to do. Even when he's in more of a dom role, your pleasure is still his main focus. There's no such thing as wrong time or wrong place as far as he’s concerned. If you wanted him to fuck you slow and sensually in the club bathroom, he would. He'd dim the lights, lock the door, lay his jacket down for you to sit on as he propped you up onto the sink and kissed you passionately. If you wanted fast, rough, filthy sex by candlelight on a bed of roses, he would. He'd wrap his hand around your pretty little throat, mocking the way you're struggling to breathe as he bullied himself into you while you’re surrounded by romantic ambiance. Whatever you want, he does too.

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

If there was a tornado approaching your house at a reasonable speed, Dazai would still find time to have a quickie with you. Especially if he thought it was the last thing he might ever do. He wants to feel you as much as he possibly can. The construct of time really means nothing to him. You have to log onto a work meeting in five minutes? "I can fit under the desk, baby :((( they won't even see me. Just spread your legs and keep a straight face, okay?" Your parents are on their way over? "They drive so slow anyway, angel and the door's locked. Promise we won't get caught." You're waiting for food to be delivered? "Bet I could make you cum twice before the doorbell even rings." Getting to spend five minutes in you is always better than spending five minutes out of you.

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

Dazai isn't just willing to take a risk, he's usually the one pushing for it. Any time your phone rings, his hands are suddenly roaming along your body, his fingers dipping into the softness of your underwear as he starts to kiss your neck. He knows you're on the phone with your boss, that makes it even better. He wants to see how long you can keep your composure while he torments you. Your eyes are like daggers when you look back at him, but your cunt betrays you entirely, grinding against him needily while he smirks. He picks up the pace, reeling in the subtle way your thighs shake. You're trying so hard to sound so professional and coherent, but your thoughts are everywhere. You're having to hit the 'mute' button every few seconds just to let out a whimper. Dazai nips at the nape of your neck, slamming into you with an extra finger this time causing you to nearly drop your phone. "Ahh ~!" But there's no time to hit mute with how he's suddenly plunging into you. Your boss asks if you're okay and you have no choice but to hang up. "Dazai -" you try to keep your voice firm, but you can barely see straight the deeper he sinks into you. "What - the... fuck -" Each word is a moan, your hand grabbing desperately onto the collar of his shirt. "Dazai," "Somethin' wrong, baby?" "Dazai, you can't -" But he already is. He already is so bad. "Dazai, please." You're not even sure what you're pleading for anymore - if it's for him to stop or continue. Your walls are squeezing him so tight, your heart slamming into your chest as more uncontrollable whines fill the room. "Dazaaiii ~" you whimper again, soaking his hand as his thumb brushes across your clit. "Ohmygod, fuck. You can't keep doing that." "No promises." He smirks, carefully pulling out of you before bringing his fingers to his mouth. "It's not my fault you taste so good."

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

It all depends on the mood, Dazai's pretty versatile. Could he fuck you for hours? Yes. Has he? Many times. It's no secret that he loves watching you struggle to walk the next day after having your legs pinned against his shoulder. But he knows he can't do that every time. He generally tries to follow your lead and give your body what it wants - whether that's 20 minutes of gentle, deep, intimacy or an hour of a mating press followed by overstimulation. As long as you're getting off, so is he.

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

His nightstand is filled with an assortment of silicone stimulants for the two of you. Cockrings and vibrators and bondage kits. Out of all of the subscription services he has, getting a bundle of mystery toys delivered to his house each month is by far his favorite. He always waits 'til you come over to open it. Pouring you both a glass of wine as you divvy them out and argue about decide on who gets to use what on who.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Osamu Dazai lives to tease you. As far as he's concerned, the only reason the sun rises each morning is so that he can find new and exciting ways to make you grovel for him. He'll tie your hands together above your head, slowly unzipping his pants in front of you. Forcing you to watch as he strokes himself above you, groaning out lewd little nothings like, "Oh fuck, 'feels soo good." while he smirks at your pouty little face and the way you begin to squirm underneath him impatiently. “See how hard I am? God, just imagine what it'd feel like inside you." His hand pumping uppp and doownnnn tortuously out of reach. "Tell me baby, would you want me to go hard and fast or reeaall slow and deep?" He fucking moans while you writhe helplessly against the mattress, your neglected cunt throbbing. "Dazai, please." "Poor thing." He mocks, still jerking himself to the sight of you looking up at him with pleading eyes. "You can do better than that though, can’t you angel? C'mon, make me believe you.”

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

There's no denying that Dazai's loud. You make him feel so fucking good and he wants you to know. He'll have a fistful of your hair, groaning out your name while your tongue swirls around his tip. "Fuuuck.” He whimpers. "Oh - my… god." Tiny hearts cloud his vision as he watches your throat fill with his length, the heavenly sounds of you gagging on him echoing across the room. Your eyes gloss over, spit pooling down your chin when you look back up at him, your tongue still pressed firmly against his base. "S'fucking gorgeous when you suck my cock." His praise only make you go faster, drawing out the prettiest whines from him. "Nnngh ~ don't stop, baby.” His grip tightens in your hair. "Don't. Fucking. Stop." His hips buck up with each syllable, his rhythm unrelenting as lecherous tears begin to spill down your cheeks. You keep going though, drowning in the noises he's making for you. "Right there, right there. 'm gonna - oh fuck. 'm -" You feel him twitch inside your mouth before a flood of warmth suddenly coats your throat. "Swallow f'me, angel." his voice is so heady and delirious, it comes out as more of a beg than a command, "Fuck... Yeah. Just like that, mmm, god, just like that." You take it all in, not letting one drop go to waste. "You're sucha good girl, you know that? Sucha good fucking girl."

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

Dazai gives the illusion that he's not jealous. That it doesn't bother him in the slightest when you go out with your friends or when you stay at the gym longer than you said you would. He does trust you - completely, actually. He knows you'd never do anything to jeopardize your relationship with him. It’s the outside world he doesn't trust. When you're driving home from work, he's watching you through the location sharing on your phone. He stares at the screen intently until he hears you pull into the driveway. When you’re at the bar, he knows the importance of girls’ time and he’d never spoil that. He simply wants to make sure no one is bothering you. He shows up, stealthily lingering in the background, watching his pretty girl laugh with her friends and dance with a drink in her hand the way she should. He loves seeing you have fun, he doesn’t want to take that away from you. He just follows behind your Uber to make sure the driver gets you to where you're going safely. He's seen too many tragedies between working for the PM and ADA, he can't take the risk of letting anything happen to you. So, he doesn't. There's absolutely nothing off limits to you. The entire world is yours. You just... might see a man in a suspicious looking jacket that bears an eerie resemblance to your boyfriend trailing behind you from time to time while you're out. It's only because he loves you.

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

Standing at a solid 5'11, Dazai's decently tall and slender - surprisingly muscular underneath all of those bandages. His waistline is so pretty and his hands? God, those long beautiful digits have brought you to your breaking point more than a few times. Besides excelling in dexterity, he's also packing. A perfect blend of length and girth that curves ever-so-slightly as if it was made for the sole purpose of hitting your g-spot.

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

Dazai would bend you over in in front of the Pope if you'd let him. He's unapologetically ready to go at any time. He can't help that you're just so gorgeous and that his eyes are always glued to the way your hips sway when you walk in front of him. He yearns for you constantly, even when you're not around. If he could have a 10-hour loop of you moaning his name that's what he'd use as white noise to fall asleep to each night. He can't help that his dick twitches at the thought of you. It's not his fault you're so pretty :((((

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Rest has never come easy for Dazai. He's tried every natural (and narcotic) sleep aide he could get his hands on. Put down multiple bottles of Pinot Grigio and still found himself up for days on end. Up until he met you, he didn't think it was possible for him to sleep for more than two hours at a time, but the first time you invited him over to your apartment changed everything. The two of you had been talking for hours - laughing and debating and sharing secrets over a bottle of cherry whiskey. He could've stayed up long past sunrise with you but when he noticed how tired your eyes were getting, he offered to take you to bed instead. Both of you stripped down into lazy pajamas. You, in an oversized t-shirt with nothing underneath. Dazai, in his boxers. You looked so peaceful when your head hit the pillow, he was sure that you'd be out soon, but to his surprise, your body had other plans. Your lips were soft against his, your hands gently roamed along his body as you pulled him on top of you. You smiled at the way his hair tickled your forehead. The sun was just barely creeping through your curtains, grazing your face as he slid into you, highlighting the pleasure that had taken over your features. It was all so hazy and comfortable. Your room filled with heady mid-morning noises while his body thrusted generously into yours. There was something so intimate about it that it nearly brought you to tears. You felt full in every sense of the word. When you were both good and spent, the two of you laid in the middle of your bed with your head nestled into his chest. He played with your hair, watching you fall asleep in his arms. He'd never felt more human than he did in that moment. His eyes closed, his mind turning off for what felt like the first time in years as he drifted off with you.

ㅤ ೀ ㅤ۫ ㅤ۪ㅤ۫ ㅤ ♡ ㅤ

‎♡‧₊˚ here's chuuya's version if you're new here ‎♡‧₊˚

[twizzie-lairs]

My Darling, My Honey

Alastor X Fem!Reader (Part 5)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Quick Notes:

This is when both reader/you and Alastor are both alive. (... we'll probably end up in hell later on btw so stay tuned...)

Reader is an artist/painter.

Part 5:

It was almost pure bliss.

Except many months later, you found out a secret of his one day.

He was an exceptional chef, you were always in awe of how he cooked such magnificent dishes every day.

But one day, you peeked out into the forest through the window in the living room and saw Alastor standing alone, covered in blood. Your first instinct was to run outside, so you did just that.

You rush to his side and ask if he's okay, and what had happened to make him covered in such copious amounts of blood.

He blinks a few times before oddly turning his head to you, breaking out of his stupor, "Oh my dearest (y/n), do not fret so. For I am only acquiring our dinner for tonight!"

You look down at what he is holding in his hands. Your hand shot up to cover your mouth. A leg. A human leg. Your eyes then trail to the ground where you see a bloody human body, mangled beyond recognition. "This is.. dinner?"

A large grin appears on Alastor's face, "Quite right! This one should be enough to last us through the week!"

He looks at your face with an almost vicious look to his eyes, awaiting your response anxiously, not that he would let that show, anyways.

All you can manage is "Oh. Okay." Before you walk back inside the house without another word.

It's no exaggeration to say that your brain chemistry was permanently altered from that moment onward.

The situation felt so strange and bizarre, you didn't know what to think. Part of you knew that was he's been doing is extremely horrible and corrupt. It almost made you empty the contents of your stomach, it didn't feel real.

It didn't feel real, but suddenly some of Alastor's behaviors started to make sense. His picky taste for food...He never let you help with cooking, you had chalked it up to him being more of a perfectionist, but now... you know its more than that. He was hiding the fact that he was butchering and preparing human flesh, right in your very home, all this time.

But.. for some reason... all you could think about was how dedicated he was to providing a comfortable life for you, because he truly loved you. Everything he did every day showed you that you mattered and that you deserved only the best.

"But I still love him with all my heart... maybe I'm just as messed up..." Was a sentence your mind kept repeating to itself for quite some time.

Your appetite shrinks after the initial shock for a few days, but you were never one to skip meals or have your appetite be gone completely, even if you were sick. In this instance, you weren't sure if it was a blessing or a curse in this case.

The meals he made for you had never made you sick in the past, so your body was already used to eating his cooking, and he made such amazing food, carefully crafted with such love and attention to detail, you couldn't help but keep eating his delicious cooking, no matter how bizarre and immoral it was.

"I think I really am just as messed up..." The thought crossed your mind again, but thoughts were interrupted by a rare occurrence, a kiss on the cheek from Alastor as he set your plate down in front of you.

The fact that you never stopped eating his cooking and always thanked him for his food and hard work, even after knowing where the main ingredient comes from, solidified the fact that you were the one. You loved him even after seeing him all bloody, holding a dismembered corpse, and telling you it was dinner. It was this pivotal moment that he knew, that you were the one to be his beloved forever.

In the coming weeks, things went back to "normal". You were settling into the new normal, as Alastor didn't hide the meal prep like he used to, and seeing him bloody and bringing in mysterious cuts of meat into the house became a normal sight to you.

One night when you were going to see Mimzy, Alastor informed you that he was unable to escort you that night. You were a little disappointed, but he assured you it was okay for you to go, it was just that he had plans that he wouldn't divulge any information on, no matter how much you pressed him.

Little did you know, but that night, Alastor was out on the town shopping for the perfect ring to propose to you with.

-> Part 6

[ennabear]

professor!abby hcs 😸

daily click | boycott tlou

as i’ve said before, if you have time to read this, you have time to help palestine in whatever ways are possible for you. do your daily click, sign a few petitions, boycott zionist companies, and donate if you can. there are so many amazing resources on tumblr, please please utilize them.

one thing about professor!abby is that she goes crazyyy when it comes to buying more books. her ideal date is strolling around a bookstore together, however, these dates always end with her buying a hundred dollars worth of books.

every single time you let that woman walk into a book store, it’s like you have to keep her on a leash. yes, abby, you can get that one. no, abby, we don’t have bookshelf room for a whole series. she’s unstoppable, she’s like a fat kid in a candy store. but she’s so adorable!!!

her goodreads account is insaneee!!! some of her students follow her, of course. she writes entire in depth reviews about EVERY book she reads. in fact, her favorite part about finishing a book is writing a goodreads review. and you best believe she updates her reading progress every night.

and she’s never not reading a book. she doesn’t prefer to carry a purse or a bag, but she’ll gladly put her book in your bag whenever you go out. she reads EVERYWHERE. at a dinner party? she’s reading. her best friend’s birthday party? she’s reading. at the gay club? reading. and she claims that it’s not rude because “everybody knows i read a lot. if anyone has a problem with it, maybe they’re just not a real friend!!”

she’s a little bit of a coffee freak. a surprising amount of her money goes to buying the most expensive and exotic coffee grounds she can get. there’s nothing she loves more than waking up to you making her coffee before work. sometimes, if she’s feeling extra emotional, she’ll hold your face in her hands and tell you how much she loves you while tearing up. what a big baby she is!!

our girl definitely has anxiety problems. if she ever has to leave the house without you, she’ll text you every 10 minutes asking for advice and reassurance. she trusts you so much, though. your advice is all she’s ever needed.

adding on to the last one, she’s a teeny bit insecure too. her past relationships absolutely wrecked her twenties and she never bothered to start dating again after that. sometimes she thinks she’s too old and unloveable for you, but she’s just being silly. she’s our little kitten princess and she deserves the whole entire world!!!!

on a more positive note, she loves the outdoors. sometimes she’ll wake you up before sun rises and force you to go hiking with her. no matter how much you complain, she knows you still like spending time with her, and the sunrise is always beautiful from her favorite spot.

i think before she became a college professor, she had to student-teach for 3 years, starting with first grade. imagine miss abby with baby muscles going over the spelling bee words with her littles, or playing tag with them at recess. miss abby was definitely their favorite, and a few of her students cried on her last day.

but i don’t think she’d want her own kids, just a dog is fine. it’s too much of a responsibility for her and she wants to dedicate all of her time and energy to you. but she does have a few nieces and nephews from her adopted sister, yara. and she’d be more than happy to babysit.

as much as she loves reading, she likes it more when you read to her. especially because most of the time, she’s exhausted from being awake and grading assignments for so long. so she likes to lay her head on your chest while you read to her, even if you have no idea what’s going on in the book.

watching movies with her is an absolute nightmare. if there was a book version, she’ll keep whispering “god… that’s not what happened in the book.” and then afterwards, she’ll explain everything they changed (aka did wrong) and why the book was so much better.

she definitely has a pair of reading glasses. i don’t think she uses them all the time but sometimes when she’s tired and just wants to read, she’ll use them because they make it easier for her to see the words through her sleepy eyes.

sometimes she so sleepy that she falls asleep while reading. it’s your job to take her book out of her hands and place her bookmark in it before it falls on the floor. on more than one occasion, she’s woken up at 2am to her book face down on the floor, no bookmark, with your head snuggled into her neck. it makes her a little bit grumpy because now, poor poor sleepy abigail has to decide between searching through all of the pages to find the one she was reading last, or taking her girl to bed and tucking her in. such a tough decision!!!

[mondaymelon]

— 𝘀𝗮𝗴𝗮𝘂: 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗱 𝗼𝗳 𝗮𝗰𝗼𝗹𝘆𝘁𝗲 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆? ♥

:feat~ diluc, childe, kaeya, zhongli x gn!reader:

(warnings~ obsessive behavior, cult au!)

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open!) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside

DILUC is just about as dedicated as they come.

And while his schedule is tightly packed, he spends every free minute he has by your side… Just listening to your voice energizes him more than any amount of rest will! No matter what has happened in the hours prior, everything, all worries, just seem to wash away when he faces your holy presence!

You are a pure, perfect being in his eyes.

Every breath, every step you take, should be heralded as a gift.

The only thing stopping him from abandoning all of his duties and staying with you for every waking second is… well, you, who insists that he has to do his work too. And if he disobeyed that order, you’d be upset at him, and he certainly can’t have the creator like that! If you glared at him… told him that you despised him… well, Diluc might as well just die.

Because he lived for you, and if you found him useless, then that was just what he was. He was what you determined he was.

And that fact almost reassured him.

“Diluc… you have to make sure not to overwork yourself.” His head is in your lap, eyes blissfully closed as you comb your fingers through his fluffy red hair.

“Right now, I feel better than I ever have, my savior.” ♥

Blissfully loyal CHILDE.

