#im certain there will be a lot of love and creativity included

[mooishbeam]

『♡』 Besotted

♡ featuring: yandere!ajax x f!reader

♡ summary: the love of your life knows you without asking, selfless and caring. however, you're slowly starting to realize the man you loved was a mask of the truth hiding underneath. wc: 12.5k+

♡ cw/tw: modern au, mentions of violence/blood, mentions of suicide, stalking, obsession, possessiveness, manipulation, rough sex, sideways sex, cockwarming, mating press, cunnilingus, drugging, overstimulation, praise, pet names (lots of them tbh)

notes: im so sorry i know it took me a long time but my time has been consumed by exams and its finals week soon so ahhhh. it's going to take me a little longer than usual until my semester is over, forgive me!! art by jam8366_dday on ig! <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated!

“Caramel macchiato for… Katheryne?” Your quiet voice deadens among the bustling crowd of businessmen, secretaries, and construction workers alike conversing through their morning wake-up. It’s incomparable to the serene appeal of a corner coffee shop—piled high with board games and books, the nooks and crannies decorated with some sort of trinket or knickknack you collected along the way, baubles that brought you joy and spread some to anyone that entered the cozy hole in the wall—“The Mad Hatter”. People are free to add stickers to the cash register, so convoluted with color similar to graffiti, including the pink-hatted cat Lyney glued to the top. Coffee tables share space with buoyant sofas, opposite of the display case viewing a multitude of extra sweet desserts and breakfast sandwiches. At night, the fairy lights bordering the wide veiled windows glimmered a dim hue that made feathery snow sparkle like stars during winter. You set the coffee under warm lights dotting the ceiling, emanating above the wooden interior. No one is finicky for your tastes; you are happy to see the familiar cheerful or grumpy faces entering the shop. You remember names, faces, and minute personal details they’d forgotten they shared over a steaming cup of latte left to warm because the art was too pretty to drink. They’re busy, but patient; they've acquainted you long enough to not be angry at the wait, and most times come to your defense against unruly customers. 

It's the worst—or for you, the best—in the afternoons, swarming crowds waiting for an afternoon pick-me-up. You and Lyney work to the best of your ability, serving up group orders with a quickness unparalleled by nearby chain coffeehouse’s. You regard it as your passion, although your parents were disappointed when you told them you and Lyney would be buying and renovating an abandoned property states over all for coffee; your delectable drinks have the potential to form long lasting relationships between you and other customers, and there’s a certain creative merit you relish whenever a guest takes pictures of the swan-like artistry foaming on the surface. The taste of bitter beans sparks moments of merriment, longing, and love—in some cases, it’s the best form of intimacy.  

Your best memories live in this shop; the ground powder that scattered everywhere and painted Lyney like a chocolate sculpture when he tried to push the inventory to the highest shelf or staying up after close in the middle of a blizzard to make flimsy homemade decorations for the grand opening with help from Lynette. 

It’s extra special that the very place you stand is where you found the love of your life. You met him at the register, loose curls dipped in autumn tones spilling over his long lashes. The void in his eyes motionless like the ocean before a low tide. You both stared at each other for a moment, taking in the lines and details of your flustering faces. You must’ve been staring for too long, as Lyney tapped your shoulder with a side eye that alerted you to the awkward silence and line heading out the door. You fumbled for apologies and took his order; the ginger boy chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck—Ajax—such a rugged name for a pretty guy. You prepared the Frappuccino with a drizzle of affection bespoken for him. When you gave him the drink, his hand grazed against yours, a kiss without lips. It left you breathless, and with an airy coyness he said, “I didn’t get your name?” You told him, and he tried out the sound on his tongue. You wished he’d say it over and over. With a rosy wash across his cheeks, “A fitting name for your beauty. Have a good day, (Y/N)” was all he said before he walked away, leaving you stunned and smitten. Lyney was the unfortunate victim that dealt with your wearisome fantasizing about Ajax. 

But Ajax already knew your name. And address, and friends.  

How could he not? When he saw you hanging lights in the windows on a particularly sunny morning that made your glowing face shine with pure radiance unrivaled by deities, he sunk endlessly. He vowed to walk at a distance at that same time every day to ogle your lustrous hair, your soft skin that didn’t break a sweat, the curve of your lips. You soon became an itch he couldn’t scratch, a plaguing thought that wiggled in the wrinkles of his brain and made it hard to sleep or work. You, you, you. Is your laugh a heavy snort or more lighthearted, do you have the same sense of humor as him? You’ll like what he likes, think what he thinks. 

You were constantly on his mind, he wondered if you were eating when he ate or how good you were sleeping as he drifted off to his. It’s not his fault that he snapped discrete pictures of your smiling face, you were too adorable to ignore. He valued coming home to kneel at the little shrine he made of your printed gaiety, surrounded by consistently fresh roses and citrus candles he thought you’d smell like. If he stood close enough, it was like you were right in front of him. The apron tied around your waist was a vibrant crimson—his favorite color. It's fate, the way the stars aligned and sent angels down to bless you with a pinafore of his approval. You had to know he was out there; he was already imagining returning to a cheerful home, and your swaying hips as you whipped up a glacé delight. He’d kiss you on the cheek, and you’d pop a tart blueberry in his mouth. Yes—it had to be this way, it must be what you wanted, too. 

Ajax coincidentally found himself rummaging through trash cans in the vicinity for an inkling of receipts from the shop. He stumbled upon it, of course—it’s not like he waited out until nightfall right before garbage day to have the highest chances of finding identification. The jagged fragment of a receipt led to your family, social media, and blogs you dedicated to your baking progress. And he’d monitor the sites on different screens with multiple tabs, an infatuated glaze over those dull eyes that kept him glued to the updates for hours. He made many accounts, liking your posts fervently with flimsy justifications of encouragement. You became reachable day by day. 

The day Ajax decided to pursue you upfront, it was a dream he hoped never to wake. He’d rehearsed it obsessively until the moment he stood in front of the glass door, a tremble in his restless legs at the thought of looking ridiculous. Seeing you up close felt like a special occasion. His heart was beating off-kilter in his quaking chest, as if jumping free fall out of a plane, and he held his breath until it opened. The confidence he mustered up before he got to the register did little to suppress the giddiness rolling in his veins. His pulse paced the closer he got. Two more orders and there you were; the center of his universe, and you didn’t know it yet. Pictures didn’t do you justice—no, he needed to see your grace preserved in museums depicted in rich Renaissance paintings onlookers could only fantasize holding or loving, but you’d be for him, and him alone. He drew a blank. “May I get your name for the order?” His eyes flickered with a brand-new luster, it melded certainty and delusion.  

She wants...my name.  

My name.  

The sweet harmony of your words lulled Ajax to an addicting turbid spiral that swept fondness through the tempest and scattered infatuation in its aftermath. A feeling too tenacious, it must be love. The incessant burn urged him to protect and guide you to him. You need him. Now he watched compulsively with a winded jaw, your smile to other men who couldn't compare to his devotion. They don’t know you like he does. He could map out the corners of your house from the slim backgrounds of your blog posts or name every club you’ve participated in since middle school. Hunger spread where his fists craved contact, like sunfire corroding the taught skin on his knuckles. They’ve breathed your air and existed in your presence. It’s undeserved, they’re unworthy. 

How fucking dare they. 

How lost you must be without him, led astray by intruding greed; he selflessly assumed his responsibility. You are his, after all. So, he stalked behind cars shadowed by harsh streetlamps to ensure you got home safe and intercepted your packages to check for threatening substances. The accomplishment he felt whenever he completed his—in his words, “duties”—instilled exultation beyond any memory. Within the envelopes, he’d leave an elegant note embellished with hearts hinting at his infatuation and the care he put in to maintain your safety. One letter turned to two, then five, to the point where you’d receive a sleeve stuffed with increasingly unhinged letters from your secret admirer that fanned out when you tipped it. 

On Christmas Eve, a limitless cloak of frozen stardust decided to flurry right before your shift ended. You covered Lyney’s shift so he’d have time to spend with Lynette and Freminent; it wasn’t like you had anything to do afterwards. You counted the flakes of the storm through frosted glass, thinking about the wellbeing of your family back home. Mailed gifts couldn't console the grief you felt during the holidays. A knock on the door turned your attention to the silhouette of a man wearing a slouched beanie with a pompom on top. You unlocked the door, and it swung open from the whirling heft of wind and smattered white across the wood from empty streets. 

“Sorry, we just closed-” You looked up, no time to register the freckled face from months ago, that stole your heart with a smile. Icy grains kissed his cheeks, as red as apples, and fused to the wool scarf draped around his trench coat. “Oh! Hello, again.” You tried to play it off, but the crack in your voice teetered. You were suddenly nervous. Ajax grinned hard and shuffled slightly inwards to escape the chill.  

“Hi (Y/N)! I was really hoping you weren’t closed, it’s a good day to grab a hot chocolate, y’know?” 

“It is. You’re probably freezing, please come in.” You should’ve been home by now, but for Ajax, you could spare a few minutes. He unraveled his winter attire to reveal a tightly fitted turtleneck and took a seat at the chair closest to you. You wrap around the counter and start the kettle, struggling with what to do next at the gaze gripping your mind. “One hot chocolate, coming up.” 

“How much I owe ya?” he chirped, arms resting on the table while he watched you grab two mugs. “No worries, it’s on the house. Consider it your Christmas present.” 

“I appreciate that, thank you. You really are kind...Lyney left you by yourself tonight?” You wondered how he knew Lyney’s name when they hadn’t met, but quickly brushed it off. 

“Yeah, I wanted him to spend time with his family.” 

“And you don’t have any here?” You didn’t retain your usual weariness towards acquaintances. On this lonely night Ajax didn’t feel like much of a stranger. 

“Nah, moved away to start this.” Your hands gestured to the quaint interior. Ajax scanned his surroundings, marveling at the scenery before he spoke. “What you’ve done with this, it’s lovely. Your ambition and dedication are apparent from the way you treat the customers, I can tell you’re passionate about what you do.” Your body flared like summer and succeeded in hushing the breeze. You poured a cup full of thick cocoa and plopped a dollop of whipped cream on both. “It’s not much, but-” the mugs settled on the table, and you sat across from him. “It smells amazing, (Y/N). You’re an expert at this” he interrupted. You traced the rim with your finger and rested your head on the other hand. 

“Thanks...I assume you don’t have family here, either? Think you’d be ripping open gifts by now if you did.” He took another sip. “Yup, they live in a different country. I should visit them soon” he sighed and glanced at the jumbled wool scarf. “Did a sibling make that for you?” you asked. 

“Yeah, my sister. A parting gift.” 

“It’s beautiful, she’s very talented” you remarked, admiring the delicate fleece. The bittersweet smile in response stuck to your heartstrings. “She is.” 

You both drank in silence and occasionally met each other's eyes, only to turn away. Something unsaid hung in the air. "Winter has a way of making us reminisce. It’s so depressing” you confided. You hadn’t told Lyney, but you were terribly lonely these past months. You replaced your emotions with extra shifts, but they came crashing down in the darkness of your bedroom. Ajax gazed at you like he could see through you. 

“The sky appears magnificent under the snow's embrace. Its purity is like the moon's gentle radiance. I don’t think there’s anything like a world covered in snow" he soothed. His words flustered you, and you homed in on the white trails dancing in your lukewarm cup. 

“I’ve never thought of it like that. I used to hate snow. It feels...intruding, I guess.” 

“But if we don’t allow ourselves to be intruded, how will we love?” he blurted. It was comforting to hear in the moment, and you returned his smile. 

“Is the hot chocolate good?” you asked. 

“It’s perfect.... you’re perfect.” You chuckled at the notion, mistaking it for pity. “I’m not perfect.” 

“But you are. The way you carry yourself, your intelligence, your courtesy. You’re flawless, gorgeous inside and out and you don’t even notice.” The way Ajax looked at you, on the verge of his seat and studying your face, lips, and hair. You couldn’t deny the flattery that drowned you and dragged you the more he persisted. “How would you know from one encounter?” His mouth fixed to say it, the truth, but he tight-lipped and reached into his coat pocket instead. He grabbed a blue velvet box and slid it to you. 

“I wanted to give you this. Ever since I saw you.” It felt expensive under your fingertips. You unclasped the front, and it opened to a twinkling pendant. It was a cable chain dangling an oval sapphire gem, with 18 karat white-gold halo sunbursts surrounding it. It’s breathtaking, as if stolen from the tomb of a goddess. 

“Wow, this is...stunning. Ajax, I can’t accept this; it’s too much” you pressured. You’ve never received a gift of this caliber from anyone, it didn’t feel right to look at it. 

“Consider it your Christmas present” he repeated. You shook your head and held up the box to hand it back to him. “I can’t, I shouldn’t-” 

“Please” he pleaded. He clasped your hands, a reassuring thumb gently caressing yours. You were so focused on its extravagance that you didn’t notice the note stuck to the roof of the box. Refined script dotted with hearts; the same style as the hundreds in your closet. Your mouth gaped. 

“This letter...you...have you been the one sending me all those love letters?” You should've had your suspicions, or the urge to back away, but you weren’t afraid. You tried to string together his ability to find your address or mail, or how he knew Lyney, but your brain couldn’t clear the fog of feeling loved after so many years. It’s a warm hug to the blood that instinctively ran cold. Your heartbeat’s fast, half with anxiety and the other with desire. 

Ajax solemnly hung his head and retracted his hands. He fidgeted with his thumbs. “I wasn’t sure how to tell you, I thought about being upfront, but I was so scared of your response and I didn’t want you to hate me, so I thought maybe if I sent them anonymously you could start liking the person behind it or if I played my cards right you’d find out who it was...but that doesn’t make any sense now that I’m thinking about it, I just wanted to be near you. You’re so amazing and smart and beautiful, I just...s-sorry…I’m rambling. I hope you can understand; I-I didn’t mean to harm I just want to make sure you’re safe” he choked. The strained words tumbled over one another and broke in places, where they traveled off at the end. Ajax averted your eyes, pools of tears threatening to fall from the corners. The sudden mood change took you off guard, and you reached for his guilty hands. You were on the verge of divulging your entirety for him, be it the isolation of the big city or lack of attention. He didn’t seem like a bad guy; he might have been misguided. What’s the harm in giving him a chance? 

“It’s okay, Ajax. I’m not upset, I would be lying if I said I wasn’t flattered” you giggled. “The letters are sweet, I read all of them. They make me feel a little better about living in a shithole apartment. Thank you.” He looked at you, bottomless intensity searching for more. “I’m interested in you, too” you added. 

“Then you’ll be my girlfriend?” It was phrased as a question but arrived as a proclamation. “...I would love that.” 

Ajax moved around the table. You rose to wrap your arms around his neck while he squeezed your waist with his head lying on your shoulder. The duping tears vanished like they didn’t exist, and his shameful expression morphed into a conniving smirk stretching unnaturally in his triumph. Your authentic touch, the smell of perfume wafting in his nose. It’s not citrus, but it’s you. You, everything is you. This is how things were meant to be. His eyes curved like arches from sheer elation, biting his lip to stifle the cackle. You’re together, at last. 

The snow stopped some time ago, but the blizzard was just beginning. 

Your relationship with Ajax progressed fast after that day. A weariness dulled within you after you came to your senses from your prior confession, and you weren’t sure about the stability of his neurotic nature. However, when Ajax showed up with a bouquet of the loveliest flowers you’ve ever laid eyes on during an exhausting shift, it shined above all else. He showers you with consistent love and attention and worships the ground you walk on with doting devotion. He's clingy and somewhat suffocating, but his sick adoration blesses you with rose-colored glasses; you’re divinity on a golden pedestal in his eyes, and if he fell hard, you fell harder. The considerate, caring, good listener he is makes the small hiccups go over your head. In the first few months you were unequivocally enamored, the kind that tied your universe to his. You patter about him to Lynette, who gives you half-concerned approval at the story of how you met and the “little things” you cherish.  

Like when he allowed you to move in without a second thought. The paint chipped around dodgy windowsills and fraying carpets, and your landlord wouldn’t pay for the fixes. Unfortunately, you needed a place to stay and couldn’t afford to speak up about the horrible conditions. You were used to your slumlord at that point, but the absence of working heat and busted appliances led you to the arms of your boyfriend, sobbing about the stress your landlord subjected you to. He scooped you like fragile glass as you faltered through shaky breaths grating your lungs and hushed your distress. Kissing your head, he rubbed your back and mumbled into your hair. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll take care of it...I’ll take care of everything.”  

A week later you’d found out that your landlord died from a gruesome suicide, and all tenants had to leave the auctioned duplex. Ajax took you in, and you began adapting to his midtown townhouse. Though you felt like a mooch at first, the welcoming interior had you snuggling between his downy bedding in no time. He shouldered your burden, accepted your genuine self and lavished generous replacements of the items you couldn’t carry. You don’t lift a finger around him, and he readily cooks and cleans for your comfort. 

You’ve gotten accustomed to his presence. When you wake, he’s either watching you sleep silently or preparing food for you to take to work. Ajax follows you around like an obedient pet, smoothing your hair and highlighting how beautiful you look in your rough post-morning wake-up state. He’ll try to kiss you before toothpaste, and you playfully mush his disappointed face off to get dressed. He compensates by kissing in other places, your clothed knee as he ties your shoes or your hands when they interlock. Prior to departing, he attaches that sapphire elegance to your neck. You grab your tidy lunchbox and stroll together in the early hours of the morning for your opening shift. “Have a good day, baby” he says, and places sugary smooches from your lips to your forehead and back again. You’d stand there forever, embracing his warmth if your alarm didn’t notify you to start prepping.  

When Ajax isn’t around, and you’re busy piping frosting onto cakes, there’s a profound hole in your happiness that can’t be filled with buttercream. The way his nose scrunches when he laughs hard, and those hot honey strands tickling your cheeks when you sleep because his face is directly on top of yours make you crave his sight and touch. Sometimes you ponder what you’ve done to deserve someone so over the moon for you. Hell, you’d give him the moon if that’s what he wanted; it’d barely cover a fraction of the benevolence he’s evinced. For now, you blink distraction away, and there's spread sloppily piled over the cakes and countertop. You simper to yourself; such a handsome, tender handful. 