Who trails after you all day, every day, wanting to help you in any way he can! It was your voice that spoke to him, comforted him in his darkest times, it was you, the miracle who saved his existence. He doesn’t even want to imagine what’d he be like if you weren’t there for him… Most likely still, cold… with noone to bury his sorry corpse.

So now, he has to repay you, no matter what. He can’t just take your kindness for granted!!

After all, without you, he wouldn’t even be here. So, he’s dedicated himself to you, his life, his love, to do something, anything to benefit you.

It doesn’t matter if the other fatui members and cultists think ill of him - because they don’t matter. All that matters is you, you who is always on his mind.

“Childe?”

“Yes, my majesty?”

“I don’t know what’d I do without you.”

His eyes widen, just by a fraction, and his steady breathing hitches.

Has his heart stopped? Was this the afterlife? How come he couldn’t hear anything anymore?

“...I…” He can barely utter a word, and it’s less than a whisper.

“Is it so selfish that I want you all to myself?” ♥

Overprotective KAEYA, who can’t stand it when other cultists try to take his place.

And why should he stay silent? He has to make sure his position by your side will never change, otherwise, you might tired of him!

His flirtatious side hides his more desperate one - desperate for your attention. Your affection - your shy touches. He wants you, all of you.

But he can’t be so selfish and hasty. After all, the Savior has blessed millions and earned countless devout followers, and he’s just one of many.

Still, a small part of him has hope.

Hope that maybe, just maybe, he’s special to you.

He could be that greedy, at least, right?

The greed that fuels his racing, aching, heart whenever he’s by your side, listening to your beautiful voice with a love-sick smile.

“Kaeya, don’t you ever get tired of following me around? You should have some time for yourself… am I being a bother…?” You sheepishly glance at the blue-haired man whose walking next to you, shoulder brushing against yours. 

“Never, for as long as I live, will that ever happen.” ♥

Unwavering ZHONGLI, who will follow you to the grave and beyond if you will it.

For you, he’d do anything.

And that’s no understatement.

Ever since the death of his past lover, he had grieved, conspired against the heavens, let hatred run amok in his heart. He had directed his sorrows toward you, set his sharp gaze to you, and sought to seek revenge. Sought to seek answers. 

Why had she died?

What had she done wrong?

Why did you have to take her away from me?

But all of his troubles seemed to dissolve when you descended. It was as soon as he saw you in person, eyes glittering with unspeakable knowledge and the air of absolute fragility - as if one misspoken word could fracture you, forever.

And since that day, he had sworn to repent. Sworn to be by your side until the end of time.

“Zhongli, why do you always act so indebted to me? You’re free to act more comfortably, if you like.” You glanced at his form as he poured you a cup of tea. The man only smiled in return, before staring up at you with his seemingly golden eyes.

“You are my savior, and you deserve to be treated as such.” ♥

(a/n) inspiration is back along with a bailu theme yippeeeee yeah so im not sick anymore hehehasfadgdg

[echoedcrosshairs]

Unseen Scars ~ p.2

Summary: Female Jedi survived order 66 hides out in the underground of Ord Mantell. Hiding out in Cid's parlor keeping your head down you see Rex's face and get sent backward in time. (Gif by @dreamswithghosts)

Warning: Order 66 Jedi Trauma, Feeling Haunted, Soft Rex, Angsty and Love

Word count: 2.7

Masterlist part 1

Facing all that you fear will free you from yourself. Your nerves were still on edge tempting you to flee being around the rest of clone force 99 even if their chips weren't activated they were still at risk at going nuclear at any moment. Although the walk back to the parlor soothed your nerves being Echo and him again but going into the parlor into such a cramped space didn't help. Rex positioned you behind him hoping it would help sooth you, his arm went around your waist ready to shove you away if necessary. Nonchalantly Echo had placed himself between Rex and the rest of his brothers, he may have trusted them with every bone in his body since they rescued him but you were still the commander to him. They both wanted to protect you even from a non existed threat. It was comforting that after all this time Rex and Echo just had to look at each other to know what the other was thinking. The 501st may be gone but the bond between them lives on.

"Do you think the Commander will rehabilitate?" Tech said flatly looking at you then back to Rex mind conversation, "Obviously I disagree with the systematic eradication of the Jedi, she does not possess the same mental fitness as we clones have been bred to endure and the order has seem to take a heavy toil on her mental aptitude for returning to the fight."

"The Commander-" Rex started, "Can speak for herself," you cut in.

You swallowed looking at Tech, "A wise man once said Truth enlightens the mind, but won't always bring happiness to your heart. It is a lot to accept and understand but it doesn't heal the fact my own men, men I trusted with my life and fought beside for years, tried to terminate me nor the death of so many allies. That same man also said 'Ignore your own instincts at your own peril," you paused to look at them and up at Wrecker before your eyes shot back down, you couldn't help feel that something was wrong but the force was beckoning your silence, "I am not ready to find myself in that position again."

"Well get them out," Echo said defiantly, "We'll never be a threat to you, ever."

"I'll be in touch," Rex nodded pulling you away from them towards the exit but waited to speak until he put a decent amount of distance between you and Hunter, "The force is telling you something isn't it?"

"They have to get them out, soon. How did you get yours out?"

Jesse... Vaughn... Your mind wandered to the battlefield, having the 501st at your side. The boys always wanted to die in battle but never like that. You wiped the corner of your eyes, "They were good men," you choked out when he was done.

"The best."

The both of you continued down the street in silence, at some point your hand found his. It still hurt to look at him but his presence helped the pain, "Now what?" you whispered.

"You can stay here... or you can help me save my brothers, I have to try."

You looked at him, the conviction as dedication across his face was the same one he had before a battle, "I'll come," you whispered before you had time to think it through, "Don't know how much use I'll be, Tech has a point."

"It doesn't matter, just having a Jedi with us is enough especially you Commander," Rex said squeezing your hand, "We should gather your belongings, the boys are destined to pick me up shortly."

Weaving between side streets it was an easy back track to your tiny place, Rex found a bag and quickly packed your clothes as your hand rested against the slats in the floor concealing your past.  You scooted up lifting the slate with the force letting your free hand dig out the pouch after putting the board back you opened it retrieving the saber. The weight felt foreign in your grasp, the metal cool to the touch. You flicked it up into the air catching it with the other hand, just like riding a speeder. Looking over you saw Rex observing with a small smile before he returned to packing, you tucked the saber away.

"Are you sure about this?" he said slinging the bag over his shoulder but not looking at you trying to hide the grim expression. He would keep giving you a chance to go back to a normal life if you wanted one even if it hurt him, the war took so much from you he didn't want to be the reason you lost any more.

"Facing all that you fear will free you from yourself," you stated with a heavy breath, it wasn't the simple answer you knew Rex wanted but it was the truth, "If you remember Anakin and I were never one for running when things got tough. I think I've hidden in the shadows long enough." That statement was the first sliver of hope you had in a long time. Your eyes found Rex's, fondness had swept over them at the mention of the old days, the simple days. Keeping eye contact you took the short steps across to him tucking your face in his neck holding him. Your body still screamed run but your heart told you not to let go.

His hand found your back rubbing it, "We should get going," he sighed not wanting the tender moment to end, "Let's meet the 105th," he smirked.

"Did you really just switch the numbers?" you said with real genuine laughter.

"No, but I think I'll start calling us that if you make that beautiful sound again," he said putting your arm through the crook of his, "Let's go."

Finding the ship wasn't hard, it was discreet for the most part in the back of the docking station. The only tell tale sign that it was different then any of the standard ships around the port had been a barely noticeable white mark barely indistinguishable in the shape of Ashoka facial mark hidden near the bottom of the haul by the ramp.

Rex squeezed your hand tightly finding the nervous expression on your face, "None of these men will ever be a threat to you," he said giving the ship three solid knocks.

Your heart shook as the anticipation grew, these are Rex's men. Deserters of the Empire, they could be trusted. Right? I trusted my men... Clam grew over your skin as the ramp finally touched the ground. Looking up you found a green trooper looking down at you, one of master Yoda's men? You watched the trooper salute, standing at attention coughing to get the attention of the other trooper hanging near by who repeated his attention.

"Commander, this is Nemec and the brother over there is Fireball, at ease," Rex said giving them a stiff nod.

"Nice to meet you, Sir," Nemec said as you walked on board after Rex.

"She's a little skittish around us clones so give her breathing room."

"Don't blame her," Fireball murmured, "I barely ever want to see our face again," he heard Nemec cough finding the glare he was giving him, "Just saying, I can barely stand to look at it after what our brothers did."

"His chip's defective, deteriorated but unlike Tup's it didn't execute the order early. It's out now. He took the loss of his General hard and found me soon after," Rex whispered.

"Let's get out of here, I'm going to show the Commander around," Rex said gesturing away from them, "Refresher, their room, my room, mess... sorta," he shrugged, "storage closet, I could turn that into your private room if you want one," he shrugged again nervously rubbing his neck at the unspoken question hanging in the area.

"I think I should share yours Captain, I'll want my own bed of course."

Rex's heart skipped a beat, "I can arrange that," he tried to keep his stern dignified expression but felt like a cadet, of course their had been nights together but never like this coexisting in the same place, "Sorry," he coughed finding the responsive blush across your face. "Anyway, you can take my bed for now. I'll go grab a spare mat from the storage room," he said setting the pack down on his bed excusing himself so you to get settled in. It's not like before di'kut, the reminder settled in his bones wondering if all of the closeness had been to much. He tried to steal himself to that possibility. Taking a seat outside the room, he forced himself to clear his mind until Nemec walked over.

"You sure about this, Captain," he said jetting his chin towards the door, "We need a Jedi on our side but are we sure being in these cramped quarters is good for her?"

Rex understood his brothers concern, he looked at the door for a moment before placing a hand on the man's shoulder, "She was always the backbone holding the men together after every major loses and always giving us hope. It's time we do the same for her." His tone was firm, "I trust her, she choose to come with me for a reason. I believe she knows she can work through this."

"Did you ever think she came because she loves you?"

"Trust her judgement, Vod," Rex smiled taking his hand off his shoulder, "Let's head to base." Turning on his heel Rex rummaged through the storage closet grabbing the rolled up mat before heading back to his room. Our room, he thought smiling. When he returned all of your belonging had already taken up the spade signifying your stay with him.

"I haven't seen or slept on one of those in ages," you smiled softly looking at the poor express for a bed as he laid it out, "I'll take the mat if you want the bed-."

"Don't even think about taking the floor Mesh'la," he said bringing his gaze to yours, "We'll head to our base to plan to get The Bad Batch's chips out and you can see everyone else, I know their's a couple other 501st troopers who'd love to see you," he smiled.

"Who?" You asked going wide eyed.

"Hawk and Dogma," his grinned widen, "I definitely didn't expect it either," he cautiously said walking forward letting one hand fall to your hip, "A Jedi and a captain, whatever are they going to think," he jested hearing you laugh melting some of the burdens in his heart, "I've missed you every passing moment, Cyare," his grin faltered for a second before returning, "No matter how long it takes I'll wait for you to be ready again," he said letting go, "the rest of my life if need be. Now I have to try to figure out how to get their chips out."

"Captain?"

"Yes, Mesh'la?"

You took the step back towards him wrapping your arms around his neck, the familiar scent, feel of him and the warm tiny tug through the force, "Thank you for being patient," you pulled away wrapping your arms at your side, "We can use the republic scrap yard, their were rumors of a ship being delivered."

"And you know this how?" Rex smiled crossing his arms.

"I did have a salvaging job to get by."

"I'll let the boys know and we can devise a plan, welcome back Commander."

You followed after him, skin prickling at Nemec and Fireballs presence. They each offered a small smile as you took the sit next to the Captain as he started planning. He was quiet for what seemed like forever when he hand stretched out and rested in your thigh as he kept working. You looked down at it, lip quivering as tears threaten to fall again. It's a different time, you placed your hand over his as you chimed it time to time with what little information you had.

"Rex?"

"Yes, Mesh'la?" he said not lifting his eyes from the task at hand.

"I'll love you the rest of my life too," you whispered squeezing his hand, "I think we're getting ready to land again," you said feeling the ship slowing down.

Rex gave a tiny nod standing up interweaving his fingers with yours, guiding you towards the cockpit finding Fireball bringing the ship down. You observed the low tech handmade building and the small cluster of troopers already waiting outside, greens, greys, a red and then the 501st blue. You saw the familiar valiant tattoo across Dogma's face and then the red hawk wing tattoo's on Hawk's temples. Walking off the ship Rex placed himself between you and the rest of them, each set of eyes noticing the hands bound together. You felt like you were going to be sick being around this many troopers, it apparently must have paled you.

"Commander, you're not looking so good," Hawk pointed out.

"Let's get some air Cyare," he said softly, "Hawk, Dogma both of you are coming with me to help a couple of our brother's get their chips out."

"Yes, Sir."

Gently you felt Rex stir you away from the crowd away from prying eyes towards the edge of the small base, guiding you towards a crate to sit on overlooking the forest, "Better?" he asked quietly.

"Do you think Tech's right? What if-."

"A wise woman once told me when I was losing faith in myself; A soldier's most powerful weapon is courage. Courage begins by trusting oneself. You choose to come with me, Commander, you could have stayed on Ord Mantell and lived out a regular civilian life but you didn't."

"You've been waiting since Tibrin to toss that back at me, haven't you?" you said with a smile sad laugh, your gaze travelled to the sky remembering other sayings you were taught; Who we are never changes, who we think we are does. One must let go of the past to hold on to the future. To seek something is to believe in its possibility. I was- I am Jedi, a Commander in the Grand Army of the Republic and partner of one of the most highly decorated Captain's. I do not run when the battle get's rough, I stand beside my men and face evil head first. I am survivor of Order 66, I lived to fight another day. You exhaled a breath you were apparently holding. Turning your head, you took his appearance forcing your mind to calm down and body to still. The familiar earthly tone of his eyes; the arrays of brown to shimmering golds, the short blonde hair, the expressive eyes just for you and a smile that puts very sun to shame. While your body tried to fight but your mind had already come to terms with reality, it might take for your body to catch up but it would be worth it. Rex would be worth it. You watched his hand come up and caress your cheek, your breath hitched as you leaned into it bringing your hand to his.

"Possibly," he smiled finally answering the question, "Ready to go back?"

"Yeah, I want to see the boys," you smiled.

Rex pulled you closer to him, "Let's go see the boys," he affirmed keeping his hand around your waist stirring you around troopers until he found the two other blues in the back rolling up their sleeping packs.

"Sir," Dogma saluted before staring down at Rex's arm, "Regulations-"

"No longer exist," Hawk pointed out, "Called it," he chuckled.

"Nice to see you too, Dogma."

"Sorry, still getting use to it," he added nervously.

"Me too," you mumbled.

"I am happy for the two of you," Dogma quickly added, "When are we leaving?"

"In a couple hours," Rex said feeling your body slowly continue to tense. His mouth fell agape when you reached out hugging the two of them, "I've missed you, boys," you whispered before pulling back. Rex's hand found your waist again feeling the muscles constrict themselves into knots. He stirred both of you back to the ship to your's room, "That was bold," he murmured eyeing you cautiously as you climbed onto the bed.

"With great risk comes great rewards," you offered, gently tugging his hand towards the bed smiling as redness flushed across his face. Sheepishly he removed his poncho and armor discarding it to a regulation neat pile on the floor, “How about until we leave I try to get use to being next to you again?”

“There is no other place I rather be then next to you, Commander,” Rex smiled climbing into the bed, “Just tell me when it becomes to much, I don’t mind taking my time with the scars I can’t see.”

[xerith-42]

*bats my eyes at you* spare some angsty headcanons perhaps?

Ask and you shall receive

Laurance is triggered by the smell of burning hair. Bro had hair down to his waist and then went into literal hell, I imagine so much of it caught on fire or was maybe even deliberately burnt, and it's such a distinct smell. It rarely happens, but if a stray spark from the fire accidentally catches on Cadenza's hair Laurance kind of freaks out a little. Fight or flight kicks in but he freezes but he also fights but he's also frozen and that smell is so awful he literally wants to rip his own skin off.

Katelyn doesn't ever think she'll love again. It's why she's so put off by Travis' advances, she just doesn't think it's a possibility. Every time she thinks about love she thinks about Jeffory. Seeing him on the island, even if it was an imp, did not help matters.

Kenmur still loves Sasha. He will always love Sasha. There is no amount of time that will stop him from loving her. Even if he also loves Emmalyn more than life itself, even if he's dedicated himself to his wife and his studies, there's still always that part of him that will answer to Sasha. Whenever she's around he can feel himself being pulled towards her just from the sound of her voice.

Zianna hates the sound of silence. So many years completely alone in such a huge estate. By the time Zane and Garroth disappeared, she was effectively estranged from her husband, only staying so they can maintain this cover of the Lord and Lady of O'Khasis. But their home is massive, designed for an entire family and then some. Even after Vylad and Garroth "died", Zane kept the house busy and often had Jury members present. The hollow emptiness of her home is nearly maddening for the poor woman.

The only reason Zianna never left is because she still held out hope for all of her sons. Zianna held out hope that any one of them would come stumbling in through the front door, likely beaten and bloody, and she would be able to take them into her arms and welcome them home.

This could very well turn into it's own post but here's a few small relic angst headcanons. Aph starts to lose her sense of self because sometimes she'll talk and it won't sound like her. They have mostly similar speech patterns, and she says things she would normally say, but it sounds like someone else, and she can never put her finger on it. Others notice, but nobody can quite figure out what's wrong with it. Until Zoey hears it and says it sounds familiar.