Your daydreams carry you through close, and you and Lyney remain as you wipe down tacky tables with rags lathered in disinfectant. You’re circling surfaces with vigor, quick to move to the next. You hear him laugh from another table. “Okay, speed cleaner. Missing your house husband?” he teases. You roll your eyes and pretend to throw the rag at him. “Hurry up, I wanna go home.” He fake cowers and throws his hands up in surrender. “Yes ma’am. Don’t waste all your strength, Lynette will be upset if you can’t dance with her tomorrow.”  

“I’m not some old woman, Lyn. I can party.” You force away the memory of sleeping on Lyney’s shoulder in the lounge area of a booming club. 

“Sure, grandma. Don’t forget your cane when I pick you up” he jokes. You chortle, and actually throw the rag this time. Too bad his agile form dodges it. “I gotta let Ajax know.”  

“...Right.” Lyney loses momentum and stares at the steaming bucket for a pregnant pause, stirring the rag to buy time. You glance towards him, and he shifts a peccant look. You turn on your heels and lean on the back of a chair. 

“Spill it” you demand.  

“Spill what?” 

“What you actually wanna say.” Lyney bites the inside of his cheek to physically restrain the itch that vents brutal honesty. “I don’t think you’ll like what I have to say.” 

You narrow your brows and sigh in disbelief. “So what? We’ve been friends since high school, just tell me.” He pinches the bridge of his nose and gulps a deep breath. “Lyney.” 

“It’s about Ajax” he exhales. “Oh.”  

“I’m worried about you.” You weren’t expecting the serious air, it sounds like an intervention. It's unnatural coming from your easygoing friend. 

“Really? Why?” you question. He blinks for a few moments, dumbfounded at the innocent audacity, or willful ignorance. 

“Some of the stuff you say about him...it creeps me out. How is it not creeping you out?” he stresses, gawking at the exorbitant gem. 

“Hmm, I’m not sure what you mean.” To you, Ajax isn’t the scary type. Mysterious maybe, but his affection prevents you from seeing him as anything but the missing half of your soul. 

“Okay. You don’t remember telling me how he kept that rotting coffee cup from when you guys first met? Or how he watches you sleep? He made your favorite meal first try and called it a ‘lucky guess?’” The more he goes on, the more disbelieved he becomes.  

“I think it’s romantic” you chide. He expels his frustration. 

“(Y/N), I'm not saying any of this to be a hater, but all of this is unhealthy. Unhealthy might be an understatement. I mean, the man acts like he can't live without you. What if you were to break up, can you be sure he won't lose his fucking mind?” The hypothetical calamity of separation sinks seeds in puddles of doubt. It’s not possible. 

“We love each other. That won’t happen.” 

“It’s been over a year, and you know nothing about him. He comes out of nowhere, sweeps you off your feet, love bombs you, and you take it at face value. Maybe he truly is the one and it’s love at first sight, but this whole situation is...odd. I care about you, (Y/N), and this guy scares me. He’s hiding something.” You attempt to formulate a fact you’ve learned about him, a detail to prove how close you’ve gotten, and come to realize there’s none in your reservoir. You know naught of his friends or family or wealth. Ajax tells you safe verities, like his favorite food and hobby. You don’t thirst for personal space or secrets when it comes to Ajax, and the stygian plunge in his eyes gives you no hints, but you believe the pleasing words that escape his lips either way.  

You glance at the empty Tupperware on the counter, that was once packed with a hefty sandwich and strawberries carved into hearts. He's effortlessly adorable, a small berry-stained note with a simple phrase: "you'll do great today <3". Your dream man, he wouldn't hide things from you, you won’t fathom the thought. “I-” 

Ding 

That dazzling toothy gapped grin spreads warmth across your chest and the room instantly feels a bit brighter. Ajax saunters like he owns the place, engulfing your frame in his stature and placing a kiss on your head. Lyney freezes though Ajax ignored his existence. “I’m getting ready to leave” you muffle into the musky denim jacket. He nods, but his action won’t follow his hands sturdy on your waist as you shimmy out. You make haste to the back room, past the pantry dry goods and collect your sweater and bag. 

You’re about to push open the swinging door when you pause, catching a glimpse of Ajax and Lyney through the oval window. They don’t normally interact in the same space, and you thought it best to respect their boundaries. Ajax is turned away from you, but you can see Lyney clear as day, a stone solid unease skipping on his skin that makes calculated breaths too obvious. It’s silent enough to hear a pin drop. His arms are stuck to the sides, and you observe the apron jumbled in his clutches shaking ever so slightly. He’s trained to the hickory grain of the floor, and from a small portion of Ajax’s visible face, it’s a dreadful expression unbeknownst to you.  

There’s an almost tenebrous loom towering over Lyney, and you feel an alarming shiver settle in your lower spine. Were his eyes normally this gloomy? Your heart rate palpitates when it shouldn’t. You want to look away from the swirling dark depths possessing your soulmate, shooting daggers at your friend. His jaw is clenched to popping, veins on his neck and hands chasing bone. He has a lethal grip on Lyney’s shoulder, and the rough tension pulls at the wrinkling undershirt. But he sneers—a twisted, coiling kind that doesn’t match his glare—an impersonation of affability. 

“Ajax” you mutter softly as you sway the door. He turns sharply, and it’s like a flipped switch. The rage decays to ash swiftly and he’s yours again, your adoring admirer. “I'm ready.” He waits for your approach and tangles your hands. You make your way out, freeing Lyney from capitivity. He holds the door open for you to leave, and you shout “Bye, Lyn! I’ll see you tomorrow.” A shell-shocked cast on his face, he doesn’t say a word. 

You sit at the dining table, feeling disconnected from reality while the kitchen rises with a clatter of pans and glass. You scroll through posts on your phone and occasionally peek over at the corridor to watch Ajax work. His passion shows when he cooks, rocking the skillet to upturn the veggies sizzling within. His broad back flexes with skillful movements, and he looks at you, winking with a teasing pucker on his glossy lips. You giggle. I was just imagining things. 

He slides the plates on the table and sits across from you. Ajax sits like a giddy child waiting for you to try their creation, and you take the first bite. The bountiful flavor dances on your tongue. “It’s really good!” you muffle through bites. A tinge of pink sets on his cheeks. “I’m glad you like it.” 

You chew haphazardly out of focus. You can’t help but notice how quiet your phone has been since you’ve moved in, it feels foreign in your possession. Not a single call from your friends came through, forgotten and invisible. You contemplate apologizing to Lyney tomorrow, it was wrong to get defensive towards compassion. Ajax interrupts his eating to track your fork picking at the meal. 

“You okay, sweetheart? You aren’t eating.” 

You awake from your trance. “Huh? Oh, nothing. Just feels kinda off.” Ajax’s back straightens, and he tenses throughout at a semblance of negative diction. “What does? The food? I’ll remake it” he stumbles. 

“No no, the food is great. It’s, I don’t know. I haven’t got a call from Tiggy in a while.” The corners of Ajax’s mouth contort. 

“Really...I heard he’s been hangin’ out with some new people.” His tone is dry, it strives to be nonchalant. His elbows rest on the table, and he carves his knife into bloody steak like struggling living bone. 

“So, I guess that means he can’t message me anymore, huh” you chuckle. He twists the knife deeper, as if it’s digging in his back. “He’s just a bad friend honestly. Not consistent, you even said he missed your birthday last year. Who needs a friend like that?” 

“I guess.” Meanwhile, you flip through your contacts searching for Tighnari’s name; come to find out he’s nowhere in your phone. In fact, a lot of messages and numbers seemed to have dwindled over time. Your own parents, vanished. Perhaps you were so overworked you’d forgotten they deleted. You start scouring for his profile, but it doesn’t come up. You can’t imagine Tighnari wiping out his entire presence, and it’s not just him. Outside him are the piles of male friends you seldom locate, and you become flustered at your blindness. You look at Ajax, and his eyebrows quirk up to inquire about your confusion. 

“That’s so weird. I should try calling him-” 

“Don't.” It’s not suggestive, its one note, stern demand. It rings in your ears, and when that mask slips for a terrifying moment, you hold your breath until it recurs. “’S not that I don’t want you to, honey. He clearly doesn’t care in the first place, that’s not a sign of a good friend. I’m just trying to help; you know I always have ou- your best interest.” There’s an unrelenting pit in your stomach telling you it’s wrong. “You seem tense since we left, Ajax. Are you alright?” He stops, it leaves you on edge when a formidable shadow casts over his eyes from his bangs that make them look as endless as the bottom of the sea.  

“I feel like...you’re straying away from me. You’re becoming more secretive. Have I done something to violate your trust?” You don’t consider how Ajax knew Tighnari, let alone how he’d find the password to your phone. It was your fault, it had to be. The solemn quiver of his lips clears your suspicion. You’d forget it all to see him happy again. You stand and sway to his side of the table, sitting on his lap to take his face in your hands. “Not at all, babe. My phone’s been acting up, I didn’t mean to accuse you. I just asked because you and Lyney looked high-strung. ‘M sorry.” You kiss him softly with reassurance, and he melts in your touch. The foggy residue shows on his blushing face, and you introduce another to his cheek. “I’m going to a party with Lyney and Lynette tomorrow, so I wanted to see if Tiggy would come.” 

“Ah...okay. Don’t worry, darling, it was a short conversation.” Vague and unassuming, but it didn’t matter now. Ajax can’t deceive you. 

The state you drifted off—lying on Ajax’s chest with his arms embracing your lax figure—is not how you awake. A piercing scream rises, and you jump out of bed in a drowsy stupor. “Ajax?” you addle. Metal clangs to the floor, and the sheets hang low on your hips before you dart down the stairs and through the dining room to discover the cause of the noise.  

He’s kneeling on the kitchen tile, compressing his forearm. Vermillion overflows between his fingers and palm and spatters his shirt. The knife, along with a clumsily chopped apple, is muddy with blood. “Oh my god!” You sprint for a towel and first aid kit crammed underneath the kitchen sink. When you return, Ajax is hissing from the sting, salty tears smeared on his eyelashes. You accompany him on the floor, ignoring the crime scene peppering the cabinets and gently glide his hands to get free view of the wound. “Are you okay?”  

“Yeah, now that you’re here.” It’s a nasty cut, not a gash but painful, nonetheless. You bring him to wash the excess blood, and pat it dry carefully. The fizz from disinfectant makes his arm jolt, but you hold him steady to apply. As you bandage his arm, he blinks away the twinge.  

“I’m sorry, baby. You have work in a few minutes, and you’re here taking care of me. Go ahead and get ready, I’ll do it.” 

“No way in hell am I leaving you like this. Don’t apologize” you insist, the end of your wrap stuffed to secure. You can’t conceive clocking in or partying tonight while Ajax suffers at home. “I’m gonna call out for a couple days so I know you’re well. Relax, I’ll be right back, okay?” He nods, and you rush to the bedroom to retrieve your phone. Ajax wipes his face on his sleeve, streaking insincere sorrow near the serpentine smirk. 

You spent the day cleaning the home, wiping the kitchen top to bottom and making dinner for Ajax. He rests in bed, and you often check in on him. Treating him like an intensive care patient might’ve been excessive, but he accepts your gentle touch and hand fed meals nursing him back to health. You’re lying in bed with him, and the load of his brawny chest forces yours into the mattress with your legs on either side. You massage the pads of your fingers into his scalp, and your breathing weighted blanket emits a groan. Dazed and fully lax, lulling from the rise and fall of your chest. 

The second day is the same, but the lack of pressure divides your dreary lids. It’s midnight, and it casts a fluorescent glow that permeates the room. You feel your way from walls to banister, and as you’re about to step down the stairs to get water, you pause before the living room. Crouched, peeking through the bars of the banister, you see Ajax on the couch in absolute quiet. Shade stands in place of his facial features, obscured besides the hazy veneer in his iris that bores into the journal in front of him. The collage catches moonbeams on the coffee table, crowded with tiny notes that peak out the uniform pages, and polaroid pictures glued to each sheet, stacked so thick it can’t close. He uses the pen you thought you’d lost moving in, running his tongue over the older bite marks on its base. Squinting your eyes fails at registering the specifics. 

You suck in a breath and take another step, hoping the unreliable foundation won’t give way to whining wood. He skims across the words as if they’re memorized, and crows to himself. Eeeeir. It conforms, and the minute you press into it and that haunting sound whispers through the house, Ajax cracks his neck to your position. You stiffen, a deer in headlights. He puts down the pen. 

“Oh, darling. I’m sorry, did I wake you?” he coos. You shoot to a stand, and Ajax meets you at the bottom of the staircase. “I-I just wanna get some water.” You feel meek and small, fairly avoiding his gaze. He enfolds your jaw with his bad arm like it doesn’t hurt, and pecks you on your forehead, light with anxious sweat. “I can get that for you, dear.” Before he can go, you interrupt. 

“Ajax.” 

“Hm?” 

“The book over there, did you make it?” He alternates between you and the book and glisters his pearly whites. He delicately hauls it to you, “I was going to wait for it to be done, but you can read it now if you want.” You hesitate. You aren’t sure if you want to read it. Regardless, you ferry it in your arms, hefty despite being incomplete. 

You unfurl the cover. 

Page after page, your pulse pumps sonorously in your ears, uncontrollable where goosebumps surge through ebbing limbs. Without a doubt, you’re frightened. Aghast, gaping mouth with eyes the size of dinner plates. Dating from your first encounter, poems and chaotic paragraphs of infatuation. Your sleeping silhouette, columns of reverence, strands of your hair taped like art—pictures of you you’ve never seen taken behind cars and lamp posts.  

The lengthy muddled captions emphasize how beautiful you are, how gracious you must be, because he hadn’t met you yet. On top of it all, written repeatedly in red and smothered in hearts, “I love you (Y/N)”. You don’t want to hold it. It’s broiling on your palms; you want it thrown in fire and scorched to shriveling. It almost reads as a manifesto, with jumbled threats sprinkled above overriding ink. Brutal crimes he’d commit if you were ever harmed, the gory actions he envisioned doing to your male customers. It’s incoherent and unorganized. The last page you flip to etches drought in your throat; A dried scrap of the towel you used to tend to his injury is taped inside. A new entry: 

“ (Y/N) takes care of me! without her I am nothing  my sun and star        ♡    my blood and bone           ♡  ♡ my goddess, my angel,   the very essence of my existence     ♡        ♡     my love is infinite and eternal   you are destined to be mine   ♡     ♡        forever, forever she is mine ”  

You peek up from the book, not prepared to face the source. Ajax ogles you with heart eyes that can’t contemplate the absurdity. They surround you, limit you from speaking undulating panic. Part of you is fearful, the other reserves pure love you still have for him.  

“Do you like it, honey?” No, you hate it. It’s scary and not the man you fell in love with. But those sonnets and odes dripping in honey—descriptions that trickle raw vulnerability and expose his truest intentions—are hard to detest when he treasures you earnestly. His expression, he’ll shatter to flecks if you devastate him. So, you scrape back the bile and oblige a strained smile. 

“I love it, Ajax. Thank you.” 

You’re excited to be at work, and relieved to see Lyney. His banter distracts you from the overbearing air at home. Ajax proceeds like nothing happened, or at least nothing for him. It’s fresh in your mind, torments your thoughts as you get ready for the day. His bare chest hugs you from behind while your brush your teeth and he trails groggy kisses from your shoulder to your jaw. It leaves heat on your ears, and dread in your stomach. The necklace going around you is a cage. 

Closing arrives, and you start wrapping things up. 

“Could you get the dark roast box?” Lyney asks from the bookshelf. 

“Heard” you reply, strolling to storage to find that unnamed box squeezed beside larger product. Balancing the contents, you swing open the door, and let out a gasp to your shock. 

“(Y/N)!” Hollers from the dining area. Collei, Tighnari, and astoundingly, Zhongli swarm near Lynette and Freminent. They’re removing their sweaters, but you don’t give Collei or Tighnari time before you charge at them with an immovable hug.  

“Tiggy, Collei! Oh my god!” She welcomes your embrace, and you hear a labored sigh from Tighnari as he tries to pry your arms. “You might fracture my ribs if you keep hugging so tight.” Collei chuckles, and you break the reunion. “I missed you so much!” she bubbles, practically doing happy feet to exert her enthusiasm. You move to Zhongli and greet him with a lukewarm “Hello.” 

Zhongli, your college boyfriend. The terms you ended on were neither good nor bad. He was a cold selfish player, who wanted to have his cake and eat it too. Unfortunately, he got clumsy with the surplus of women he juggled, and you found out you were a number among many. You shed misery in front of his dorm room, and he stilled a detached glare whilst you shouted through its paper-thin halls with unfiltered rage. It was one of the worst moments of your life. A couple years down the line, and you’ve learned to forgive him for his disrespectful, arrogant attitude.  

“You look well” he charms with silky bass. “I am.” 

The couple hours you spend catching up and playing board games goes fluently. Tighnari, Lynette, and Freminent rib about the rules they established mid-way through their card game, and you and Collei sit enchanted by the cozy villager simulation on her handheld console. One of her legs is on top of yours, and you’re leaning in her space. Zhongli can’t catch your sight, purposely projecting louder than usual as he enjoyed a drink made by Lyney. 

“She’s so cute! What’s that one called?” 

“Merengue, she’s my favorite.” 

“Hope Merengue helps you with your PhD thesis” Tighnari intrudes, followed by an annoyed sigh at the “+2” card Freminent puts down. 

“Ugh, don’t remind me!” 

“I didn’t know you were going for a PhD, that’s great” you praise. 

“I guess you wouldn’t know, since you don’t bother to call. Had to find out how you’re doing from Lyney” he jokes. You tilt your head. “Me? You have me blocked on everything.” 

“You don’t come up for me either. I’ve tried calling you a few times, but it went to voicemail. I assumed you had a new phone” Collei supports. You reply with a dry chuckle, and navigate accounts you blocked, evidence they were restricted. It concludes with blank lists where their names should appear. Nothing, not even a way to add them again. This whole ordeal makes you feel like you’re going crazy. You feel bile filling the chambers of your throat, accompanied by a distinct unsettling swell on your temples. Collei notices your furrowed brows and rubs your back. 