Travis usually likes to be a bit of a know-it-all, having a lot of random bits of trivia he's just learned from years of having nothing to do but entertain himself alone in a cabin, but sometimes the facts he gives are on subjects he never studied. He knows it's because of Enki's relic and he can't do anything about it. He hates how monotone his voice sounds whenever it happens, like he isn't even happy to know this information.

I'm sorry but we cannot gloss over how much turmoil Garroth would be over getting Esmunds relic after Zane already had it. He lies awake at night wondering what the three of them have in common, what he and Zane have in common at all. How could the protector bond with such a destructive awful man? How much is Garroth really like his brother? Can he even say he isn't like his brother if they were able to bond with the same relic?

Zoey may not have personally known all the previous relic holders, but she saw them. She was ten when Irene was walking among the mortals. Sometimes when she looks at her friends she sees... someone else. Someone so familiar, so similar to them, but the details aren't right. She can't tell if this is an effect of the relics or her own dwindling sanity/life force after giving up her immortality.

And entirely for myself because I will keep rewriting Aaron in my posts, Aaron feels such tremendous guilt like all the time. The survivors guilt has consumed everything he is, even the relationship that's supposed to be healing it. All he can think about is how he let everyone down, when he was supposed to lead them. Aaron wears the bandana not because he's hiding his identity, but to hide the permanently miserable look in his eyes.

[merakiui]

MERAAA AHH YOUR WINTER WOES !!! And I thought I was devout to Azul.. 🛐

Okay; Let me start thinking how I can articulate and express my feelings about this fic.

#1 The dialogue. You HAVE to understand, I was kicking my feet up, giggling so much. The way you incorporated Jade's down bad behavior into his thoughts which slightly differs from his dialogue- AH ┻⁠┻⁠︵⁠ヽ⁠(⁠`⁠Д⁠´⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠︵⁠┻⁠┻ I LOVE IT !!!!

#2 Deception. YOU REALLY CAPTURED JADE'S PERSONA HERE. His mildly hidden deception > < ) Oh the chokehold he has on me rn cause of ur fic!!! Bro was lying straight from his gaping serrated maw 🫶 And it was perfect! I was jumping up and down every time I saw the contrast in his thoughts and words, I can not STRESS the fact that I ended up laughing so heartily on that scene where he straight up lied to MC about the possible pregnancy; You're way of story telling and build up is so 👌✨ *chef's kiss*

#3 The interaction. Between Y/N and Jade is so 😩👉👈💗💓💘 Surprisingly, this is one of your most gentlest Jade in the Jade multiverse and it was certainly a treat. I feel like I was just fed a full course meal for free. Definitely an unforgettable experience (⁠๑⁠♡⁠⌓⁠♡⁠๑⁠) I mean, as IF Jade would ever let you forget about what happened. THE BANTER ?!?! The banter. Golden. MC's genuine concern vs Jade's hornybrained desperation (⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Yummy !

#4 Jade. Of course. GOSH, I wanna sit here and yap to you all about how startling soft and sappy this made me. Which really shows how amazing your writing issss!!! Who else can spread Jade propaganda like this but you 😔 Azul Nation stay strong ! ୧⁠(⁠ ⁠˵⁠ ⁠°⁠ ⁠~⁠ ⁠°⁠ ⁠˵⁠ ⁠)⁠୨

Anws I'm scared of absolutely bombing ur inbox so I'll stop it here > < ) Like Jade, I also still have some self control. Take care of urself <333 Ty for the fic !

- I can't choose an emoji; A garden flower.

( ≧ᗜ≦) AAAAAA THANK YOU SO SO MUCH, GARDEN FLOWER!!!!! Please never be scared of bombing my inbox!!! You can yap as much as you want!! I'll always be grateful to read your words!!!!! <3

I'm so happy all of those aspects of the fic were enjoyable!! I wanted to try my hand at writing another version of Jade who is soft and sweet. Writing from his pov is so fun, especially when he's in his mating season and is so very desperate and down bad. >:D as someone who is also very dedicated to Azul Nation, I fear Jade is trying to creep his way into my heart...... more than Azul!!!! >_< truly, we must all remain strong for tako!!!!!!

I really can't thank you enough for your kind words!!! I loved writing this type of Jade, and I think his relationship with the reader is very cute. Reader who is genuinely concerned for him contrasted with Jade's own one-track horny brain. I had fun writing all of his moray behaviors!! The gaping maw and the need to hunt an absurd amount of food for you in order to provide for mate. orz aaaaa his rizz is questionable, but his heart is in the right place (mostly ;;;; he's still lying about a few things, but that won't matter once you're knocked up).

I think a Jade who is vulnerable like this is very wonderful. He plays submissive just to better manipulate you, but it's difficult to tell where the line between act and truth is. <3 what a menace...... orz

[vibratingskull]

I as so excited you open your request.

Can I ask a ThurfianxF!reader based on your Thrawn mate story? I would love if reader was sent to the Chiss Ascendancy by Thrawn (like he knew reader would match with Thurfian by her smell or something)

This will challenge our xenophobic boy, and I'm sure the fact that out of all he gets to meet his "mate" thank to Thrawn, will piss him off more than the fact that the reader is human.

g:xkf;glghogfuhfd THURFIAN MY BELOVED ❤️❤️ My old man ❤️❤️❤️ He would have a heart attack in all honesty 🤣

Beautiful drawing by the talented @thrawns-backrest

Tags : Thurfian is an ass, xenophobia, mate system and culture, attempted assault, Thurfian saves the day (Go King!)

Thurfian lays his head on his hand, scrolling on his comm. He likes to get an idea of the current climate through comms during his rare break times throughout the day to compare the info he receives on his official feed on his computer. It helps him get new points of view and perspectives. 

That also means going through an impressive amount of tabloids. He really should look into how to block these sites on his comm, they are a nuisance and a disgrace to true journalism. He is scrolling through one of them rapidly when the title of an article stops him. 

“Truly cut for the role? Why the Mitth Patriarch’s lack of mate highlights a worrying trend.” 

He remains fixated on that one for a solid minute, completely flabbergasted. His first instinct is to call his lawyer to have that tabloid closed for the affront, but it passes quickly. Instead, he puts his comm down sighing, feeling tiredness washing over him. He passes a hand through his long braided hair, laying his head back against his chair. 

The most painful thing is that that rag is true. All Patriarchs of every family recorded in history with a big H had a mate, no exception ever. Some found them sooner or later in life but none reached his age without a partner sitting with them on the throne. He is quite the exception. 

The shameful exception. 

He feels Thivick disapproving gaze on him during diplomatic dinners with other Patriarch and their mates, the seat next to Thurfian being desperately empty. 

His hand comes to loosen his collar to allow him to breathe better. He closes his eyes, feeling defeated.  

It was not always like that in his life.  

He used to collect lovers back in his youth, potential mates or not, none were safe from his charm. A large collection of Chiss visited his bed when he was a young adult. He shamefully admits that he played potential mates to get access to their intimacy before leaving them when they were no longer fun. Non-potential mates were less difficult, they both knew what they were here for. And then he started his career as a syndic and left dating and playing around in the past to dedicate himself to his career. He, naively he will admit, thought he would meet a new potential mate at work, getting to know each other day by day, falling in love over time, and deciding to mate and unify himself with her, finishing his life at her side. Something simple and uncomplicated. 

Boring to some, sufficient for him. 

But all the women he met were taken, non-compatible, or rejected him. Mates tend to get together young when they can, way younger than he was already back then. He made peace with his situation, choosing to focus on his career and what he could do for the Mitth, becoming a “mateless”, one of those people who failed at settling down with a compatible person in time. Not the most glorious, but he could do with it. 

And all was well. 

Until he became a Patriarch. 

And his situation was brutally rubbed into his face again. 

A Patriarch without a Mate is a failure.  

No matter their results.  

Having a mate is the first step toward respectability in Chiss society, and a Patriarch failing at that task is the subject of gossip and mockery and always on the verge of being overthrown in favor of a more stable individual. It is such an easy insult to throw at him. And he fully deserves it. If he didn’t play so much with potential mates in the past he wouldn’t have his sulfurous reputation of player and heart stabber. Not so many potential mates would have rejected him since then.  

He recalls how he used to modify his smell with perfume, something highly prohibited in Chiss society. Misguiding the potential mate of someone else by modifying one’s scent markers is highly illegal. 

But he was young, hot-headed, and an idiot. 

And today he pays the price of his entire life choices. He grew and matured decades ago but the harm had been done. 

Sometimes he envies mateless species. Simply living and falling in love or living free of the marital and mating duties... Sounds comforting and liberating. 

When was the last time he felt the presence of a potential mate? 

Several years, easily. 

More than ten years since he last smelled that delicious scent of honey,  liquor, and tea leaves on someone. The one scent signaling him that this person is compatible with him. The same as his. 

He greets his teeth. 

“The Mateless”  

His unofficial title when his back is turned.  

His shame, his dishonor. The stain in his life. 

But what can he do now? He is fated to finish his life alone, the question is more about how he will meet his end. Back in time, non-mated Patriarchs could get executed for failing their family, for being too unstable, and for not providing an heir to the family. 

It was millennia and millennia ago, of course. Chiss evolved past those barbaric laws, but the prejudice remained, remembering Thurfian that ages ago his life choices would have guided him to the pillory. 

Thurfian suddenly freezes and opens his eyes wide, almost trembling in shock. 

That smell... 

No. 

It’s impossible. He must hallucinate, that’s the most logical explanation. 

Thurfian suppresses a laugh at his own idiocy. Of course, it is impossible. Crossing paths with a potential partner at his age is simply improbable. He shakes his head with a light chuckle, what a stupid thought just crossed his mind! 

He turns back to his files, waiting for the hallucination to settle. 

But five minutes later, the scent he stopped hoping for is still here. Well present.  

Heady. 

Overporwering. 

Making his head turn and his heart pumps harder. He almost starts feeling vertigo.  

He gulps, passing his hand through his long hair. 

He needs to calm down and be rational. 

This is impossible. 

But the delicious scent of tea leaves titillates his nostrils, like a dare, like a temptation. 

He needs to be sure! 

He almost jumps on his feet, before remembering who he is and calmly exiting his office. He is the Patriarch and a Mitth for the Warrior’s sake! He slowly, almost lazily walks in the corridors of the Manor.nHe really needs to keep his expectations low. They surely already know about his scandalous reputation. But maybe... 

Just maybe... 

They could come from a far enough away world to have never heard about it! 

Highly unlikely! 

But he cannot help but hope. 

The further he walks into the Manor, the more significant the smell of tea leaves gets, the notes of honey and liquor mixing deliciously, enhancing that superior scent. Thurfian chides himself. By all accounts that mysterious person will already be taken and mated to someone else. But nothing prevents him from coming to meet and befriending them. 

Yes.  

A friend is also appreciable, he has so little left since he accessed the throne. He nods to himself. A friend would be perfect.  

His comm rings, prompting him to stop to check it.  

It is a Syndic of the family signaling that a stranger with the highest priority code message wishes to meet Thurfian, waiting for him in the Manor’s salon. The message is short and leaves no guessing about the urgency of the demand.  

But not even a family name? Thurfian frowns, dubious. 

And the salon is exactly where the delicious scent is leading him right now.  

When he reaches the large and heavy old-style wooden doors of the salon the delectable smell invades his lungs and nose, he can breathe it in at each inhalation. That’s definitely them! 

He opens the door to meet the Syndic who sent him the text. 

“Patriarch?” They ask surprised, “What are you-” 

“I am here to meet them.” He cuts them short, walking past them. 

“Ah! Patriarch! Wait! Plea-” 

Thurfian keeps going and passes the arches with palpitations. 

He turns his head and...! 

Stops dead in his tracks as the stranger turns their head to his arrival. 

An alien! 

A... Human!  

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

“I need your help for a delicate mission, Commander.” Grand Admiral Thrawn said to you, skirting his desk to sit. 

“Of course, Grand Admiral.” You stend to attention, “What can I do to serve you?” 

Thrawn smiled tightly. Always energetic and willing to serve, obeying every one of his orders and missions with brio and excellence. You were one of his most trusted officers with Karyn Faro. Nothing he could ask you would throw you off your rhythm or deter you. 

You crossed paths pretty early in your respective careers. You were one of the first to recognize Thrawn genius and merit in warfare and followed him ever since, asking the chain of command to affect you with him on every ship he received the commandment of. 

Your loyalty towards the Empire slowly melted into loyalty towards the Chiss. He never said anything, that he, himself, could fail and precipitate your end. That he could become your very death if your true colors were revealed.  

But you were just so good at your job! He trusted you with his life and he worked to keep you both out of the blast radius. He needed your competencies and skills at his side. 

But... 

Maybe the Ascendancy needed you more. 

He remembers. 

The man, looking straight at him with cold detachment during his trial before disappearing in silence. 

His Patriarch. 

Single and alone. 

Unstable, they would say. 

How could he command the Mitth family in those conditions? 

Thrawn somehow sympathises. He knew he could only rise so high in Chiss ranks as a mateless, that at some point his genius would stop carrying him and his mateless character would stop any further ascension.  

They needed someone with something to lose in command.  

Not an unstable like him. 

And as freeing as it was for him to come into a system where mates were not the norm, he also realized long ago that he couldn’t change his home in any meaningful manner. That the mate order was here to stay.  

But maybe he was also not the only one suffering in this system. Now that he has risen to the top he understands the pure loneliness and isolation that come with power, but if it is here to stay for him, he can maybe still lend a hand to that man. 

It is not uninterested, far from that. It is purely strategic. Chiss politicians seemed to care a lot about the mating order, to the point that mateless individuals could get fired at any given moment in favor of a mated. And Thrawn remembers his History books, the fate reserved to mateless Patriarchs. 

To those men and women who failed to conform to Chiss values and therefore weakened their families. And although he has no real good grasp of politics, he has no difficulties imagining that a weakened family of the nine could greatly destabilize the current system and the Chiss Ascendancy as a whole. 

So if he sends you, his little miracle back home, maybe he could help stabilize the powers in place. That was risky, but beating the odds is his trademark after all. 

 Admiral Ar’alani discussed it with him lately, confirming that the Patriarch that sent him away was still in place, still mateless, still unstable, and therefore dangerous to the Ascendancy. 

Thrawn could very well wait for him to fall and get replaced, but Ar’alani told him that he remained a very powerful blood Mitth. A powerful blood Mitth that would owe him a very, very huge debt if his plan worked. And he knows he will need all the allies possible when he gets back from exile to the Ascendancy. 

So maybe 

Just maybe 

If he sends you to that man... 

You may just be his ticket to more power and freedom to protect his people.  

Honestly, he didn’t believe it at first when he met you. How could you, an individual from a mateless species, be compatible with a Chiss?  

But his smell didn’t misguide him. Your scent and pheromones are highly specific and match his Patriarch’s profile. 

By all means it was a crazy plan, but he already agreed with Ar’alani that she would take you on the Steadfast and guide you into the Ascendancy. As an Admiral without ties to any family, she will be able to give you access to the Mitth Manor by playing her cards right and he will give you his message, his “peace treaty” as Ar’alani called it. 

That’s very much not his style and usual strategies but how could he survive in the long run if his tactics don’t evolve with the times? 

“At ease, Commander. It is a very peculiar mission, that will need fineness, dexterity, and tact, but I trust you. I know you will rise to the challenge!” 

“For you, I will!” You assured him. 

‘For you’ 

If you were any of his other officers he would have chastised and corrected you in an exemplary manner! You were here to serve the Empire and not just a single Grand Admiral.  

But your relationship evolved past that point long ago and he came to appreciate your devotion to his person. 

And right now he hopes this devotion is as deep as he imagined it for you to accept this mission. Because this is not just a diplomatic mission. It is a life-changing mission. 

Mating with someone isn’t a laughing matter to the Chiss and he knows full well you will go without knowing your true purpose. 

He cannot reveal it to you.  

You would say no. 

Understandably. 

And he does feel guilty to trap you in such a way, but he knows his time is limited in the Empire and he must prepare his return to the Ascendancy. And a willing Mitth Patriarch could ease a lot of difficult situations. 

 He remembers his discussion with Ar’alani a decade ago, about how he saw people as tools. He needs to see you that way to send you there, no matter the friendship that came to form between you two. He eases his guilt thinking this is not such a horrible fate for you, to become the Mitth Patriarch mate is to live free of worries and wants, in a comfortable home with sophisticated and cultured persons. 

You will have it easy. 

At least money-wise...  

Ar’alani warned him of Commander Eli Vanto’s tepid welcome among his people and chances are you’ll get the same. He knows you can take it, he is more worried about the Patriarch’s behavior. 

Will he ever accept a human as a mate? Will the Chiss accept a human as a Patriarch mate? 

Your status as a diplomatic agent will protect you but as soon as you will set foot in the Manor, the Patriarch will understand and his reaction is unplannable. 

But those who don’t try and take action get nothing! 

“I need you for a diplomatic mission. A very, very long diplomatic mission...” 

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

"State to me again. Why are you here?" The Chiss asks you. 

You straighten your back and readjust your position on your chair. What doesn’t he understand ? 

“I am here on behalf of one of your good friends. I bring you a message and an offering of peace and appeasement, he also asked for me to offer my service to you.” You repeat, controlling your tone to not sound condescending. 

It is simple really. 

The chiss, the ‘Patriarch’ looks at you intently, his hands clasped before his lower face, his burning red eyes fixing you like he was trying to disintegrate you. What’s annoying you is his manner of bringing a perfumed handkerchief to his nose every five minutes, like he was keeping a gag at bay. You took a shower and dressed in a freshly washed uniform, why does he act like you reek? 