“Is everything alright?” Her voice is removed from static hammering your eardrums. 

“Uh, y-yes. I need some water.” You move to the register, where Lyney is wiping down the counter. He slides you a water bottle from the mini fridge. “Don’t throw up, I just cleaned this.” 

“I’ll do my best” you retort. He slants to you, whispering, “Sorry about Zhongli, they didn’t tell me he was tagging along.” You wave it off and take a swig.  

“We gotta talk later. You were right...he’s hiding something.” He gives a comforting nod, and a slender hand enters your peripheral vision.  

“You mind making another, Lyney?” 

“God, you’re insatiable” he complains, and takes Zhongli’s cup for a refill.  

“You both did an outstanding job with the café. It’s homely.” You snort, head resting on your hand. “Is that your way of saying it’s shit?” 

Zhongli frowns, “I’m being serious, I’m proud of what you’ve done here.” 

“Interesting. I’m surprised this isn’t a downgrade to you.” 

“Anything you contribute to is an automatic upgrade.” That sad attempt at flirtation makes you scoff. “Guess your post-college affairs aren’t as frequent if you’re stooping this low.” Maybe you weren’t over it completely. 

“How many times must I apologize?” 

“Until you die.” 

“I’m willing to do that, as many times as it takes.”  

You huff, “It doesn’t matter, Zhongli. I’m in a relationship.” 

“Are you happy?” You don’t have a quip for that question, and it rains on your emotions when you consider it. A flower struggles to bloom through intense downpours. 

“Of course I am.” His smile is frail, and he places a mellow hand on your shoulder. “Then he has all he could ever ask for.”  

The door abruptly opens. Collei’s holding it, and behind it, is Ajax. Dire tension hangs in the air, arid like the anticipation of disaster. Faint smirk and murky glower; the swirling spiral coaxes the same fear you felt last night, and the previous days. His face can’t decide what demeanor to convey, it forces gladness where darkness veils his stare. You tread away from Zhongli, praying he didn’t see the hand that was on you moments ago. Your friend's wave, but he doesn’t return the friendly gesture, instead firing a shaded cast of disgust. He saunters to you with wrenched posture, and each step makes your heart race. 

“Sweetheart, you didn’t answer the phone. I was worried.” He guides you to him by your lower waist. Zhongli watches as Ajax kisses the corner of your mouth, and you beam from the one that tickles your nose. “’M sorry, not feeling so good.” 

“You didn’t tell me you’d be at a party.” 

“It was a surprise.” 

“Ah, I see. These are your friends?” he asks, as if he doesn’t know. 

“Yeah, from back home.” 

“Hello” Zhongli chimes in, holding out his hand to shake. Ajax methodically turns his head to him. You swear you see a vein popping out of his forehead, a splitting stress on his teeth. “Who are you.” 

“Zhongli, I’m an old friend of hers from college. We had a few classes together.” 

“...Friend” he mocks with rictus, “I’ve never heard your name before.” 

“Emphasis on '’old’. I figured I’d stop by since everyone else was here, it’d be a shame to waste such lovely weather-” 

“You talk a lot” he states monotone. Zhongli sneers, “Some may say. I’m quite talkative during social gath-” 

“So shut the fuck up.” The room hushes. You feel the witnesses shrinking themselves at the crushing tension.  

“Excuse me?” 

“Why were you touching her.” He’s jittery, suppressing the turbulent urge shredding through him.  

“I didn’t realize she was your ‘property’” Zhongli scolds. 

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” You put yourself between them, splaying your fingers across Ajax’s chest. His mood switches easily at your expecting gaze. “Ajax, baby, I’m tired. Can we go home now?” He pauses for a final glare at Zhongli. 

“Of course. Let’s go.” 

You breathe a sigh of relief and hold onto his arm as you storm out of the coffeehouse, no time for goodbyes from your friends. You center on leashing Ajax home. Blocks down, you hear the far-off patter of footsteps on stone getting louder. It’s too dinning to ignore, and as you turn around your free arm is snatched by Zhongli. You shriek, “(Y/N), wait, don’t go yet-” 

Whack! His head flies back and pushes him off balance before his feet find stability. It happens so fast, and you look at Ajax, who has a most terrifying dusk pouring on his livid features. Blood gushes from Zhongli’s nose, but he straightens up tall with his fists held in front of him. Ajax cackles, and jabs between the fists that barely have time to block. His movements are fluid, swinging effortlessly after they fall to his sides. Zhongli paces back, and Ajax charges towards him with quick solid blows that make his loafers scratch on the pavement. He plants a mean gut punch to his torso, and Zhongli doubles over until Ajax punches him in the eye with steel knuckles. He collapses, but his fighting hands linger, any chance to defend himself against your merciless boyfriend. That is, until Ajax sits above him, and begins beating him to a pulp. 

Whack! Whack! Whack! His hits are thundering and vicious, tracking blood to his skin from the momentum. You feel lost to time, lost on what to do to save this situation. It sounds like bone swimming in curdling clots and makes you sick. You dive to Ajax, gone by the dead visage. You snake your arms around his waist.  

“Ajax! Please stop!” you scream at the top of your lungs. It falls on deaf ears, but you continue to scream. You’re sobbing into his back and yelling to a hoarse end, when suddenly the punches stop. He gets off Zhongli mechanically and braces your faint legs to rise. It’d be wholesome if not for the blood splattering his hands. He notices your tears and wipes them away, streaking faint blood across your cheek. “Don’t cry, sweetheart. I’m here now.” 

The entire walk home, he’s silent. You hate it when he’s silent. There are cuts spread over his hands and blood steadily runs from the top lip to his swollen bottom lip. He stares off in the distance, concentrated on something—rage, anger—stirring in his cotton-filled brain. You can't read him, and you wonder if you ever had that privilege. 

The pieces come together themselves in a puzzle you unconsciously rejected. You can’t recall the last time you spoke to your parents. His ability to know your favorite meals without talking or gifting you outstanding presents that surfaced memories you’d long forgotten. Collei, Tighnari, Lyney, it’s unmistakable. You beg to be naïve again, hopelessly in love and enraptured.  

You’d rather keep your eyes shut. The sinister rampage spilling out of him is miles apart from the Ajax who serves you breakfast in bed every day and places soft kisses on your body from head to toe. Love is enough, and you know how much he does to show it. Was there another way? Is it your fault this happened? You can’t focus either or organize your jumbled thoughts, and find yourself searching for reassurance within him, any inkling of affection to prove he still loves you. When you sheepishly reach out to grab his wounded hand, he curls around it, and the thump in your heart reignites. A pulse loud enough to subside the dread clamoring in your feet, warning you to run. 

You make it home, and Ajax goes to the kitchen sink to wash away his crimes. He watches red cyclone down the drain, and you lean on a counter close to him. 

“Ajax?” 

“Yea?” he chirps.  

“Zhongli...will he be okay?” you meek. 

“Mhm. I didn’t kill him.” The matter-of-fact reply renders a shudder in your bones.  

“Is something wrong?” The kitchen is small, and from the way you’re standing you’ve closed yourself off to him. 

“No baby,  nothings….nothings wrong” he says, that convincing tone, smooth like satin. 

“But I’m worried. You’ve never acted like this before, tell me what’s on your mind.” He shuts off the water, and the cylindrical pull seeps a guttural groan. He grips the granite, and even that seems to deform. He finally turns to you, a hurt expression colliding with fiendish somber eyes and taut lips. 

“Am I not good enough for you?”  

“You are more than enough” you hearten. Ajax rebuttals a bitter laugh and spouts the candor he’d been gnawing on. 

“I tried. I tried ignoring your kindness. I tried being pitiful, hurting myself so that your eyes were only on me”, he creeps towards you, and your feet move on their own backpedaling. The echo of his self-inflicted scar produces beads of sweat, distracting so that the back of the wooden chair presses into your back and you almost topple over. Nowhere to go, and now he overshadows you with delicate fingertips slithering across your paling cheeks and behind your jaw, “but you’re surrounded by love. People love you.” 

His words drag and descend further, “Ohh, and it’s not fair at all.” 

“Why are they allowed your attention. It should be me. Only me. Don’t you want me?” Laced with love, but you can’t taste it. His dilated orbs ping-pong as they scan your face for confirmation. You bring your palms over his and muster fading courage in timid waves. 

“I love you Ajax. So, so much. But the way you’re acting scares me. It’s my fault and I could’ve gone home, but I haven’t seen them in a long time. I didn’t think things would end up like this.” He pauses, and engulfs you in an ardent embrace, his hand on the back of your head and another on your lower back. Oh, sweetie muffles through strands of your hair as he sways your bodies. You’re mannequin-like in his stifling sight. 

“Nononono, it’s not your fault honeypot. You’re too pure for this world, so kind without thinking. So perfect” he mumbles, absurd drivel seeping through the coherent parts in formidable notes—how he loves you, needs you, can’t live without you— “but they’re leeches. They try to taint you, show you horrible, disgusting things. That piece of shit was looking at me, he was asking for a fight. And he tried to put you in the middle. You could’ve gotten hurt, or God know what. I’ll protect you, my sweet, at any cost." 

“Ajax, I don’t need your protection.” It’s silent, profound when he retracts. You forget how to breathe or talk as he slides to your shoulders and holds them in place. His voice lowers. 

“You don’t need…me?” 

“No, that’s not what I’m saying-” 

“So let me help, let me be yours” he pleads. You don’t respond—you can’t. Each explanation you formulate sticks to the roof of your mouth and swells like a spell drunk in your throat. Ajax tenses, clinging to your skin. He reflects on a thought, and it blooms with a twinkle. 

“What if I just...lock you up?” 

“...What?” you say, hardly above a whisper. It’s arid to swallow, and shivers ripple under sweltering heat prickling your limbs. 

“I wouldn’t put you anywhere bad. It’d be a pretty place; I’ll take good care of you like I always do. Wouldn’t you like that?” He has a hopeful grin on his face, and when he lets you go for a second you jerk away from his reach. Your back hits the opposite wall, nauseous and lightheaded, shaking your head aggressively to push away the existence of the idea. He wrenches his neck, and you glimpse the deluded flush on his face. “No... I’m not gonna do that.” 

“Ah, sweetheart, I know it sounds scary. Can we try it first?”  

“You’re not gonna put me in some fucking cage like an animal” you assert. His eyebrows furrow, offended at your assumption that he’d trap you somewhere unpleasant. 

“I’d never do that to you. I love you.” He inches towards you, and you inch farther. The keys are in front of him, you can’t leave on your own. The steps you take feel critical. 

“Let’s sleep on it, we can discuss in the morning.” No. No no no no. You pan to the staircase, and Ajax curiously watches your paranoid glances. Before he can grab you, you sprint for the stairs. Wind travels in your ears and settles at your graceless movement catching hold of the banister, leverage used to leap. Adrenaline flows steadily in your veins, and your senses feel muddled to mush, focused on pushing your legs to proceed. There’s no room for thinking past the will of your body. You hear airy tsks coming from the dining room, and a singsong “Don’t make me chase you, baby.” 

Suddenly, the creaking floorboards succeed at a roaring parade marching behind you. Closer and closer, a sound you didn’t know he possessed. You don’t dare turn around; the squeak waltzes with your deafening heartbeat. You change direction, making haste to the peaceful bedroom you share, now eroding under his hearty stomps. You clash with the door, and barge in. Slamming it shut, your shaky hands promptly lock the knob. Ajax stops in front of the door and lets his fingertips dance along the wood, “Open the door, please.” 

The knob shakes aggressively, rattling in the socket and threatening to pop. It’s pulling against the edges of the door that rive at his harsh yanks. He perpetually pulls and twists it, “Darling, c’mon open the door, my sweet.” You’re sure if you don’t, he’ll axe his way through instead.  

“Please let me in, baby. Please, I’m dying without you.” 

“I don’t wanna fight anymore... please”, his tone barely lifts above the depth of wood, but you hear the faulty voice keeling in cracks. You know you shouldn’t open the door, but his sorrow beckons you as it often does. He wails so hopelessly, as if you’re punishing him for an unavoidable inevitable. It’s an innocent sob peerless to the ruthless violence he displayed hours before; the harrowing glare of the man you thought you knew was all too terrifying. But he’d never do that to you, would he? You’re his darling sweetheart, his infinity now and forever. You filled his divergent heart and sutured it anew. He needs you.  

Though your hands fidget to stay at their sides from common sense tucked in a forgone crevice of your headache, you force your hand up, and turn the knob. Maybe you should’ve never let him into the shop on that cold night, instead bidding him farewell and trudging in the snow to your crumby apartment. You’d continue running the shop as usual with Lyney. Things would’ve been different, wouldn’t have been so complicated to cut loose from tangling lies knotting the more he consumed you.  

But no, that couldn’t have happened. He would find you, it’s destiny that you’d never part. Stalking in bushes and narrow alleyways until the perfect moment he could walk towards you and catch your eye again, and you’d fall for another pass of courting words.  

Ajax stands there with sparkling sadness streaming down his cheeks that mingle with his quivering lips. He drops to his knees instantly in prayer and looks up at you with doey puffy eye bags that nearly make you overlook everything, about Zhongli, about the red flags that grow green the more you squint. It’s just you and him, that’s all it had to be. In times like these you reminisce about the sweet boy you cuddled and confided in, and things feel as they were. The messy-haired Ajax you remember pulls your lower half close to him with large hands that latch onto your waist the more you adjust. His face is mushed to merging in your stomach, and he sighs heavily, taking in your scent like the last breath he’ll ever have. They snake around you, and you meet eyes again. “I don’t want you to be afraid of me. I love you angel. So much I’d rip my heart out and put it in your hands…. you control me” Desperation clings to Ajax, and you urge to console him. You intertwine your fingers through his hair. 

“Ajax, this can’t happen again. Okay?” you caution, a warning dripping with compassion. 

“Mhm. Okay.” Unexpected warmth blooms over his cold aura, but the light doesn’t reach his eyes. His hands travel the contours of your hips and thighs, occasionally squeezing with an appreciative huff. He parts your legs and dips to your inner thighs to mold the doughy fat as his lips traverse your lower abdomen, decorating it with wanton kisses. “Love you so much” he utters. His touch is impassioned and fluid, he softens underneath your bottom and circles his thumb like a masseur. Ajax takes his time navigating your sensitive points, and switches between fluffy and solid pressure that licks down your back.  Skin to skin contact wasn’t enough, he wanted to crawl in your ribcage and live in your lungs so he could sense your steady breaths. He wanted to bask in your existence, feel the radiance of your touch and ethereal voice curl and melt into him, to make him nothing and all in your eyes. 

Your digits tangle in his hair, and when he nips your tummy, you tug his scalp. “Fuck” Ajax groans, strained through his lips. The peachy wash draping his cheeks is cherubic, appeased by the rhythmic kneading. One hand slinks under your shirt and guides a fingertip vertically on your spine, the other sculpts your rear. It’s dizzying how easy it is for Ajax to captivate you, a trance that turns your knees to jelly and leaves you at his mercy. You ignored the impulse igniting your muscles to push him off. You want him closer, suffocating you so deep the clouds of his scent dismantle your fear. You take his chin and redirect his attention, and he waits for order like a loyal dog.  

“Ajax.” 

“Whatever you want, princess” he toys, that boyish simper releasing butterflies through your body. 

“I want you.” He hoists you up without a word and carries you to the bed. He brings you down, a priceless vase above the pillowy cushioned bedding. “You comfortable?” You nod, blushing from the way Ajax gawks at your half-hiked shirt, and shorts hanging low on your hips. “Good.” He’s breathless, restraining his impulse to pounce and devour you. No matter how restive he was, Ajax usually prevented himself from indulging beyond your comfort; but tonight is different. It's starving while a succulent meal taunts you, only satiated by the sight of it. He hastily removes his shirt and pants, freckled muscles flexing as he discards them to the floor. It’s hard to avoid the growing spot staining his stretched white briefs. Spreading your legs, he crawls between them. He regards you for a second, but when you reach behind his head he plunges into a longing kiss.  

A longing kiss followed by hungrier ones. It’s abruptly rough and needy against your bruising lips, some skimming the corner of your mouth and tracking to the main course. He frees you for a breather, but the space doesn’t subdue the dull ache thrumming in your core. His nose brushes against yours, and you pull his flyaways back to get the full scale of his feral demeanor, sweating and reddening in the unshakable heat.  

You collide again, hands behind your head through the wild exchange. You can’t keep up; he bites your bottom lip and relieves it with the glide of his tongue. Your slow and steady lover begs for entry with a ravenous push, and you allow it to ruin you. The wet appendage invades your senses, explores your mouth in nonsensical shapes and withdraws with a filthy sound before returning. “So. Fucking. Good” he exhales through your intertwining tongues. You’re moaning into each other, lasting in the moment, forgetting everything. His hips start to grind against you, practically dry humping your clothed lower half. You wrap your legs around him and steer his twitching length to roll into you, nudging the inseam of your shorts to your neglected clit. He engulfs your moans, and retreats with strings of spit connecting your tumid lips. 

Ajax descends to your neck, and places damp and eager kisses along it. You feel the piercing remnant of a bite accompanied by sucking. His fangs pinch and snag and make you whimper. A budding purple and blue blend blotches to your collarbone--draining you like a vampire. His hands stay busy committing your curves to memory in greedy gropes. Ajax doesn’t notice his low rambling, “yea, you’d never leave me, right? I’m all you need”, to “you're mine.” It’s overstimulating, and so is the hammering pulse in your clit.  

Your abused neck is exposed to the delicious sweep of cold air, and he hurries to your shirt. In one swoop, it comes off with the impatient unclasp of your bra. He submerges a stiff peak in warmth while he works the other. His tongue swirls around the nipple, pushing in with a stiff tip and trading it for sucking. It elicits a moan where teeth graze and tweak the bud. “My pretty girl” he murmurs and delivers attention to the next. Ajax massages your spit-soaked tits firmly and diligently in fondling motions. His passion renders him shameless, and it encourages you to fold. You find yourself swerving your hips to his bulge to goad his thirst. He responds with languid nudging, and glances at the space inside your shorts, coated with slick film from your panties. Whine caught in his throat, he salivates and unconciously holds your legs apart. You impel him downwards, and he nuzzles the line to the hem of your shorts.  