Does Chiss have more sensitive olfactive receptors? Does humans smell is that unnerving to other species? Thrawn never specified any such info to you. 

“Because you think he is one of my… ‘Good friend’?” The Patriarch asks with a sneer. 

“He is your fellow Chiss, and a Grand Admiral of a close power nation with sensitive information about the immediate survival of your Ascendancy. He considers it sufficient to demand you listen to his propositions." 

The Chiss eyes fall back on their equivalent of a datapad, reading again what Thrawn proposed. You’re only the messenger with Admiral Ar’alani, Thrawn didn’t specify to you the intricacies of his proposition and wrote everything In Cheuhn, his mother tongue. 

As the man reads again the terms of the treaty you take time to observe him in more detail. Tall, with deep blue skin, and burgundy red shiny eyes, despite being older than Thrawn he is dignified and haughty, clearly still having long decades before him as Chiss live longer than humans according to your Grand Admiral. His clothes are expensive with very intricate embroideries and multiple layers of pricey fabrics, the prominent red color seems specific to this family. Braided long hair in a sophisticated fashion, makeup enhancing the sharp Chiss features, now you know why Thrawn had the habit of underlining his eyes with red eyeliner… A single intricate ring, probably a family heirloom, proof of his role as head of the family.  

So this is the man... 

The one you promised Thrawn to serve, for ‘the good of both species and future diplomatic relationships’ as he put it. You silently sigh. You are doing it for him. For the genius that he is and his mission… You had all the time to question your sanity and why you accepted. 

But you know why… 

Because Thrawn’s gaze was clear and assured, and this could only mean one thing 

Victory. 

Thrawn warned you this mission could take as long as a year, if not more… way more. But you accepted nonetheless… 

Well at least this ‘Patriarch’ isn’t displeasing to look at, it is your only consolation considering his bad temper. He never once was impolite but made absolutely no effort to make you feel welcomed and comfortable. 

As a soldier, you don’t mind. As a diplomatic agent, his lack of concern is a red flag for the mission. 

“Why you?" He asks out of the blue, eyes lazily raising back to meet yours, or rather to make you lower your head. 

You don’t. You look straight into his burning gaze, unflinching. Is he asking why Thrawn sent a woman? His contracting throat muscles indicate his real mood, the little patience he has, and his true desire to have you walk away from there. 

"Grand Admiral Thrawn trusts me.” 

That’s litteraly the only reason he gave you. You could tell he had another reason, but what Thrawn wants to keep hidden, will remain hidden. 

The Patriarch raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. 

"I already conducted several diplomatic missions, I am…was his go-to officer for them and speak several wild space languages, like the one we are using now. I was the most suited for the job." 

He sneers, your answer far from satisfying him. 

“I am afraid that isn’t sufficient to be worth my time." 

“I know your secret.” 

Again, he raises an eyebrow. 

“And what secret do you think you know exactly?” He inquires with a sadistic smile stretching his lips. 

"How you travel through space. Without any Navigation computers. This secret.” 

His smile vanishes instantly, an incredulous expression flashing on his face before melting in a controlled, but very much real, anger. 

“You are lying.” He modulated his voice carefully, the tone is almost sweet with a note of poison. 

You very sternly shake your head. 

“Grand Admiral Thrawn took care to teach me. He wanted to make sure you would not send me back, not with my knowledge.” You plainly state. 

His expression closes back in a detached, cold, and aloof expression. You cannot read him anymore. 

“You are bluffing. He is an indiscreet and a fool, but he would not betray the secrets of our navy like that.” 

You sigh, reaching the end of your patience. 

“You use little girls with very rare capacities.” You let him know without a shadow of a doubt. 

He closes his eyes slowly, taking in the information that yes, Thrawn did actually spilled the secret to you. 

“You realize I could very simply have you executed and get done with all of this?” 

“I am under the protection of Admiral Ar’alani and Supreme Admiral Ba’kif.”  

You hear a faint growl emanating from him. Whatever happened between them, the Patriarch and the Supreme Admiral aren’t on good terms. 

You try to smile politely. 

“Come on Patriarch, are the mighty Chiss so terrified of one woman? I am but a messenger from one of your compatriots, only wishing to do good for our two nations. Take it as the opportunity to build privileged ties and bounds with a future powerful neighbor. Your family would be on the forefront of the scene and the negotiations.” 

“Do not teach me how to do my job.” 

“Far from me that idea.” You temper, “I am merely pointing out the benefices you could get by listening to the Grand Admiral.” 

“You spoke so highly of your dear Grand Admiral. Learn that he left us with a terrible reputation and was sentenced to be exiled for treason. We do not give credit to his words or any of his peace offerings.” Once again, he takes his scented handkerchief to his nose and deeply inhales it. 

“I am aware. He also contests those accusations but counts on your common sense to see the bigger picture.” 

“I think we are finished here.” He stands haughtily, “I will ask Admiral Ar’alani to conduct you back to your Empire and your dear Grand Admiral.” 

“I am going nowhere, Patriarch. He bestowed me this mission and his trust and I intend to honor both.” You stop him firmly. 

He contemplates you with lassitude. 

“Why going so far for him?” 

“I trust him.” 

“That cannot be the only reason.” 

“To you, it may not be sufficient. To me it is. I learned to know him and I saw the grandeur of Great men in him.” 

“How touching. Someone will escort you to the do-” 

“I invoke the Protocol 39 of Chiss laws for diplomats.” You cut him. 

This time you thought his head would really explode. 

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

Thurfian lets the fresh water roll on his skin. 

He is absolutely fuming. 

Where did you learn about that stupid protocol 39?! That damn law should get repealed urgently! A law offering asylum to alien diplomats who know about that particular protocol has no place in their books. It is a useless remnant of a past era of the Chiss Ascendancy when they were weaker. 

But you knew about this protocol and invoked it out loud, and now he has to offer you protection... 

He sighs. 

Of course... 

Ba’kif told you. It is the only possibility. 

Whatever Thrawn planned, Ar’alani and Ba’kif are in leagues with him, leaving him all the mess to deal with. 

What in tarnation Thrawn had in mind? Revealing one of the most dire secrets of the Ascendancy to a human? That Vento one wasn’t enough, he had to send another lost puppy to the Chiss. But this time he sent it to Thurfian. 

He almost wants to laugh thinking back at that ‘peace treaty’ as you called it. Gibberish, unenforceable, naive. Thrawn learned absolutely nothing about politics during this decade. His true goal is so apparent and frankly Thurfian feels like he spat in his face. 

Who does he think he is? And who does he think you are to even think this could work? 

Him? Mitth’urf’ianico? Mating with an alien? Thrawn lost the last remnants of his foolish mind. 

How would that even work? You humans have no mates, what did he hope would happen? 

He gulps, his throat dry. 

His own body hoped for something... 

To his horror. 

His dignity revulses at that thought, but his body awakened quite... brutally at the proximity of a compatible individual. 

A young 

Unmatched and single 

Potential compatible individual. 

He hates to admit it, but you are the prime example of a perfect Mate. A shame you are an alien, that spoils everything.  

But his body, again, disagrees with his morals. 

It only sees a potential, fruitful, and willing potential mate, ripe and ready for the harvest. His own body betrays him, desperate to get to know you better and pushing things to their climax. 

It his demanding you, craving you, your scent, your voice, your touch... 

It has been almost 6 months. 

6 months of pure torture for him. Of his body feeling the presence of an available mate and entering fight mode to deter any potential rivals. 6 long, long months he tried to put the most distance between you two, keeping you as far away as possible, hoping it would ease his urges and cravings, only for his organisms to demand you harder, resorting to pain to force him to get closer. 

6 months of him being hunted by lustful, disgusting dreams of you two together, waking him in a cold sweat, hard and shameful. 

And you had to keep harassing him! In the name of your Warriordamn devotion to Thrawn you kept testing him every day. He has to hand it to you, you are dedicated. 

He sees himself in you, back in his youth when he pursued lovers, the relentless chase, and the thrill of the hunt. But you have no idea of the true reason why Thrawn sent you here, to him. Would you have been a Chiss, he would have reveled in your insistence. 

He tried everything to make you leave of your own will, to the subtle passive-aggressive ways to downright discrimination and hate. Anything to keep you far away. But you took it all, unflinching, dignified, keeping your head high in front of everything the Chiss threw at you. 

He lowkey respects your attitude. He understands better what Thrawn saw in you and how you earned his respect and friendship. Not everyone would have held on before such treatments, he has met plenty of Chiss that would have chickened out long ago. 

But you didn’t. 

You remained, with your insufferable smugness and attitude, as infuriatingly spruce as ever. 

And now he really has no ideas left to escape you and the temptation that you are for him. 

He dreamed so much of dropping to his knees before you, kissing your hand reverently if you promised to be his and his alone, to devote yourself to him like you do with Thrawn, if you let him do what it pleased him to you... 

He woke up horrified each time. 

What other reaction was he supposed to have in front of such dreams? 

Give in? Not a chance. 

He remembers how he tried to push you out of his office the first day, your delicious smell was so overpowering he honestly thought he would pass out from his awakening urges. The last time he felt so... Alive was decades ago. He had to inhale his perfume handkerchief to limit the vertigos and baseless pulsions he felt pushing in his veins. He slammed the door once you exited his office, taking support on the wall to not fall to the ground with how he was trembling. He needed a long, icy cold shower after that. 

You are no Chiss! How could you have such an effect on him?! 

Did Thrawn knew? 

Did he deduce that it was possible? Oh he really thinks he did Thurfian a favor, that he will be indebted to him. 

But he just sent him a tormentor. 

When Thrawn comes back 

If 

He comes back... 

He will find Thurfian in the forefront of his detractors, ready to guide him to the pillory. He will find the exact opposite of what he tried to create. 

Did he really think he would be able to come back untouched just because he sent him an alien to fuck? Thurfian remembers Thrawn having difficulties with relationships and socialisation but this is a real new low... 

And to think he expects him to lower himself to you?! Him, the Patriarch of the Grand Mitth? Does he think he is desperate to find a mate? That he will accept anyone thrown his way? Even an alien? 

He knew Thrawn had weird views but this one is an insult plain and simple.  

He exits the shower to go down and eat breakfast with his family. Another long day ahead of him. Another load of pain waiting for him. He needs to get rid of you... 

He needs to find a way. Any way. 

He passes the large arches and his senses are immediately assaulted by your... obsessive scent. He swiftly takes support on the wall to not fall before the sheer power of your presence. 

He REALLY needs to get rid of you, murder is still an option. It can still happen. 

You are speaking with a member of the Mitth about something he does not care about. His first instance is to leave and climb back up in his suite, but that would be an admission of weakness on his part. That would be admitting you do have an effect on him, and he doesn’t intend on revealing that. 

He already has enough problems like that. If Thrawn and his socially impaired character were able to deduce that you are compatible with him, then that means everyone in the Mitth Manor picked it up by now. He needs not to be a genius to know they all speak behind his back. And that’s also why he forbade you from leaving the Manor despite him trying to avoid you. He will not let the rest of the Ascendancy know one of his possible mates is a human. 

Leaving the room right now would give them prove them right. 

And that is not happening. 

He takes his seat and takes out his questis to read today’s meeting and missions, ignoring you blatantly. He almost manages to focus and forget about everyone’s presence when he hears you laugh.  

Cristallyne and melodious. 

Delectable to hear. 

So pleasing to his ears... 

He deeply inhales to take back the upper hand but cannot help a guilty side glance in your direction.  

You are radiant, smiling with a gleaming shine. You smile at another male, giving him your attention. 

And that... 

Infuriates him! 

He mentally shakes his head, he needs to stop being so foolish but he cannot help the rising ire in his veins.  

You are speaking an accentuated Cheuhn now. You made very great progress, proof of your brilliant intellect and willingness to serve him. And that accent is just soooo... Exotic and musical, just so pleasant to listen to. 

He wants to listen to it for hours, he wan- 

He chastises himself. He wants none of that. He is not jealous of that man. He does not dream about you every night. 

This is not him. 

This is his baseless urges and instincts speaking. Not his personhood. 

He is way better than that. Way above that.  

Way above you... 

He would rather remain ‘the Mateless’ than associate with you. And prove Thrawn’s point. 

This trial is far from over... 

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

You silently walk in the corridors of the Manor. You don’t want to get spotted, Patriarch Thurfian would be heavily displeased if one of his guests spotted you. You just want to grab a snack anyway, you will not take long. 

You listen to the music emanating behind the closed doors of the ballroom of the Mitth Manor, a very large party is taking place. You received explicit interdiction to appear, not that you wanted it anyway. You can hear the lively discussions and waves of laughter, this is a lively party. You reach the kitchens and start picking up in the dishes destined for the banquets. 

A bit of this, a bit of that... You grab a fruit and head towards your room. 

As you walk past one of the doors opens, letting you have a glance at the party. You have a sneaky look, only to cross gaze with Thurfian inside, looking straight back at you, frowning, ordering you to get the fuck out of here pronto. You scurry away, not wanting to get him on his nerves. 

You’re not especially in the correct attire to be seen by all those guests. You are in your nightdress, ready to go to bed after your little snack, and you will really look out of place among those high-standard guests for sure. 

You sigh, after a whole year here, Thrawn didn’t show up as promised. You knew it could take longer than what he told you, but you are almost a prisoner here, forbidden from leaving the manor altogether, your weapons and uniforms confiscated. They limited your contacts with Ar’alani and Ba’kif to a minimum. You had to fight tooth and nail to just have the right to own a questis. 

Thurfian cannot bear to see you. He forbade you from approaching him entirely, but in every room you enter he seems to follow, only to look at you with disdain and horror and leave without a single word. You don’t know what his problem is but if he could have banished you to the other side of the Ascendancy, he would have done it. 

Thank the Maker Admiral Ar’alani explained Thrawn’s plan to Supreme Admiral Ba’kif and he gave you that nice little trick with the protocols. Or it would have been a nice little trick if you could have accomplished your mission given by Thrawn, but in those conditions it is impossible. 

‘Sorry my friend, I failed you for the first time’ you think bitterly.  

“I told you they hide an alien!” A male voice raises behind your back. 

You stop and spin on your feet to meet the disturbance of your peace. You met a group of four tall Chiss, looking at you up and down. Something in their demeanor displeases you immensely. 

“And quite a looker! Look at that skin color, it looks so soft!.”  

A fifth man appears behind your back, blocking the only other exit of the area.  

“Where are you going like that, little one? You will need an escort, a lot of bad people roam around that kind of party.” One of them speaks casually as they all circle you. 

“I thank you for your concern, good sirs. No need to bother with me, I am going away immediately.” You inform calmly, discreetly looking for an opening. 

The situation is not yet dramatic, but with five men against you, you will be in severe difficulty. 

“Mmmmh listen to that accent, it is absolutely lovely. Can you sing well too?” The one behind walked so close that he could grab a strand of your hair to wrap it around his finger. 

You immediately slap his hand away. 

“Careful man. She is feisty.” One snigger. 

“I love them feisty.” He responds licking his lips, “Tell me girly, are you the pet of the house?” 

“I am no one’s pet.” You growl. 

The next one approaching will receive your fist in his teeth. 

“A hottie like you, hidden away from the rest of the world like a secret... Someone wishes to keep you all for themself.” 

You fight the desire to sigh loudly to their face. 

“You are imagining things. Slow down the wine and let me pass, I need to sleep.” 

“You can sleep with us if you want. We have the whole night ahead of us.” One of them grabs your hand and attempts to pull you away towards a darker room. 

You throw your fist in his face, feeling something broke under your knuckles and hearing a growl of pain. The man is projected against the wall violently, under his comrades round eyes. 

“You BITCH! Seize her!” He growls, his hand pressed on his bleeding nose. 

They suddenly jump on you, grabbing your arms and clothes to tear them apart. You bite, claw, punch, and kick them back, giving them a hell of a hard time. But it is clear very soon that you will not win against five pissed-off opponents, not without a blade. And slowly fear settles in. 

No one will hear you. 

No one will save you. 

No one wi- 

A gunshot blasts in the air, stopping the commotion entirely.  

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

He just had a bad feeling. 

When he first smelled tea leaves, liquor, and honey he just felt ire in his veins, what the fuck were you doing around here? When he caught a glimpse of you between the two cracked open doors in your nightdress he felt his stomach tie itself in knots and his heart pumping faster. 

He shot you with his gaze to make you get out! Away from him you devious temptress! 

But when he saw this group of men leaving the ballroom right after you, he felt the ground opening under him. 

He knows very well this kind of gaze they had. How many times him and his friends had to fight off creeps like them to protect their girlfriends back in the day? A lot. Too much. 

Way too much. 

He could not fight off the cold sweat rolling in the back of his neck when they walked past him with that deranged smile.  

His hand unconsciously slid inside his inner tunic, feeling the cross of his personal Charric solidly attached in its straps. His head told him to stay in the ballroom, that aliens’ problems weren’t his. 

But his heart told him that he couldn’t let such a horrifying act happen to any woman he knew, not under his own roof, not even to a pain in the neck sent by Thrawn, alien or not. His own morals couldn’t tolerate it! 

And his instinct screamed at him to protect you specifically, his organism growing territorial and protective over you. You seem very well trained, and a part of him knows you are deadly with a weapon. 

But he confiscated each and everyone of your weapons and sealed them away. 

He even confiscated what you called a comlink. You will have no means to call for help. No one will hear your screams. 

He put you in this situation! 

And as that thought strikes his brain he realizes that he is furtively following the group of young men, his charric in hand. He doesn't see or hear them. He only has to follow your delicious scent.. 

He reaches a door and hears a moan of pain. A woman’s voice. 

Your voice. 

He sees red, all rational thoughts leaving his head. He kicks the door open and shoot a random mirror, dangerous glass shards exploding across the room. 

They all stop. 

You’re on the ground, nightdress torn apart, face bloody, limbs pinned to the ground with one of the creeps lying on top of you. 

Your abusers turn toward him, their ears still ringing from the loud sound.  

“Get off her.” He orders coldly. 

“Patriarch Thurfian, what are yo-” Thurfian doesn’t let him finish and fires at the foot of the one speaking up, making him scream a pitiful wail of pain. 

“Get.Off.Her. Or I shoot you down like dogs.” Thufian very calmly, very slowly, but very menacingly repeats. 

He is dead serious he realizes. He has no idea who they are, they very well might be sons of important syndics or magnates, but he knows that if they don’t obey he will shoot them dead without any second thoughts about any of the consequences. 

His gaze falls on you. You are in terrible shape and visibly terrified. His heart bleeds at such a sight... 

He treated you terribly for an entire year to push you to the door and you took it with grace and determination, unsinkable. He never thought he would see such an expression on your face ever. 

This fear in your human eyes is absolutely odious. He wants to get rid of it immediately. 

Your attackers let you go reluctantly while the fifth is crying on the floor, holding his wounded foot. The one laying his disgusting body on top of you groans as he gets up, displeased that his fun is now ruined. 

Do those types of men know no decency? No sympathy? No respect? 

“Protecting your candy, heh?” The one on top of you chuckles, looking at him.  

“What?” Thurfian snarls, heading the canon of his charric towards the chest of the impertinent. 

“I smelled it on her.” He licks his teeth. Absolutely revolting, “What would the other Patriarchs say if they knew about her, I wonder?” 

And suddenly, Thurfian’s anger subsides. His boiling blood turns into icy cold water in his veins and his mind gets clearer. His trembling hand shaking with fury steadies perfectly and he simply presses the trigger. The revolting man gets thrown back, hit in the chest. His friends jump and shout in surprise, incredulous that he dared fire his fellow Chiss over an alien. 

Thurfian takes his comm out to ring his bodyguards as they look at their unconscious friend lying on the ground in a pathetic position.  

In an instant, Chiss in uniforms enter the little salon, handcuff your attackers, and call an ambulance for the trash that got shot. Thurfian walks to the table. During the commotion you crawled in a corner of the room to put as much distance as possible between you and your assaulters. 

You are trembling, knees pressed against your chest, your human skin soiled by your blood, almost naked in the cold room. He gets on one knee and detaches his Patriarch coat to pass it around your shoulder. 

You shudder as his hand inadvertently brushes your shoulder. Look at you, terrified and lost. 

And that is his fault. Only his fault. 

Without a single word, he seizes your body and lifts you up bridal style. You yelp in surprise, looking at him with questions in your... gorgeous eyes. He carries you out of that room, without a single word for Thivick that just arrived.  

Your scent reaches Thurfian nose again, and for the first time since you arrived in his manor, he indulges. He deeply inhales those delicate and harmonious notes. 

His heart jumps in his chest as he feels you pressing yourself against him, huddling your wounded body against his, laying your head on his shoulder. 

He should feel indignant. Revolted. Absolutely revulsed! 

But the proximity feels comforting, it feels right. Like it was meant to be all along. 

Did the Warrior himself placed you on his way? Did he remained mateless all of this time because he was waiting for you? 

He doesn’t know. And frankly, he doesn’t care. Having you in his arms feels like the only good thing that happened to him in a long, long time. 

He has a lot of explaining to do. But first, dressing your wounds. 

He enters the infirmary and lays you in one of the beds. The medic stands up to start the treatment but Thurfian simply pulls the curtain, isolating both of you from the rest of the world. He washes his hands and washes your face delicately with a wet cloth. 

You wince in pain, you received several blows that tore the skin apart in several places, and bruises of a variety of colors are already flourishing on your human skin. 

“I am terribly sorry, (Y/n).” He simply says.  

What else can he say after such an aggression? What words could comfort a victim? 

“They will be brought on trial. They would not go unpunished.” He assures you. 

You sniff with disdain, not believing his promise for a second. 

“You all say that each time that it happens, but nothing gets done.” 

“You have my word. With the testimony of a Patriarch, they will not be able to escape justice.” He tries. 

You huff again, pushing his hand away. 

“Why would you even do that? You made it very clear I was not welcomed anywhere in the Chiss Ascendancy, especially in your presence. Why shoot one of you for a ‘mere human’?” 

He can feel the pain in your voice, how it twitches your features, how you gulp with difficulties. 

‘Because I am physically incapable of seeing you suffer.’ are the first words popping into his mind and he almost says them out loud before biting his tongue. 

But this is the truth. The fear he felt when he saw you in danger, the urge to tear those men’s eyes out of their sockets for just breathing weirdly in your direction, the absolute desperation when he saw your eyes widen in horror and fear. 

He had to fight his attraction and desires towards you the entire year for him to shoot a man down at your first trouble. He hid behind the pretension that it was only his instinct getting desperate to not find a proper mate that they were desperate to settle with anyone, even a lowly alien. 

But seeing you in this state makes him feel so guilty. He could have made your stay pleasant, welcomed you properly, and shown you the wonders of Chiss culture. But he locked you inside the Manor and limited your contacts with the outside world out of fear. 

That they would know that you were made for him. 

He could have made it easy for everyone and even facilitated future diplomatic relationships with humans like you proposed when you arrived.  

But no. He had to act like a child and now look at the results... 

“Because it is my job to protect guests under the Mitth roof.” He answers, muzzling the truth. “I will make sure it will not happen again.” 

“I do not believe you.” 

“I shot a man for you tonight.” 

You turn your head away from his red gaze. He feels the urge to dive in the crook of your neck and kiss it, his body wants to hug you close and make sure you are safe. 

But maybe... 

This isn’t just his body speaking. 

Maybe it is simply him too... 

He wants to kiss your lips and swallow your pain and fear for you to only know peace and serenity in his arms. 

He won’t, obviously. You are in shock, now is not the time for romantic advances. 

“You could have just sent me back to Thrawn... You did not want me here anyway, why not allow me to go back to him?” You ask, fighting back sobs. 

Now that things are settling down your body needs to evacuate the tension and stress of the aggression.  

So you start crying. 

Stabbing his heart deep. 

‘Because I couldn’t let you go...’ He thinks with a sigh, realizing it as the thought crosses his mind. 

He disinfects and dresses your wounds in silence, letting you cry to your heart’s content before sitting down and taking your hand in his, squeezing it gently. 

“Things will change from now on. I will give you back your weapons and uniforms, I will let you explore Csilla as you wish, and I will arrange a rendezvous with Ba’kif and Ar’alani. If you wish to go back to Thrawn, I will set you free...” 

His hearts bleed at those words because he knows he wants the exact opposite as he is proposing it to you. 

“But if you wish to remain and finish your mission, I would appreciate sharing a cup of tea with you, one day at your convenience. I want to know you better...” 

And a little more he hopes. 

Maybe one day you’ll forgive him. 

Maybe one day you will hold his hands and call him yours.  

He will wait, as long as it takes... 

@bluechiss @thrawnalani @justanothersadperson93 @al-astakbar@thrawnspetgoose @readinglistfics @elise2174 @debonaire-princess @twilekchiss @pencil-urchin @ineedazeezee @mssbridgerton @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @Cortisolcosplay @obbicrystaleo @germie2037

[eggsaladsandwhic]

Vash Headcannons (SFW and NSFW)

Follow my previous posts about the Poly Knives x OC x Vash CollegeAU fic I'm doing so here's some ideas I gotta dump.

SFW/General

Ecology Major vibes, is also getting an Ethics minor

Hates chemistry with a burning passion

Makes a lot of friends, but only hangs out with a few so he doesn't overwhelm himself

Nurodivergent Vash!

(He/They)! Or (They/them) either works

Doing a stem degree while having ADHD and anxiety sucks so much but Vash thrives in it somehow

College has really been flaring up his plant traits lately, has to call Rem or talk to Nai on the weekly for help (Though Nai just keeps telling him to stop repressing it)

Has to wear long sleeves or hoodie a lot to cover up the feathering leaves that pop out.

Vash doesn't realize it but it's anxiety that's causing it, but Nai started lending him some compression shirts and so it's gotten better

BUFF DADBOD VASH (this idea possess me)

He's gotten better with dealing with stress and no longer resorts to starving himself

GOES TO THERAPY(one of these twins gotta do it)

Between Nai's cooking, drinking on the weekends, and the amount of donuts this dude can eat he's living his best life

Works out when he gets the time and bowls competitively

Wants a significant other (Mates for life) but it's so hard, especially when starts thinking about the fact he's not human

Has a fear of having someone he really loves and then them finding out he's a plant and reacting negatively. Vash thinks Nai and him would likely have to move back to the facility with Rem. He doesn't want to uproot the lifestyle him and his brother have

Gets a little depressed about it, but is really good with having a support group on standby

Gets hit on at bars a lot but it always flys over his head or they're too pushy about it.

Wolfwood sets him up with dates once in a blue moon but it goes horrible or the girls just don't like him for more than his looks

Physical touch is this man's love language and he just wants someone he can lean on

Add someone who likes doing domestic activities?? Y'all are going to the courthouse next week

Wants to just curl up next to someone even platonically at this point

Has an agreement with Nai sometimes that they sleep in the same bed like when they were kids (Nai always grumbles about it but sleeps better that night anyway)

Nsfw Below 👇

OH SHIT OH FUCK

(NSFW)

So I did some research today and did y'all know that wild purple geraniums have a tendency to be Hermaphrodites

YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS

Vash is a dual package (living the dream ong)

Plantussy and Plantdick combo meal

So I imagine that his dick would sit above his vulva and vagina? Testes would likely be internal (genuinely trying to form an anatomy basis I'm actually looking at a diagram rn)

As for his female organs I'd say he consented to a hysterectomy because it was causing growth issues (post op sucked but he figured it out)

Took testosterone for awhile until everything was functional

Became a lot more sexually comfortable with himself after this

6.5in prehensile tentacle dick, bumpy rounded ridges on the sides and little more on the girthy end

Has more of those downy soft petals that unfold during sex, and dick likely has a sheath because it's more fleshy (kinda like the inside of your mouth)

Hyperspremia and leaves a mess everytime he jerks off, squirts a lot too (probably got a dedicated bath towel at this point)

He has fucked himself with his own dick and usually prefers to

Owns quite a few sex toys and likes to experiment around a little bit

Goes from a Fleshlight, a regular dildo, has a couple fantasy ones, and anal and prostate toys

High sex drive, but can cum pretty quick (short recovery period, usually goes 3 rounds but can do more)

Rut is 10x worse too you'd be lucky to make it to the fridge

Makes sperm plugs during rut

SWITCH VASH(still a virgin though)

Desperate sex kinda guy, gets pussy drunk or cock dumb so easily, folds like a chair no matter what

Make him unfurl his wings out it means he trusts you so much

Please go down on him and absolutely devour him

Very sweet though and would definitely check in a lot (check in with him too it makes him feel fuzzy)

Has a sex awareness to not hurting you accidentally, during rut he's very nervous about it

Aftercare King (loves to shower or take a bath after)

More of a hickey giver than a biter

Usual kinks: Breeding, Pegging, Overstimulation, Cum play, cockwarming, Oral, Praise, Hair-pulling

Unusual: Blindfolding, Shibari(both ways around), Begging, wants to be degraded a little bit

Jesus my brain went wild there, I was doing research for some of this shit. Was supposed to be doing Geochemistry homework but this happened ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯. Anyways gn y'all I got a 9am.

[animeyanderelover]

May I request Kunikida, Ango (BSD), Tobirama (Naruto), Uryū, Ryuken (Bleach), and Maki (JJK) with a surgeon darling who has to work extremely long hours and has to travel a lot. So it puts a strain on the relationship. Thank you!

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, controlling behavior

@shumidehiro @naeho @swagenemyartisan @leveyani @izanami78

Surgeon darling

Tobirama Senju

🌊​As someone who also is rather workaholic, perhaps he's being a bit of a hypocrite when he scolds you for your long hours working. Really, he is no better than you and he fully knows that yet you're obviously someone he looks out more for as you're his lover. Tobirama is most likely a bit torn apart about your position though. On the one hand he is proud of the fact that his s/o is such a diligent and hard worker, he's very proud to introduce them as his s/o to everyone else. The long hours of work aren't that big of a problem considering that he also works rather long as a Hokage so he initially forgives your even longer schedules as you do something to contribute to the village his brother has worked so hard on. The longer this continues though, the more he grows irritated about it. He is not a clingy lover but he would like to use the time both of you have together which is incredibly short due to you being even more obsessed with your work than he is. ​He isn't really worried about using his position as a Hokage to cut your work a bit shorter.

🌊​He's actually taking the time to discuss the matter with you, a privilege born out of his respect of your hard work. Obviously work is important but he won't deny that he would also like to spend the evening with you after a long day of hard work and, he's low-key a bit hurt about you prioritizing your work over him. Yes, even if your works involves saving the life of others. At least within the village he has control over you, on missions that is harder because. You're usually always needed since you're the best medic in the village. Not to say that he doesn't trust you but considering that you need to travel so often and he won't be there to remind you to consume a freaking meal every few hours, he's a tad bit concerned. So he often only lets you leave with shinobi he trusts and who he knows will remind you to take care of yourself. The constant travels are honestly a test of his endurance though because at times it really feels like he's single. If there ever should come a time where he forbids you to travel in favor of staying with him, don't protest. Is it really too much for him to ask of you to spend some time with him too? Yes, he loves your dedication for your village but never dare to prioritize it over him.

Kunikida Doppo

📓Kunikida had a lot of people dying on him during his time in the Detective Agency so he appreciates the work his darling does for all the hurt and injured people. You might not have an ability like Yosano's that assists you in healing others instantly although under somewhat terrifying conditions but you do your best and work your hardest. So he has a large amount of respect for you but that does nothing to help him and his ever-growing worries as he soon sees just how brutal your work schedule is. It's like you never stop working, whenever you come home you eat a quick meal, try to sleep with the few hours you have before heading right back to the hospital. There are days where Kunikida doesn't even see you even when you're still in Yokohama. Other times you're simply gone because you travel a lot since your service is requested. It's so jarring, he feels like he lives alone and worst is that he basically does. This isn't what he visualized when he started a relationship with you, this isn't what he's written down in his book regarding the plans for his life. He wanted domestic bliss and togetherness but what he has now is only loneliness and worries for your lack of self-care.

📓You two are having a discussion soon, Kunikida won't let those things just slide. Not only is he hating the fact that nothing is really going as he has planned it, but he's also concerned for your health. How can you expect to continue helping others if you neglect yourself after all? Honey, a break won't hurt anyone. There are other surgeons who can take over for a while. He's trying to convince you to take a few days off to rest, to look after yourself, to spend some goddamn time with him. He's initially starting very calmly as he tries to rationalize with you. Yet if you don't listen, he's going to sound genuinely upset with you at one point, might even raise his voice a tad bit as he's getting shortly a bit emotional. This means much to him after all as he spends so much time whilst you're away slowly agonizing over your health and whether or not you've collapsed somewhere as a result of the lack of sleep and proper food. Oh, he's definitely going to have a talk with your boss now to talk about this matter. Your schedule will lessen as a result of his discussion and you'll get a few free days in which Kunikida will make sure that you get everything you've deprived yourself off so far.

Sakaguchi Ango

🗃️​Ango is also someone who takes his job seriously and is a hard worker but he's quicker to show his concern for his darling and their health than Tobirama. Don't get him wrong. He values life a lot and he couldn't be prouder of you for dedicating hours of your days towards saving others. He knows how important your job is to you after all since he's normally the one who soothes you and comforts you when despite your best attempts, you lose a human during surgery. But he hates seeing you working yourself to the point where you barely get any sleep and run on coffee and sugar. What use would it be for you to work yourself to the point of exhaustion and eventually suffer from the lack of sleep and incredibly unhealthy diet? He tries to reason with you a lot because he's worried and tries to remind you that if you collapse one day because you don't take good care of you, you won't be able to treat your patients. He's at home already the one who has to literally remind you of taking a meal with all the needed nutritions and has to push you into bed to get some kind of sleep. Also, Ango is sad. Sad about the fact that both of you spend so little time with each other since he valus quality time together.

🗃️​The lack of time both of you spend together is only worsened by the fact that you have to travel so lot. He just knows that you won't look after you so at one point he uses his position to dispatch someone trustworthy from the government to accompany you on all your travels. Is it basically a babysitter for you? Yes, but Ango is worried about you. He's silently suffering for quite a long time because he tries to be respectful of your own wishes, is additionally a bit guilty about his obsession. Yet he still keeps his tabs on you even whilst you're in a different region of Japan. Better be safe than sorry after all. His lenience shouldn't be mistaken as weak-mindedness though as Ango will put his foot down rather firmly when the need ever comes. Especially when it escalates to the point where you work yourself sick will he put a cut in your work life. It can be easily arranged after all, he is well connected within the government. Then you'll find yourself on a temporary break from all the surgeries and the work and he will hear no protest from you. You've worked hard enough after all. You deserve some rest too. See it from the bright side, both of you can finally spend some time together.