“Can I taste you, princess?” It had to be hypothetical, since he was already unbuttoning them with his teeth and tearing them off. “Please?” he pants, a half-lidded mess itching to immerse in your desire. Before you can answer, a rrrip shreds through the room; the culprit of your mangled underwear remains, and you shriek. “Ajax!” you scold, but he’s not bothered when he rips the rest of it to display your arousal. “I’ll get you new ones, I’ll buy you the whole store” he sighs, forcing your thighs rearwards with his hands. He angles himself like a sniper and submerses in your pussy. 

Ajax doesn’t rush, he lazily trails his tongue around the outside and plays with the folds shlicking against him. He outlines the clit and meticulously weaves his skillful tongue, caring for the spots that make your back arch; paying special attention to your entrance, as he teasingly delves in just enough to coax a moan, then laps a flat tongue over your wetness. Ajax’s  ministrations are torturous, rapturing all while ignoring your release. He parts the labia and plashes the juices covering his chin and glossy lips. Your heart is in your ears, winding and coiling at the flicks of his tongue, his fingertips forging red indents on your thighs. Ajax begins to rock himself into the mattress, a fleeting friction comforting his sore erection. His leisurely grinding matches the pace of his mouth making out with your pussy. Mmmf he groans, and the vibrations oscillate. He gently slurps your lips, gasping for another mouthful and lapping at your clit. Your back levitates, and you tug his scalp. It only earns another growl, and faster swipes over the sensitive bud. 

“O-oh fuck” you moan, watching Ajax lose his composure and rut himself into the bed like an animal. He’s panting with a quiver, whimpering some rendition of your name until he sputters. He jolts from the material emptying his balls and soaking the sheets, but his energy doesn’t deplete—It seems to motivate him as he hoists you to his mouth. Ajax always prioritizes your pleasure, but it’s difficult to stop him once he’s invested. And he isn’t done feasting, sloppily eating you up with little concern for your fluttering senses. He rides out his orgasm and brings you to yours, and you hardly realize the intoxicating slide over your clit spelling his name. Ajax, Ajax, Ajax, marked into you; It brings you to a chant as you come undone. Ajax doesn’t waste a drop, avidly cleaning up the juices pulsating out. “Thank you, fuck, thank you so much” he whispers. He swills the bud, and you spasm and squirm from ecstasy in his iron grip. “Ajax, p-please.” 

“I got you.” He gives one last French kiss before exiting tranquility. A combination of spit and arousal blankets his mouth, and he smiles like the happiest man alive. “You okay?” Not a thought in fruition, tender mellowness smothering you. You wince from the prolonged position, and he immediately puts you on your side.  

“Need to feel you.” He wrings his underwear down, and reveals his pulsing shaft adorned with beads of come dribbling down the rosy pale tip. He’s above you, trapping one leg over his shoulder, and aligns himself with your sex. “Perfect tits, perfect pussy. You’re so beautiful, all for me.” The bulb slips in effortlessly, and he sighs at the muscle clenching around him. Each inch drives seamlessly into you, stretching your unadjusted frame. He lulls on your ankle, absorbed by the coziness enveloping the base until he bottoms out. Then it’s unmoving. Agonizing, even, the way you feel him twitch inside. “Y-you can move now.” 

“Let’s just stay like this for a little.” He rubs your leg, savoring the serene patter of rain smacking the wide windows and toasty light dusting your dazed appearance. It’s intimate and placid minus the rise and fall of your bodies, and you’re surprisingly shy. You rush to cover your face, but Ajax grabs you. “Don't hide, pretty girl. You’re stunning” he flirts, kissing your hand. 

“Do you love me?” His blinks are exaggerated, confused that you’d ask such an obvious question. 

“Of course.” 

“What do you love about us?” He brings your hand to his cheek. “You complete me. You’ve forgiven me, loved me, and accepted me for who I am. I can be open around you.” He kisses your wrist, silken as to quell the trivial thoughts resurfacing. 

“I’ll love you until the end. I’ll find you in the next life and start all over, even when this universe collapses. I won’t let anyone get in our way, so love me forever.” Ajax pulls out to the tip, and you whine at the loss of wholeness. Then, he drives his sticky cock unhurriedly to the hilt. You mewl, and he palms your chest. “Shh, ‘s okay.” The milky translucent trail links you and erupts obscene syrupy noises. “What are you thinking for baby names?” You can’t focus, the swinging strokes graze your g-spot. You’d say anything to him at this point; you need him deeper. He casually thumbs your clit and continues at a sluggish tempo. “I really like the name Aleksei” In and out, veins embellishing your walls. You meet his thrusts and shudder, though he stops occasionally to redirect the sopping length. 

“A-ahn, you’re so wet, it keeps slipping out” he moans. He picks up the speed, squelching stirring with whimpers. “I love you, honeypot. Sosososo fucking much, just wanna breed this pretty pussy every second of the day. Ah- you wanna be a mommy, yeah? We can have a big family, hah, just you me and the kids. Wouldn’t you like that, darling?” He’s drilling into you, stuffed to bursting. You feel yourself approaching and seize his wrist. “’M close!” 

“Give it to me, fuck, please” Ajax whines, and you climax under him, juices saturating his balls. You don’t get time to recover; he fucks you through your orgasm. You’re reeling, clawing at his forearm when he puts you flat on your back. “Wanna come inside. Can I, please? I want it so bad” he pleads. He adjusts you to a mating press with brute force, and plummets inside.  

It’s vicious, staggering plap’s and squelching audible from outside. The headboard bangs on the wall while he pummels your pussy. A sheen of lust shrouds his eyes, and his heavy balls smack against your ass as he wrecks you. More, more, more drowns him in senseless fucking, precome frothing at the base. You convulse around him, and he burrows full throttle. When his tongue finds yours, you interweave through the sloppy pumps. His balls tighten, and he chases his high frenetically bobbing. “O-oh, fuck, you’re gonna make me come.” Harsher, meaner strokes hit you quick, and Ajax melts into endless whimpers striking his climax. Ropes of thick white paint your insides, teeming to globs where they crowd your pussy and leak to your ass. Ajax bucks into you, and you milk him dry. The shakes eventually stop, and he goes limp on top of you. You feel him softening, his steady inhale. He smiles at you, showering you with affection you couldn’t resist.  

“I should use the bathroom” you suggest, patting his back as a signal to get off. “Sure. Wait here, I’ll get you cleaned up.” He returns after an eternity, with cloudy water and a tepid towel. 

“Here, drink this.” You take the cup and sip. Ajax tips it a bit, urging you to gulp. He wipes you down lovingly while you swallow the contents. He disregards your vulva, however, collecting the come on his fingers and pushing it in. Oddly, you’re leaden—insanely leaden, so much so that your head tilts to one side and threatens to give up entirely. Your knees are wobbly, and your bones are lost in a dreamlike state. Ajax passes the towel under your chest.  

“You know, I didn’t feel bad about it, when I strung his guts across the wall. I only thought of you.”  

No. It can’t be true. 

You can’t scream or fight, and simply gape at the words hulking through your numbed rationale. The towel cools your sweat, but the fear persists.  

“I met him behind your complex. He was bitching about rent, sleazy fucking scum. I asked him if you live there, and he went on a rant about it. Saying nasty stuff no one should ever say about you. I couldn't help it, (Y/N), I had to see his organs carved out of his body.” Your jackhammering heart doesn’t compare to your sloth behavior. You want to run, move in with your parents again and pretend; pretend like your life hasn’t been propelled into disarray, pretend that the ginger boy caressing your face didn’t butcher a man.  

“Ajax, let me go” you cried, a teardrop coursing across your temple. He wipes it, “I’m not holding you, dear. You can’t stand on your own right now, but the effect will wear off after you sleep. Rest for now, okay sweetie?” 

“What did you put...in my...” You’re swooning, ferried by the effect of the unknown medicine sprinkled in your cup. With no will to combat, your eyes reluctantly close. His pupils are desolate and obscure, the night of a severe blizzard. 

“I’m sorry, but I won’t make the same mistake twice.” 

tags: @zhochikennugget (if anyone else would like to be tagged, dm and i'll tag you on the next one :)

[shatteredstarsart]

Things the new LMK animation studio, Wildbrain, could work on for the new upcoming season and season after:

1) Dont use flash animation style as a crutch, flash works with daily life shows, not so much with action/adventure cartoons. It makes it look like a content farm and we arent about that. Especially characters eyebrows, thats definitely a hand drawn thing to do for this.

2) Dont be afraid to play with the characters limb sizes. There's a lot of stretching and squishing with the characters, despite them being literal LEGOs, thats what makes the 2D animation for thus show great, you can break the LEGO figurine rules in the real world.