Ishida Uryu

🏹​Uryu would also be the type of guy who would enjoy himself a darling who is stable in life, although not too independent to reject his love and help. Initially Uryu is also rather proud, almost a tad bit smug even, about your job and the fact that you save the life of other people. He's definitely bragging ever so slightly about you in front of his friends and he admires you quite greatly for your work and your effort. He isn't oblivious to the fact that your job requires you to work long hours but still, he doesn't expect it to be that bad. He's quickly proven otherwise though and then his initial pride and respect slowly wanes down as it is replaced by growing concern for your health and also growing annoyance as he realizes just how often you have to be gone, leaving him alone for long periods of time. Now, Uryu isn't overly clingy as he is more reserved and subtle as an individual but he values a stable relationship and the feeling of having someone waiting for you at the end of the day. Those values and dreams of his find their quick end within the relationship and he silently loathes returning back home every day without you there. It feels like both of you aren't even a pair in the first place.

🏹​He isn't afraid to talk with you about his thoughts and feelings about the matter of your job either but he constantly has to skip it because you're tired and exhausted whenever you come home. Seeing you nearly falling asleep whilst standing does nothing to decrease his worries and he slowly starts wishing that you would have another job that doesn't drain you as much. He knows that you worked hard for your current position but he's very protective. When he finally gets the chance to discuss it with you, he makes his unhappiness and his concern clear, the displeasure visible on his face. He's not asking you to quit but to take it slower and to lessen your tight schedule. He grows visible irritated if you refuse to listen, although he holds onto his composure. If talking with you fails though, he is quick to take matters into his own hands. He comes to pay a visit at whatever hospital you're working in and he is not afraid to have a serious talk with your boss. He isn't yelling or being aggressive but a master at composed intimidation and if he has to spend hours arguing with your boss to lessen your work, he very well will. He'll worry about your potential ire later.

Ishida Ryuken

◻️Honey, you can bet your kidney that he will make sure to have you working under his own guidance. So if you're not working in his hospital, he will do everything to change that. Ryuken has a very bad control streak going on and that increases especially once he sees your daily schedule. Obviously he's very focused on his work too and would probably also not be opposed to his s/o being able to work as long as he still is in control. But your work life is just too much and whilst he isn't someone who would baby his darling, seeing your lifestyle sets the alarm off in his head. The countless hours you work everyday and the constant trips you have to take elsewhere not only make it hard for him to have his eye on you all of the time but also threatens your health. He sees how exhausted and tired you are all the time and how unhealthy your diet is and it has him going maybe just a bit insane. He's approached you about this too, in shock about how you're a surgeon and doctor yet dismiss your own health so easily. Whilst it might sound selfish, especially coming from Ryuken who owns a hospital, he'd rather leave the faith of your patients uncertain to guarantee that you prioritize yourself more.

◻️He's seeking you out to ask if you'd like to transfer and work alongside with him. He's meticulously analyzed the work condition in your current job and has made it a point to suggest to you a better contract. If you reject him, you'll undeniably damage his pride a little bit but he can masterfully hide that. If he can't convince you, his next goal is your boss and then Ryuken will go all in. He's a very determined individual but differently than his son he's also a lot more colder and sharper with his choice of words, ever so slightly passive-aggressive if things take a bit too long for his taste. Yet there's also this unsettling air of confidence around him as he's sure that he'll eventually get what he wants. As soon as he has successfully added you to the staff in his own hospital, you're immediately put on break for a few weeks. In those few weeks he sees it through himself that you get a healthy 7-8 hours of sleep everyday, get some fresh air and eat some balanced meals. Keep your anger in check if you want to work as soon as possible again. Now that he is your boss, he also has control over you and can also just check on you whenever he wants as soon as he allows you to work again.

Zenin Maki

💚​Maki is for a while being openly smug about all the praise her darling gets for their hard work. She's fitting with all other characters in liking herself a darling who isn't fully dependent yet also makes sure that her s/o would never think of straying away from her side. She enjoys how all of her friends and former underclassmen admire you for your hard work and for saving lives, even though you don't fight curses. It's still save to say that Maki is a tad bit apprehensive about the hospital you work in. Curses are born from strong negative emotions and a hospital is always a place swarming with lots of negative emotions so she makes sure to visit you once or twice a week to make sure that no curses are crawling around and could potentially endanger you. All her smugness gradually fades away though when she experiences what it is like to be in a relationship with you. Frankly spoken, it feels like you two aren't even a thing. Not because you treat her coldly but because working as a surgeon is extremely time-consuming and your constant journeys elsewhere only make the feeling worse. It really gets on Maki's nerves after a while and she is not a woman to hold her thoughts back.

💚​No, she's very blunt with you the next time you're home and tells you very clearly how she feels. Whilst she knows that it isn't fully your fault, she's very assertive. She expects you to arrange things with your boss so that you have a bit more free time. She's also worried about your physical and mental condition with your long hours of work and if you try to brush it off as nothing, she'll definitely give you a sturdy scolding for being so immature. You're being ridiculous right now since you should know best what a human body requires in order to be healthy. If you refuse to listen to her or have troubles with your boss, no problem. She'll just appear randomly in the hospital you work in, very willing to have a word or two with your boss. If your body ever ends up being overwhelmed with the lack of care you give it, expect her to not even let you leave the house. She doesn't give a shit about your schedule in such a moment as she pushes you with her unmatched strength into the mattress and tells you firmly to just rest. Seriously, how hard can it be to take a day or two off? Don't expect her to allow you to go to work when your health is tattered in which case she will sturdily chide you for your reckless ignorance.

[sevensoulmates]

Greetings, I really want to know your opinion about this topic I saw. Something about metrics, so my friend was saying there's is a shift big enough in the fandom favorite characters because the buck/tommy ship is the most popular pairing now than buddie is and abc was waiting to see the fans reaction to decide the future story of buddie and the possiblity of buck tommy is bigger now. Are tv studios really measuring this data? I knew they did this with ratings but not this, how exactly fans get this kinda info and statistics? And shows like this one usually listen to the audience this way? I just thought it was interesting but don't know if is true.

If networks only went by what fans trend then buddie would've gone canon back in season 2b/3. That's when they had their first big surge in numbers like right now. Buddie was so popular it was beating out seasoned pairings like Destiel!

And yet...the networks did what they wanted and buddie stayed just platonic friends. Regardless of how popular and profitable buddie was/is.

And I don't believe bucktommy is more popular than buddie. There's a surge in popularity, yes, because they're brand new and Buck is confirmed queer for the first time, so of course there's gonna be a lot of new and excited eyes on it. It's the shiny new thing everyone's curious about. They're almost ENTIRELY a blank slate that people can project all of their desires for a canon pairing to have. It's far easier to trust a pairing that has two confirmed queer characters than it is to hope that the show will do the same for Eddie. There's a lot of factors that go into it, that make it seem like bucktommy would suddenly be the new fan favorite, but you also gotta keep in mind....it's only been a month. It's still fresh in people's heads. Buddie has survived seven years. It all goes down to infatuation vs. love. A crush vs. commitment. You'll see.

And yes, some cynical buddie people or people who just want Buck to get with a guy period and don't care about a love story will jump ship easily. But they are NOT the majority. They're just being super loud right now (which makes sense again it's huge news!) so it FEELS like there's a lot of them.

Myth: eVeRyOnE'S jUmPiNg sHiP to bUCktOmmY

Reality: Most bucktommy shippers are also buddie shippers and are just enjoying a new cute ship while it lasts and multi-shippers are allowed to exist. Just because one ships something doesn't always mean they want it to happen in canon. Two things can exist at the same time.

I've said it before, I'll say it again: I don't think they would've taken the leap to make Buck queer in the first place if they weren't AT LEAST strongly (and I mean strongly) leaning towards making buddie canon down the line. Majority of fans are going to EXPECT it now, and as Tim said, he tries not to let fans dictate what happens in the story, but he IS aware of what fans want. If he's making a decision like this, he is committing to being hounded literally non-stop about buddie until they actually become canon. I don't think he would do that unless that was the end goal, even if it's not for another x amount of seasons.

Yes, networks do keep track of fan metrics because it directly correlates to views which earns them money. BUT just because they know something is popular RIGHT NOW doesn't mean they're gonna just jump and immediately do it or scrap other plans. Especially when those other plans might be something that earns them MORE money down the line. I've talked extensively already about how buddie would be extremely profitable (more profitable than bucktommy sorry).

Fact of the matter is Tim and Co. know how loyal and dedicated most of the buddie fans are. They know they can weather any storm and still come out of it annoying as hell badgering them for the same thing.

Finally, despite Tim Minears many many flaws, I do have faith in him as a writer that he at least TRIES to do right by these characters. He's flawed, he has bosses that he has to adhere to. The same goes for the Kristen Riedel seasons as well. BUT, I think that Tim knows his characters well, and at least has SOME kind of vision of where they need to end up. I trust that Tim is going to be true to his word and is not going to let fandom trends dictate where he takes his story. I hope Tim knows what he wants, and with the approval of the networks, does it.

Edit: You can also think of the Bucktommy vs. Buddie popularity like Spotify monthly listeners. Just because a new popular artist with a trending song suddenly has more monthly listeners than someone established, like say Beyonce, doesn't necessarily mean this new artist is more popular than Beyonce or has more dedicated fans than Beyonce, it just means that person is the hot new thing and is trending so they have more listeners than Beyonce AT THE MOMENT, but not long term. Does that make sense?

[sailor-aviator]

Hello, I just wanted to say hi and say I love your work and I’ve been kinda shadow following you under the Jake x reader search page and finally got the courage to officially follow you today because of the boops and seeing all your posts about what really supports you as a writer on here will make me more involved in amplifying your work because it’s always brought me joy seeing your chapters pop up under latest posts.

Also I once anonymously submitted an ask to your plea for Glen to work with the muppets and it was nice to see 1. The muppets on the timeline outside of Christmas and 2. People suggesting Glen should do some lighthearted stuff where if any cheating rumors were to emerge, it would be breaking up Kermit and Piggy.

Thank you for coming (being forced to read) to my Ted talk.

Hi!!

First and foremost, thank you for following!! It means a lot, and I’m so glad you decided to come say hi!! I’m gonna use this ask to say a few things, so just know that I’m not lecturing or yelling at you, okay?

Writing is work. Like a LOT of work. For a lot of these fics, there’s a shit Tom of research that goes into some of the background of them because we want to make them as accurate as possible. I once spent four hours researching the history of railroads in the United States (specifically during the 1870s and 80s) for Don’t Hang’em Til Noon. Planning a fic takes time even without the added research. Fool’s Fare took a while to plan, and Fortune & Glory is taking even longer because of the amount of lore that’s going to have to go into it as an Indiana Jones knock off.

People have lives outside of here. We have families, jobs, pets, friends, etc. So the fact that we dedicate so much time to this hobby is a testament to how much we love doing it.

However,

It becomes discouraging when we post our hobby for others to see, step away for a little bit and come back to find no meaningful interactions with the works. I said this in a different post, but likes do nothing on Tumblr. They don’t boost it to other people or an algorithm or whatever. Likes are used as bookmarks on here and nothing more. If you like a fic, you NEED to reblog it.

The fact of the matter is that we don’t make works for you all for free. The price you pay to read the fics is genuine interactions. Could be a reblog with a comment, a reply to the post, a DM to the author, or an ask (anonymous or not). I cannot tell you how many authors on here that you all read (myself included) that have thought about leaving in recent months and just giving the fics to our friends because of the lack of interactions within the fandom. We are a small fandom, yes, but that means you should be supporting your artists even more actually. We WANT you guys to interact with us! You aren’t a burden!

Anyway, yes! Petition for Glen to do something with the Muppets. Maybe like a western romance or something? Let the cheating rumors fly with Miss Piggy!!

I’m a SLUT for the Muppets!

[separatist-apologist]

What A Time To Be Alive

I just need someone to hold me, even though you don't even know me

Summary: The prompt was: Modern AU where Lucien is a tiktoker who posts POVs and Elain always wants to duet them to be the love interest he’s talking to but she doesn’t bc how could he ever be interested in a girl like her… UNTIL SHE DOES

Note: Big thanks AND dedicated to @ablogofbipanic who thought she could give me unwritable prompts. I'll write anything.

Read on AO3

-

Elain Archeron recognized that deck. Recognized the parking lot below and, when the camera zoomed out for a moment, recognized the white coup sitting in a patch of hot California sun. That was her apartment complex broadcast to an audience of one point two million people. 

And her upstairs neighbor filming another tiktok. 

Jackinthefox. Everyone thought his name read Jack, but Elain knew his name was actually Lucien Vanserra given how often his mail was shoved into her slot. Mostly junk coupled with the occasional energy bill. Lucien, with his sun kissed, golden brown skin and auburn hair that fell past his shoulders. She’d caught him in the basement gym once, lifting weights in a shirt so loose she could see all the carved muscle just beneath. 

She’d started working out at night to avoid him. 

It seemed Elain couldn’t avoid him on tiktok, though. No matter how quickly she swiped through his videos on her feed, they always came back. Look at me, they seemed to demand. Look at how handsome I am.

Yeah, yeah. Lucien was absurdly good looking, a fact he must have been well aware of. To his credit, he didn’t react to the thirst comments people left for him like other tiktokkers. And he always kept his shirt on, which honestly was a crime. If the women following him learned what lurked beneath, they’d riot. 

Lucien did dance, occasionally, though always to 90’s boybands—Elain liked those videos best, not that she’d ever admit it. What Lucien did, primarily, were POV’s to popular television shows. Usually the Office, though he did a fair amount of New Girl, too. And women practically lined up to duet him, hoping to be the Jim to his Pam. 

While Lucien had exploded in popularity during quarantine, Elain had a more modest following of ten thousand people following her for her aesthetic baking videos. And while Elain had a good time baking bread in cute aprons in front of her window, what she secretly wanted was to duet Lucien back.

She didn’t have the guts. What was worse, she thought, was duetting him, being ignored, and having to give him his mail when it was inevitably put in her box again. He’d know she had a crush on him and probably laugh behind her back.

Or maybe not—but Elain didn’t dare risk it. Not when she had one of the last affordable and nice units left in California. Close to the beach, within walking distance of her favorite grocery store…and with the hot, upstairs neighbor. 

It was hot that day, which made going to the store a miserable venture. Elain was making lemon bars and had run out of nearly everything. If there was a hell, surely it was hauling massive canvas bags of flour, sugar, and lemons in the California heat. By the time she reached her building, Elain was drenched in sweat. In the distance, she could hear the screaming laughter of children in the pool, and the smell of chlorine blew in on a rubber and asphalt scented breeze. 

She just wanted to get inside the cold building, to park herself naked in front of a fan, and stay there until winter arrived.

Elain went to yank open the glass door and drag herself up the flight of stairs to her unit. She fumbled with the metal handle, hot beneath the sun and her sweaty fingers.

“I’ve got it,” called a familiar, masculine voice. Honeyed and deep, rich and warm like the day she was so desperate to flee, Lucien Vanserra must have had one of the nicest voices she’d ever heard. A moment later he’d wedged his towering frame in the door so she could slip past. Lucien’s russet colored eyes slid to the bags hanging from her shoulders.

“Want help?” he asked, reaching for one of the straps.

Elain tried to protest— “No, I’ve got it—”

But he’d already taken two bags in one hand like it was nothing to him. He reached for the other two and suddenly Elain was freed of her obligations. She knew he saw how she exhaled with relief, a smile quirking over his full lips. Lucien was in another loose tanktop and basketball shorts. 

Like herself, Lucien was slick with sweat, which made her feel a little better. They were both disgusting, which somehow put them on equal footing. 

“What are you baking today?” he asked with a sidelong glance. Elain’s eyebrows shot skyward. She followed him up the purple carpeted steps, a relic from some mythical time period in which purple carpet made sense. Though, it did add a certain charm to the otherwise beige, fingerprint stained walls. 

“What do you know about my baking?” Elain asked, hoping she sounded appropriately flirty and not breathless with wonder. 

“I know that I tried those cranberry bars you posted last week and they turned out like shit.”

“That sounds like user error,” she replied, trying so hard not to grin. He watched her videos? Elain could have died. 

“Oh, if definitely was,” he said cheerfully, keeping easy pace with her. “They tasted good, though. What are you making today?”

She swore those eyes of his looked hungry. “Lemon bars.”

Still, he grinned. “Can’t wait to fuck those up, too.”

She could have invited him in. As they reached the landing and her door a mere three steps away, Elain could have asked Lucien to help her bake. Lord knew he would have looked great on camera, even if no one ever saw her face on tiktok. They had to follow her on instagram for that. Still, Lucien’s hands were big and broad and her mostly female audience probably would have liked seeing them as much as Elain liked watching him hold her groceries. 

She didn’t invite him in. The words got tangled in her throat, jumbled so when she dug her keys out of her pocket, she heard herself say, “Well…thank you for the help.” “Anytime,” Lucien replied smoothly, handing her the bags without complaint. He didn’t look around her to try and get a glimpse of her apartment, nor did he offer to come in and help. Elain appreciated that so much, though it was truly a low bar in terms of not being pushy.

“Catch you around,” he said with a wink, turning back for the steps. Elain admired the shifting muscles of his back for a moment—just until he rounded the corner. His thundering steps seemed to clear her head, if only a little.

He was just being neighborly. Friendly.

He watched her videos. 

The first thing she did the second she got inside was whip out her phone. And sure enough, buried in her notifications, was Lucien Vanserra quietly liking months of baking videos. How many had he made? All those months of agonizing about dueting him while he was liking all her videos and making her recipes…Elain felt giddy.

She felt like pulling out her ring light, after showering and carefully applying her make up, and dueting his latest video.

New Girl.

Elain loved New Girl.

LUCIEN:

Flopped on his couch, phone on the coffee table, Lucien replayed the afternoon in his mind. He’d been looking for an excuse to talk to Elain for the better part of a year. Ever since her sourdough video popped up on his for you page. He’d been in a dark place then—a new transplant to California for grad school, lonely and now quarantined before he’d had the chance to make new friends. Lucien had never felt so isolated in his life. His whole life was on the east coast, and even if he’d wanted to drop out and go home, there were no flights to take him.

He sure as shit wasn’t making that drive, either. So Lucien did what everyone else did, and began mindlessly scrolling tiktok. He’d recognized the kitchen those delicate hands worked in, and though it made him feel a little creepy, he’d followed the link in her bio to her instagram page only to find the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen in his entire life living directly beneath him.

Lucien had tried to stage several run-ins with her. At the gym, in the parking lot, even at the pool though it was closed. Elain had never taken the bait. In fact, she barely looked at him at all. Lucien supposed, with a face as beautiful as hers, he simply didn’t register. That didn’t stop him from trying.

And when he couldn’t make conversation with her in person, Lucien turned back to the internet. He ordered a ring light off amazon and made his first video, hoping she’d see it like he’d seen hers. He’d heard her watching New Girl through the vents so he knew she liked it. 

After a year, though, Lucien was starting to think it was time to give up on Elain Archeron. Maybe she had a boyfriend. Maybe he wasn’t her type. Hell, maybe she didn’t even like men. They were still in lockdown, still only supposed to go out for essentials, and maybe Elain didn’t want to risk getting sick on his account.

Lucien had sworn he was going to give up. His titkok had blown up by that point—surely she must have seen him at least once. Must have realized he was her neighbor. She could have liked one of his videos if she’d wanted, and she hadn’t.

All that changed with a little ding of his phone. Lucien reached for it, replaying walking her up to her apartment. She’d looked so good, with her golden brown curls stuck to her sweaty forehead, and how the heat had caused the yellow of her strappy sundress to conform to her tan skin. Lucien had forced his eyes forward and his mind anywhere but how she might look beneath him, just as sweat soaked and flushed. How those little, panting breaths might feel against his neck and fuck he had been so close to asking if she wanted help baking before he’d retreated, half hard just from the nearness of her.

He needed to think about something else. Lucien picked up his phone, illuminated in the last pinky rays of daylight pouring through the sliding glass of his balcony doors. Flipping open his phone, Lucien’s heart leapt into his throat.

Areyoubreadyforit dueted your video!

Lucien’s hands all but shook as he watched. She’d changed into a pretty blue top—or dress, he couldn’t tell—and lipsynced through the words, talking to him. Gorgeous, like always, bright eyed and confessing her pretend feelings for him through the medium of a POV video. 

Be cool, he told himself even as he slipped on his shoes. Don’t do anything stupid.

Famous last words as Lucien went outside into the dry heat for the escape ladder that would take him straight down to the parking lot.

Or her deck, a floor below. 

This is charming, he told himself, well aware he was skirting the line of crazed upstairs stalker. Why not go down the hall and knock on her front door? It was too late—the minute his feet hit the wood, Elain Archeron looked up from the kitchen. Her eyes went wide when she saw him, cheeks covered in a light dusting of flour. 

Lucien raised his hand and mouthed, hey.

Elain came to the door, wiping her hands on a pretty pink and white dotted apron. “Hey,” she said, clearly surprised. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” he lied. What Lucien really wanted to say was I like you, but that felt too much given he was standing on her deck like a maniac all because she’d dueted one video. “I ah—I came to see if you wanted any help. With your bars, I mean.”

“Oh,” she murmured, her eyes sweeping over his body. He’d showered after the gym, and still he felt self conscious as he pressed a hand to his stomach through the white fabric of his shirt. “I was actually about to make dinner.”

Lucien’s stomach fell for only a moment as Elain added, “Do you like chicken?”

“I love chicken,” he replied, unwilling to admit he would have eaten trash if she offered it. “Anything to watch the famous Elain Archeron cook.”

Pink stained her cheeks. “Hardly. I think it’s you who is famous, right?”

Lucien followed her into her apartment. The set up was the same—a living room that opened into a kitchen, and a hall that he knew would lead to both a bedroom and a bathroom. Every night, she laid just beneath him. 

Maybe tonight, too, if he was lucky. That seemed distinctly like pushing things and yet Lucien still hoped as he closed the door behind him. 

“Hardly,” he said, flashing her a smile. She didn’t realize all those followers were merely a monument to his crush on her. Elain glanced over her shoulder, still in the blue dress from the video. 

“I guess you saw my duet?” 

Her blush was so pretty. Lucien could do nothing but follow after her and try and keep his jaw off the floor. Did she know? Did Elain have any clue the effect she had on him merely by existing? That he wanted to wipe the flour off her face with his tongue? 

“It was cute,” he said, bracing his elbows against the counter so he could watch. She wasn’t lying about the chicken—she was currently tying twine around an entire bird she’d seasoned rather nicely. “What took you so long?”

She scoffed. “It was the first interesting video you’d made all year.”

So she had seen them. Lucien’s heart was pounding in his chest. Oh god, oh god, oh god— “Tell me what interests you so I can better curate your experience.”

“I liked the Backstreet Boys videos,” she said, the pretty menace.

“Yeah? And if I make them again, are you going to dance with me?”

Her whole face was flaming red. Elain ducked, sliding her pan into the oven as she said, “I don’t know the steps.”

“I can teach you.” Fuck, Lucien could teach her anything she wanted to know—the steps to cheesy 90’s boy band music, how he liked to be kissed— 

“I’ll bet you could,” she replied, those eyes cutting right through him. “Did you come down here to hit on me?”

“That depends,” Lucien grinned back, letting his gaze slide to her mouth. “Do you find it charming or creepy?”

Elain angled her chin as she contemplated. “Charming,” she declared with a pretty smile. Fuck Lucien had to fist his hands at his sides to keep himself casual and in place. 

Leaned against the laminate counter, Lucien didn’t dare let his eyes drift below her neck though he fucking wanted to really look at her. 

“Does it count as a date if you do all the cooking?”

Elain exhaled a puff of air. “Do you want this to be a date?”

God, Lucien wanted nothing else. He offered her what he prayed was a roguish smile. “Yeah, actually.”

She hesitated. “For…for content?”

“Because I’ve had a pathetic crush on you ever since I moved in,” he replied easily. There was no way in hell he was going to let her think his interest was about titkok fame. One day Lucien would be a lawyer, his tiktoks a blurry memory—his hobby when the world had shut down and nothing more. He had no interest in being an influencer or an actor. 

His interest was standing directly in front of him wearing a blue sundress and smeared in flour. 

“Oh,” she murmured, her face pink again. “I guess this could be a date. I do have some wine I got from Costco.”

“My favorite,” he lied—again, Lucien would have drank sewer water if she was offering. “I can plan the next date, make it more romantic.”

“Next date?” she teased, pulling out two wine glasses. “You’re awfully confident.”

Lucien only shrugged, at a loss for words. “Hedging my bets.”

Elain offered him a glass of red and when Lucien took a drink, he could hear his older brothers sneering words in his head—grape drink—Eris called anything under one hundred dollars that.

The alcohol took some of the edge off his nerves. Elain was closer than she’d ever been willingly, standing in front of him with that glass pressed to her lips. Lucien wanted to be it, wanted to know what it felt like to have her touch him like that. 

“That’s awfully bold,” she said, her voice light and breathless. Fuck fuck fuck.

Lucien set his glass to her nice, round table before he dared a step closer. She was so much shorter than him, would have to lean up on her tiptoes to kiss him if she wanted. God how he hoped she wanted to. 

“Isn’t the saying fortune favors the bold?” he murmured, brushing a curl from her cheek. Her skin was so soft, so warm beneath his fingertips. “Maybe it’ll favor me, too.”

Elain looked up through dark, thick lashes. “That was corny.”

He cocked his head as she dared a step toward him and oh my god, this was happening. Lucien didn’t dare breathe when she angled her chin, her thick cascade of hair falling down her shoulders. Eyes bright with invitation. All he had to do was not fuck this up. Just one kiss, which was more than he’d had for an entire year, despite wanting her that long. 

“All that matters is that my corny line worked,” he replied, reaching for her cheek. Lucien threaded his fingers through her hair before lowering himself to her. She surged upward, meeting him in the middle for what he thought was the most perfect first kiss in the history of first kisses. She smelled like rosemary and tasted like sugared lemon. Her mouth was soft, her fingers curling against his biceps as she reached for something to steady herself.

It was over far too quickly. Lucien wanted to yank her against him. To haul her up on the table and declare she was the only meal he was interested in. Already, his body was far tighter than he would have liked—all the blood he needed to form sentences was currently rushing to his cock. 

Elain smiled as she lowered herself back to the ground. “So uh…dinner?”

Lucien’s eyes nearly rolled back into his skull at the breathless way she said those words.

“I’m yours to command,” he said stupidly. “Tell me where you want me.”

He didn’t miss how her eyes darted toward the hall. He’d go, if she told him to. Lucien would lay flat on the bed and let her do every depraved thing she was thinking of—he’d thank her for it, even. Lucien didn’t care what it was, as long as they were both naked and— “Bread?” she was saying, though she, too, sounded far away.

“Yeah,” he replied, praying she didn’t look down at his shorts. “Whatever you want.”

ELAIN:

Whatever you want. 

What she wanted was for Lucien Vanserra to take off his shirt and let her lick the line between his abs straight to his— “How is this?” he asked, pulling out a loaf pan of bread he’d been working on.

“It’s good,” she lied. It was sagging in the middle, but not a bad first try given they were both distracted. It had been one polite kiss. One kiss. 

One kiss where he’d cupped her whole face in the palm of his hands. Now she knew he smelled like sunshine and woodsy smoke and how his arms felt beneath her fingers. It was too much knowledge for her small kitchen and her overactive imagination. Lucien was being perfectly polite, unaware that Elain was trying to figure out how to get him into her bedroom. 

Did she just ask? Did she say, hey Lucien, do you want to have sex with me—

What happened if he said no? Elain didn’t think she could stand the rejection after that kiss. She wouldn't just have to move out of her building, but the whole state if she wanted to escape him. While she carved the chicken, Lucien refilled their wine glasses and set the table, glancing over at her surreptitiously. Likely wondering why she was acting so strange. 

Lucien had a talent for keeping the conversation going which Elain immensely appreciated. She didn’t have to think about what to say—not when he so effortlessly had a comeback for everything she said. He maintained eye contact and somehow managed to be funny and laid back and charming.

She should have sent him home. He was dangerous. Elain had the distinct feeling that a man like Lucien Vanserra could very easily ruin her life. Which was why, when dinner was over and a third glass of wine seemed ruinous, Elain meant to say, You should probably go home.

But what she actually said was, “Do you want to stay and watch a movie?”

Lucien’s eyes gleamed. “Of course.”

God, he knew. He knew what she was trying to do when he slid off his tennis shoes and padded to the couch, one strong arm slung over the back of the white sofa. “Something scary,” he told her when she began scrolling, so close her arm was brushing his chest.

“Subtle,” she joked, daring to look up at him. That was a mistake. Lucien’s expression seemed to burn, lips parted as though that were the only way for him to get in enough oxygen. She felt the same—worse, maybe, when his fingers gripped her chin gently, tilting her face toward him.

“I wasn’t trying to be subtle,” he said, his mouth brushing hers. “In fact, I’d like to be a lot less subtle. Skip the movie and ask me to stay with you tonight.”

“What about the second date?” she asked, afraid if she slept with him, he’d go back to ignoring her.

“We’ll start when we wake up. I was thinking a picnic,” he panted, his thick, long hair forming a curtain around them. 

“You’re just saying that so I’ll invite you into the bedroom.”

Lucien smiled, his eyes fluttering shut. “You have no idea, Elain. Absolutely no idea how long I’ve been trying to get your attention.”

“How long?” she challenged, wondering why she was still dragging this out. All she wanted was to kiss him again. Longer, this time. Long enough all her good sense evaporated beneath the heat of his body. 

“When did I create that account, again?” he asked. She opened her mouth to call him a liar and Lucien pressed his advantage. This kiss was not like before. There was no hesitance, not tentative, polite pressing of the lips. Lucien knew he had her—or, perhaps he was afraid she’d come to her senses and he needed to take what he could before that happened.

All Elain knew was one moment she’d been about to speak and the next his mouth was slanted against her own. One of his arms wrapped around her, pulling her into his lap before Elain could protest.

As if she would have. Elain was too quick to straddle his waist, well aware she was in a dress and the only thing keeping her from being fully bare against him was a thin strip of cotton already wet from the kiss before. Not that Lucien seemed to be faring much better given the moment she was seated against him, she could feel his own erection poking up through his shorts. 

Good, she thought with delight. Arms wrapped around his neck, Elain kissed him like she, too, was never going to get another shot at him. His tongue swept into her mouth, pulling the most embarrassing, unexpected moan from her throat.

Beneath her, Lucien seemed to buck unintentionally. He held her tighter, pushing her against him until his straining cock was lined up with her perfectly. It was experimental, to roll her hips against his shorts. Just to see what would happen if she did. 

Lucien groaned. Loud and sweet, right into her mouth, fingers digging into the fabric of her dress in an attempt to get her to do it again. It had been so long since Elain had kissed anyone—even before quarantine and the pandemic, Elain hadn’t been with anyone since she’d broken up with her ex. 

It was good, the taste of him in her mouth and his hands on her body. Knowing he wanted her, had wanted her maybe as long as she’d wanted him. That they were in this little hell together, desperate and needy. Elain arched again, rubbing herself against the hard slap of his body until Lucien pulled his mouth off her.

“Elain, Elain have mercy. Please,” he panted, sweeping his thumbs over her cheeks as he gulped down air. “You’re going to make me come if you keep that up.”

She didn’t believe him, rolling against his erection again. Lucien threw his head back, moaning while his back arched up off the couch. He was so absurdly hot, so ridiculously sexy. She yanked at his shirt, lifting it over his chest and throwing it to the floor.

“Maybe I want you to come,” she replied, hands gliding down the muscular planes of his body. 

Lucien’s dark eyes fell on her and in one smooth, fluid motion, he had them both on their feet.

Well, he was on his feet. She was in his arms while he strode purposefully through her apartment to her bedroom.

“How do you know where I sleep?” she asked when he tossed her to the rosy duvet. 

He angled his head toward the ceiling. “Same layout. How many nights have you laid just below me, touching that pretty pussy of yours, Elain?”

“Almost as many as I’ve touched myself thinking about you,” she dared to reply. Lucien doubled over, hands gripping the edge of the bed frame to steady himself. She gestured toward her nightstand, determined that her night with Lucien would live up to how she’d imagined it. “Would you like to see?”

He groaned again. “Yes. Show me.”

Elain sat up, eyes never leaving Lucien’s face as she reached behind her for the zipper. She had to stand to shimmy out of her dress, noting how white his knuckles were. He was clearly holding to the wood for dear life, which made stripping all the more fun. The wine helped with her nerves, leaving her own hands steady as she removed her bra and then so, so slowly, pulled her underwear to her ankles.

“Fucking christ,” he whispered, breathing through his nose like a wild, near feral animal. 

“Don’t move,” she reminded him as she laid herself back out on the bed. She’d get herself mostly there, she told herself. Spreading apart her thighs, Elain let Lucien see her fully unclothed just like she’d imagined.

“What’s in the drawer?” he asked when she raked her nails lightly over her parted legs.

“Things that vibrate. Do I need one?” she asked him, thinking she likely did.

“Not tonight,” he whispered, his gaze fully on her pussy. “I have other ideas.”

Elain’s fingers slid through the wetness coating her skin and Lucien whimpered. “What ideas?” she asked, rubbing slow circles over her clit. In truth, she rarely touched herself like this, preferring the ease of vibrating toys. It was fun to tease him, though. To see his obvious want written all over his face. To see the straining bulge in his shorts. 

Lucien, as if reading her mind, yanked them off over his hips, kicking them onto the floor without looking. It was Elain’s turn to whimper at the sight of his large, thick cock now held in his equally large hand. 

He pumped himself once, unaware of the thrill of arousal that spiked through her. She understood how a little grinding could bring him so close to the edge. If he kept stroking himself, she was likely to come, too. The sight of his muscular body, how his cock seemed big despite his hands, how hungry his eyes were was all too much. 

“What ideas, Lucien?” she asked again, still drawing lazy circles around that swollen nub of flesh. Lucien came closer and closer still, until he was at the side of the bed. Lifting his body onto the mattress with one powerful thigh, straddling her stomach so his cock nestled between her bare breasts.

“Fuck, Elain,” he whispered, thrusting up between the valley of skin. She pressed them together, using her fingers still sticky from her own arousal to tease the slick head of his erection. 

Their eyes met. “Do you have a condom, Lucien?”

He groaned. That was a no.

“Upstairs,” he said, thrusting again and again, slowly, clearly doing so for the view. She could have scooted a few inches and found his cock in her mouth. It was so tempting, and yet the moment she began to readjust herself, Lucien was swinging his body off of hers and throwing his shorts back on.

“Don’t move,” he ordered, his voice ragged.

A second later, he was gone. No shirt, no shoes. Her door slammed shut as he raced back upstairs. Elain heard him thudding inelegantly overhead, heard his door slam, and then a second later he was back.

“Hard to fucking run like this,” he panted, ripping his shorts off again. Elain reached for him, wanting to kiss him as he tossed several foiled packets to the bed but Lucien fell to his knees loud enough the people below her likely heard, grabbed her by the knees, and dragged her right to the edge.

Without preamble, his mouth was on her and Elain understood why he’d said no to the vibrating toys. “Oh, god,” she moaned, the sound echoed by his own appreciative groan. Elain had to clap a hand over her mouth to keep herself silent even as she pressed her thighs around her face, ankles crossed behind his head. 

Lucien’s tongue was far better than her fingers, than any toy she could possibly own. Lucien licked with expert, unyielding precision and when one of his fingers slid into her body, Elain was wrecked. Grinding into him with shameless abandon. She’d never been so easy like this, so unconcerned about being sexy versus just chasing pleasure. 

Lucien pumped one, and then two, before finally working a third finger into her. Stretching her open to take him, she knew, though in truth Elain didn’t care so long as he kept rubbing that spot just inside her body and kept licking her clit. 

Elain couldn’t remember the last time a man had gotten her off. Had one ever? Graysen hadn’t, which had necessitated the toys. She could use them while he fucked her, which Gray had preferred. And Elain didn’t mind that—really, she didn’t—but sometimes a little effort would have been nice. 

Maybe it was unfair to compare her ex to Lucien, but Gray had never eaten her out like this. There was a desperation to Lucien, like he needed to do this perfectly—like he’d never see her again and this was his only chance.

If he always ate pussy like this, he could see her whenever he wanted. 

There was nothing elegant about the way she came. Clamped tight around his fingers, riding his face as she split apart, her body arching so hard off the bed she heard her spine crack. Elain scrambled back, gulping down air while Lucien licked himself clean of her before chasing her up the bed.

Their mouths collided, messy and rough in a clash of teeth and tongues. She could feel him between her legs, torturing himself by rubbing the head of his cock through her slick arousal. All she had to do was spread herself a little wider and he’d be inside her. She wanted him in her, wanted to know what it was like to share a body, to have him. 

Elain shoved him, ignoring that the taste of her pussy was now in her own mouth.

“My turn,” she whispered. 

LUCIEN: 

He was dreaming. That was the only thing that made sense to him because otherwise he was living in a reality in which Elain Archeron was naked. Naked and pushing him to the bed, where he was also naked and hanging on a razors edge. A condom was going to do absolutely nothing to save him. The second he was buried in her, he knew it was all over. Lucien had been too close on the couch just kissing her.

Usually, going down on his partner tempered some of his arousal. With Elain, it has only made things worse. Flat on his back while Elain and licked and sucked her way down his chest, Lucien knew he was ruined.

He felt her reach across the bed, searching for one of the condoms he’d hastily grabbed. It was optimistic to take a handful and yet he’d gotten this far, hadn’t he? Why not hope he’d get to fuck her the entirety of the night. That maybe he hadn’t brought enough, even, and would make another trip upstairs. 

Maybe this time he’d bring her with him, just so he could go down on her in his own bed, too. Lucien was certain his sheets could be improved by her pussy smeared across the fabric. For now, Lucien was happy to watch Elain settle between his legs and rip the corner of the gold foil packet.

Lucien gathered up her hair. “You’re so fucking pretty, baby,” he whispered, thinking he ought to say something appreciative. Thank you for fucking me, I might be in love with you now didn’t seem like the right thing. 

Elain looked up at him just as her fingers curled around the base of his cock. Did he think he was somehow owning this experience? That he was exuding confidence? Lucien practically whimpered at her touch, his hips arching off the bed.

She smiled. “Do you taste as good as you look?” she asked in that sweet voice of hers. God, she had been sent to kill him.

What a way to go.

“Find out,” he said in a voice that was decidedly not his. Whoever that man was, he sounded like he had a modicum of control, which Lucien absolutely no longer possessed. Maybe it would be smart to come, he rationalized. Maybe he should have taken a minute upstairs and finished himself and come back with the kind of stamina women boasted about.

Maybe— “Holy shit,” he choked, gripping her hair tight without meaning to. Elain sucked him into her mouth, unnoticed as he agonized over what to do next. The sight was obscene, her pink lips wrapped around the skin of his throbbing erection. She slid nearly half way before she gagged, widening her jaw to take in a breath of air. Lucien nearly came from the sight of her tongue peeking from her lips, of her hand gripping him so tight she must have felt his erratic, pounding heart. 

“Baby,” he tried, unsure what he was even trying to accomplish. Lucien could die happy at the sight of Elain’s bobbing head, of her soft, wet mouth working over him with the kind of enthusiasm he had only once dreamed of. “It’s too much.”

That was true, at least. His whole body was so tight, was buzzing with anticipation. He was buzzing, practically electric. 

“You’re going to make me come,” he whispered, trying one last time to get her off him. It hadn’t been a minute and she was going to laugh and call all her friends and tell them how quickly he’d come in her mouth.

Elain hummed, pulling him back to the present. “Come,” she said. A trail of her own saliva connected those swollen lips to his cock and fuck he almost did. He quite liked her telling him what to do, now that he thought about it. Elain took him back in her mouth, squeezed her fingers tight. One, two—

Lucien came with a rough gasp of air. She’d ripped that orgasm out of him and when he jerked his ups upward, unable to avoid the instinctual desperation to bury himself deeper, Elain let him pour himself into her throat. 

Lucien groaned again when Elain wiped her chin with the back of her hand. 

“I think that makes us even,” she said primly, sitting up on her heels.

He gaped for a second, still leaking come onto his stomach. Was she serious? 

“Get on your hands and knees,” he growled. It was the only thing he could think to say that wasn’t thank you, I love you— which, again, seemed like the wrong thing to tell her. 

“Are you going to spank me?” she teased, though Elain did exactly as he asked. Lucien’s eyes rolled upward at the sight of her heart shaped ass wiggling right in front of him. 

He ignored the condom she’d begun to open, unsure if it was safe to use it. It took three seconds to roll it over his erection and another to bring his palm stinging against her ass cheek.

Elain gasped. She hadn’t expected him to do that. Lucien hadn’t either, but she’d put the idea in his head and Lucien couldn’t resist. 

“Are you going to be my good girl?” he asked her. Say yes, say yes, say yes—

“What if I’m not?” she replied. Lucien didn’t know, though he lined himself him up that pretty, wet pussy of hers and pushed himself in an inch. The soft, warm heat of her body nearly made him come again.

He was so fucked. “My good girl gets to come on my cock. And my bad girl gets her ass spanked until she’s raw.”

Elain didn’t hesitate. “I’m your good girl.”

Fuck fuck fuck fuck— Lucien buried himself inside her with a mighty stroke, using her hip to pull her back roughly. Elain moaned, squeezed so tight around him she might have been his own skin. For the first time in his life, Lucien thanked God for the condom. It was the only thing that kept him from becoming a mindless, rutting animal behind her. 

“Are you going to come for me?” he asked, slowly pulling himself out. Lucien would remember this moment until he died. On his death bed, thinking not of a life well lived, but his hands on Elain Archeron’s ass, spreading her apart while his cock vanished into her perfect pussy. 

“Make me,” she replied, half challenge, half plea. Maybe he should have asked for one of the toys in her bedside table, just to ensure his success. This was fine, he told himself. He’d put her on his back if he had to, and if that failed, he’d just go back down on her.

Actually, that seemed like an incredible idea. He nearly proposed it when Elain moaned, shifting to her forearms and changing the angle. Lucien gasped, suddenly deeper than he’d been before. Fuuuuuuuuuuck. 

“Do you like that?” he asked. It was a genuine question. He thrust again, the head of his cock brushing against something distinctly soft. He knew that spot—he’d had his fingers on it not five minutes before.

“Yes,” she panted. Perfect, he told himself. Keep his strokes steady and deep and he’d have her shaking around him in no time.

Though, just to be sure, Lucien snaked a hand around them for her clit. That made her moan, made her pulse around him which Lucien liked more than he’d ever admit. 

“You’re so fucking hot,” he said, unsure what he was even saying. His mind was repeating out a rhythm—stroke, rub, stroke, rub, stroke, rub— 

“My good girl takes my cock so well,” he continued, babbling out words as he tried to hold back his own desperate need to come. Again. It seemed important to call her his good girl, to plant that seed in her head so when they woke in the morning and he bypassed all the social niceties to ask her to be his girlfriend, it seemed normal.

Natural, even. 

Elain had her face buried in her pillows, her hands pulling at her sheets until she’d pulled the corners off.

“Come for me, baby,” Lucien ordered, praying she would. He wasn’t above begging if he had to. “Come on my cock, let me see—”

She was loud enough to disturb the neighbors, not that Lucien cared. The sound speared straight into his balls, breathless and high pitched and needy.

His name, he realized. She’d screamed his name like that.

“Fuck, Elain—”

He couldn’t get another word out, not when his own orgasm ripped through him. Lucien couldn’t think, his eyes blurred black at the edges. When he did manage to look around, his eyes landed on the clock.

He felt like he’d been fucking her for hours. He’d managed twenty solid minutes. She’d come both times, though, which felt like a win all the same.

Lucien discarded the condom gingerly in the bathroom trash, giving her a moment to process what had happened alone. If she wanted him to leave, he’d go though he might also get on his knees and beg. That was a very real possibility, too. 

When he padded back into the dark room, Elain was under the blankets. The corner was flopped to the side in what he hoped was invitation. She smiled when she saw him, pulling him toward her without a word. Lucien tumbled into the bed, gathering her into his arms. Her hair smelled like honey, her body like sweat and to his relief, Elain was naked beneath the covers. 

“Let's make lemon bars in the morning,” he whispered. Elain twisted to look at him. It was clear she expected him to take off. 

“Okay,” she agreed, her brown eyes wide and shining. “And then what?”

“We have our picnic, don’t we?” Lucien didn’t mention he fully intended to fuck her in the grass. That could be a fun little surprise for later, after he’d convinced her to put on another one of those strappy little sundresses. 

Elain burrowed her head in the crook of his arm. “Good.”

“I’m not done with you, you know,” he said, though in truth he could use some water and a thirty minute nap. 

“I know you’re not, Lucien,” she said, trailing her finger over his stomach. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Neither was he. 

[marshmallowprotection]

somebody on tiktok said saeran and yoosung have a breeding kink. thoughts?💀

I tend not to answer NSFT comments because my blog is safe for work. But, I will break my rule for a moment just to give you a basic response because I get so tired of that one.

I disagree with the notion that Saeran would have one. You're looking at a character with complex trauma, and his entire life was built up on the idea that his very birth was meant to benefit his Mother. He went on to admit in the game, if you tell him that you don't want to have a kid, that he is fully aware that he loves you most of all, and he is kind of anxious that he would put you before a child every time.

A lot of people who're child-free come to the conclusion that they don't want kids for similar reasons. There are many reasons, but one of the most important ones is knowing what you value and how you value it. Do you think you're the kind of person who wants to be with your partner and just them for the rest of your life? Do you know that you won't be able to apply the right amount of dedication and care to a young human that will one day be an adult?

It's not even about being able to afford raising child, though, that can be a factor for many people. There's also feeling morally conflicted in every sense of the word by bringing a child into this crumbling world and knowing that they might not have a future no matter how much love you give him. But, again, there's a multitude of reasons why one may choose to be child free.

Because, that's the thing, if you have a child, you have a young human that is one day going to be an adult. That journey is a hard one and that journey is for life once you make the decision to have a child. You need to mentally prepare yourself to put your kid first and think of them always, raising them with the knowledge that they have needs you need to think of as they experience the world for the first time and learn how to exist as a person.

This information has nothing to do with someone having a kink, but I do think when you think about Saeran's trauma, the way he owns up to the thought that he's nervous about the idea of a family, and how readily he communicates that fact, I just can't see him having that as a kink.

The idea of lording control of another person and taunting them by saying you'll make sure they have a kid and can't escape you just isn't it for him. Even in the confines of consensual intercourse. It just feels like his parents, and that's the last thing he wants to feel. His mother purposefully went after his father with the intent of trying to tie him down for money, that's my own assumption, and while I don't think she attempted to have a family with him before tying him down in a marriage first, the fact that she inevitably would've tried that with his father...

It's another reason why I can't see Saeran being turned on at the thought of pretend baby-making. There's just so many reason why I'm not going to believe he has this interest. There are definitely other things he's interested in, but this one and hell, I don't want to see any more people drawing Saeran tied and bound. Stop doing that by the way. Unknown doesn't even do that to MC, and he tends to be most guilty of having fanart drawn this way. That ain't a kink for him and I implore y'all to not, LOL.

I'm going to be honest, even Saeyoung, who wants to be a father by his own admission, arguably, likely doesn't have this kink, either. I'm just saying, I don't think their trauma would make them comfortable with the idea of this particular kink. I suppose someone might could argue for Saeyoung if he's in a world where he doesn't have a gun at his back from a million different sources, but even then, I just don't see it.

As far as Yoosung goes, there's nothing there as far as trauma goes to push him one way or the other, so hey, if that's what you want him to be into when you're fantasizing, who am I to stop you, LOL. After all, I am just one person with an opinion, and even with what I've said, the fact remains that you can imagine whatever you want because this is fandom and my thoughts don't have to align with your thoughts.

[stwrljoo]

Davis Schneider x (GN) Reader

SFW + NSFW Headcannons!

Warning: (mild) sexual themes **DO NOT interact with this if you are a MINOR!**

A/N: there is absolutely NO fanfics or anything for Davis anywhere on the internet? since nobody else has bothered to write for him, i've decided that i will! this man is such a gem, and he deserves all the love!

disclaimer: i do not know anything about Davis on a personal level. these Headcannons are written purely based on personal opinion, and the vibes that i get from him.

SFW:

imma be honest, this man would be the absolute SWEETEST

i sense that he likes taking care of those that are around him

Clement literally said that Davis basically did all the cooking and cleaning (and driving, lol) when they were roomates throughout Spring Training earlier this Year!

if Davis is willing to do that for a coworker/friend, then i have no doubt that he would give the same treatment to someone he's in a romantic relationship with

expect lots of homecooked meals

even after he's been running around in the heat for 4hrs

should he rest and let you take care of dinner? probably

will he? no

this also means that ofc your shared space will always be tidy <3

the only time it might get a little messy is if you, or Davis, is feeling under the weather

bc who wants to clean when they're feeling ill, right?

and he can't keep up with it if he's busy tending to you 😌

but any other time, Davis doesn't hesitate to assist with chores

✨ written by a woman ✨ fr!

you'd always be giddy in his presence

this man's smile literally lights up any room he's occupying

he has more of a subtle sense of humor, but he knows how to pull a laugh out of someone

Davis notices when you physically relax around him, and it makes him feel good to know that you're comfortable at his side

LOWKEY shy

he has said that he's not big on recieving loads of attention

i feel like getting spoiled, or being given the same amount of care he puts towards others, would fluster him a bit

but he'd appreciate every ounce of it regardless

would always return the favor tenfold

obviously, Davis is very serious when it comes to his career!

he would hope that anyone he enters a relationship with is supportive of what he does for a living

(who wouldn't be?!)

of course, if baseball maybe just isn't your thing, he could come to accept that

he might be a little dissapointed, but as long as you support his goals and milestones, i can see him moving past it

but, if you LOVE baseball, he would be ecstatic!

he does strike me as someone who loves sharing his passions

Davis appears to be very close with his family, and a lot of them attend his games, so i know he'd love it if his partner was also in attendance and cheering him on

would come to you when in a slump, or needing advice in regards to how he's playing

feels a sense of.. pride? when he calls you up after a game you couldn't attend and you tell him you'd been watching the whole thing on TV

always looks at you with so much love 🥺

feels he doesn't deserve you

treats you with so much respect and care!!!

NSFW:

this man drives me ABSOLUTELY CRAZY

Davis loves kissing

kissing, kissing, kissing

80% of your foreplay is just making out

and groping 🤭

is amused whenever he leaves marks on your neck and his mustache ends up tickling you

it almost always results in your soft laughter mixing with moans and it drives him MAD

Davis' winning personality continues to shine when it comes to matters in the bedroom

makes sex about YOU

he wants to cum as much as any other man, but he doesn't give much thought to himself until you've been satisfied first

loves giving oral

loves recieving oral

just... loves "mouth stuff" 😳

given the fact that his profession requires a pretty solid workout regiment, Davis has got that stamina!

you want round 2, 3.. ? he's got you covered

for him, (and you 😉) it's better if he doesn't bounce back right away because that means he can dedicate an entire round to getting you off instead

and if you haven't bounced back either, well..... kissing!!!!

i feel Davis is all about that lust and fervidness

he's not just fucking you, he is taking the time to learn and worship your body

(i'm assuming he's had a few flings in his lifetime thus far, but i feel like he's not the type to treat a sexual partner like an object)

"slow and steady wins the race"

the orgasms Davis gives you are INTENSE, so hang on!

loves when you whimper his name!

loves when you pull his hair!

any position that has you on top is his FAVORITE

man likes the view 👀

and likes when you hold his hands and use him as support 👉👈

it puts those lovely arms of his to work, and showing off his strength in any manner gives him a confidence boost

talks lowly in your ear for a lot of it

tells you how good you feel

tells you how beautiful you are

sometimes just curses and says jumbled up nonsense

Davis is kinda quiet i feel, but does have his moments

lets out deep, loud, moans when he cannot contain himself

especially when he hits his climax 🤤

always takes the time to make sure you're all cleaned up and feeling okay aftwards no matter what! just.. again, treats you with so much respect and care!!!