3) Dont be afraid to test out new things, Flying Bark did it all the time, with thier flashback sequences they often took inspiration from Chinese ink paintings

4) When designing new characters, dont directly take from the figurines LEGO gives you, use creative liberties and change certain aspects of the design from the figures. As much as I like complicated designs, I found in the actual show, the simpler you can make it while still making it feel complex makes it look good

5) Flying Bark used a 50% White overlay layer for the irises for all the characters, including Wukong and Macaque, it makes thier eyes look more alive, which i noticed Macaque was lacking in. Along with make making the irises and eyes slightly bigger, which i noticed Nezha (and what I assume in Erlang Shen) consistently had these weird inconsistencies compared to the other characters in the entire trailer

6) Use interesting camera angles, I guess this advice is more for the storyboarders of the studio, since thier job is to make the layouts and camera angles. Whenever there's a fight in the show it typically gave you an interesting way to look at it depending on what was going on, like for the Corrupted Wukong and Macaque fight in season 3, they were constantly going between being far away and up close to thier faces, depending how tense the moment was, the more tense, the closer you wanna be.

7) Try your best. LMK fans are quite picky, especially sense we've always held these high expectations from the show. I know the first season animation style was ... a little weird but its only gotten better from there. LMK fans may be brash at first, especially since we're all kind of miffed about having little to no news for the show to suddenly it could possibly be airing in a month and the studio we loved and adored said they are no longer working on it anymore. Im sure as time moves on you'll get better, but God please, move away from flash animation as if your life depends on it, it really only limits the ability of the show to tell its visual story as flash animation has so many limitations, especially for the genre

-yours truly, Monkie Kid fans <3

[starkkawajiri]

im feeling better and i had a brilliant brilliant genius idea scoob. (EXPLANATION BELOW)

okay class what was the author trying to say

fatui harbinger au. SHOCKED EMOJI

sub-au. an AU of an AU (marvel impact) because three things happened to cross paths in my big empty mind:

1. "man i would love an evil stephen au"

2. "man i need to draw genshin mordo"

and 3. "i love the harbingers" and when the idea lit up like a flame in my brain i exploded out of bed

this au consists of the best magic users ever being fatui harbingers (rip traveler) because evil hot and crazy sexy, instead of adding more harbingers they replace already existing ones because one two three enough fatui for me

so basically evil evil magic users au

((before moving on for ppl that do play genshin but dont know much about the fatui harbingers, there's 11 of them and they're ranked based on strength, personally i wouldnt even know how to scale them based on their powers so i didnt touch the ranks, just switched out the characters))

NOW EXPLAINING EACH OF THEM IN ORDER OF THEIR 'RANK' starting with lowkey

Loki is pretty self explanatory, he takes The Tsaritsa's place because cryo archon.... ice...god.....

i was initially planning on making loki take scaramouche's place because i found scara's "YOU'RE INTERRUPTING A CONVERSATION BETWEEN GODS......" dialogue in the sumeru quest so funny and because the idea of loki being a fake-god seemed cool, but her as the cryo archon and overall leader of the fatui was too good to put aside

IMPORTANT NOTE/EDIT: NVM YALL LMFAOOOO I DECIDED (iwas MANIPULATED /j /aimed) TO CHANGE LOKI BACK TO TAKING SCARAMOUCHE'S PLACE there's a lot more things they have in common and it sets an interesting dynamic between him and other characters in this au, including thor ("better version of him"), strange (using loki as a vessel to create a god) etc

Wong's the baddest bitch in this post theres no other explanation

im (half)joking (hes so fine) theres an explanation

it was between that and making him take Il Capitano's place, which would have been Rank 1, and he would have still ranked higher than everyone else (besides Loki) so i looked at their wikis .

The Director (Pierro) handpicked certain Harbingers, two of which being Il Dottore and La Signora (in this au, Strange and Wanda) so that was just the stars aligning for this au

Strange's gotta be even more self-explanatory than Loki's

il dottore. the doctor.

need i say more (no but i will)

i need at least 34084 aus of this man being evil idk i cant control myself

Sufian and Zandik (Dottore) already had a lot in common or parallel in the marvel impact au, both expelled students from the Akademiya, positive/negative relations with the dendro archon, man kissers, insert il dottore wiki

i want him to be scary and feared now and then, is that too much for a man to want from another man (rip eleazar patients)

clea had to be arlecchino/the knave because. because

clea in a suit primary excuse

arlecchino's cool hair secondary excuse

woman kisser back-up excuse

theres little to no explanation here i just sensed it spiritually (arlecchino is the best ily arlecchino) + the theory about arlecchino being half-hilichurl?? or something like that? because of the cool gradient on her skin, which is rlly awesome, so non-human bonus points

need more insane, cold, calculated, manipulative, insane, insane, deceiving, insane women sometimes

mordo he exists hes here save me mordo

im gonna be so fr with you guys rn

pulcinella is just there, i forget he exists often times

only mordo can fix that

after deciding on making Wong the Director, i considered making Mordo take Il Capitano's place or Pantalone's/The Regrator's, but i was really really unsure, he didn't seem to fit either of them and by making him take the Regrator's place I would be putting him in a rank that is wayy too low (9) and considering how little there is about Pulcinella (literally almost nothing), I would have a lot of creative freedom

wanda had to be one of the easiest to sort out....la signora..... alternatively "crimson witch".......? come on they forced my hand atp

im so sorry red bisexual i didnt want you to get such a low rank (8) i had no other choice

la signora is such a badass im tired of pretending shes not (+her Crimson Witch form is amazing)

consumed by grief and anguish, destroying themselves in the process? they twin

fandom theories about their resurrection? they twin

that was it i love being normal about any interest i have . ever

[piviani]

enha thoughts about bite me and its controversy

( disclaimer: please do remember to take my readings with a grain of salt. i am in no way a professional tarot reader and all of this are alleged and is for entertainment purposes only. )

part two of the reading

what jungwon thinks of its choreo

the hierophant

from what i see i dont think jungwon cares about what choreography bite me has tbh. jungwon is a type of person whos a follower. whatever the authority might say he just follows it (atleast in certain occurrences) as he already see it something that is already set and cannot be changed. this doesn’t automatically apply to other situations though, jungwon has certain beliefs he solely believes too. so! i dont think jungwon cared about it that much and just followed what the company wants regardless.

what jungwon feels about its controversy

the lovers

pulled lovers for jungwon and i can say this is so terrifying yet amazing at the same time actually. i took the card back at first because i felt that it wasn’t quite right and continued to shuffle once again.. however to my suprise i pulled the lovers.. again. so anyways before i actually explain regarding of what jungwon feels about the controversy going on around. im gonna need to ass a little bit of background check, there are 22 major arcanas in a deck, and these two specifically are next to each other. hierophant being the #5 and the lovers being the #6 among the 22 major arcanas, isn’t it fascinating? from what i think it shows how jungwons perspective changed after hearing the controversy in a way, where it transitioned after the controversy. like this is abit funny i actually cackled because i think jungwons loving it now lmfao i dont know? hes enjoying this which i do Not know Why. one thing for sure though i dont think jungwon is focusing too much on the negativity. publicity is still publicity.

what heeseung thinks of its choreo

the magician

heeseung feels their choreography has gone creative! he thinks this will open new doors to enter for him so hes trying not missing any possibilities. he has so much will! im seeing heeseung trusted and put lots of efforts for this choreography.

what heeseung feels about its controversy

five of cups in reverse

kinda sad how situations change after the controversy but this is kind of great as it is in reverse tbh. from what the card shows, its admitting how heeseung used to feel saddened about the situation, but its not all that, it was like the situation only revolved around negativity atleast for heeseung (when in fact it was only through domestically.) but anyways! okay this is 5oCr so heeseung is in the state of where he already moved past it and now feels more light than he ever was. the situation really saddened him but atleast to what i see, it made him feel the state of realization. hes not caring about it as he used to.

what jay thinks of its choreography

king of swords

jay thought that authorities has certain standards that is high and this includes their choreography. ouuu jay felt stern throughout. “mind over matter and the head over the heart.” its implying what or how jay felt. its showing how he took the responsibility.. jay really didn’t know what he felt about it. tbh the cards are not giving me a clear answer. its just showing how jay just prepared and remained compoosed with what’s about to come as he thought about it logically already . (seems like he already saw it coming) self assured he wasn’t really thinking about it in an emotional way. just practiced what dance choreo was shown, sighed, and moved on fr

what jay feels about its controversy

page of pentacles in reverse

oh jay feels like its backing out their bags and their opportunities away. jay feels like this whole situation is so dumb lmao this is so direct i actually believe jay wants everyone to know how he feels about the controversy. it indicates how jay feels this whole thing screams immature and he does not like it. he feels people lacks brains hes starting to lose sight of what other people thinks (omg i would be pissed if i cant have my bag too) he should not lose focus though! as card shown, hes starting to feel overwhelmed by it.

[ part two of the reading. ]

[ reading was done at June 3, 2023. ]

[castlebyersafterdark]

Or waking him up with a hand already on his cock, or mouth around him.

Ok this is something ive vaguely wondered about for a long time and never known how to broach cos im sure most people will say it's Just Fantasy. i see this somno idea presented in extreme ways and more casual, like this one you mentioned. im curious about it because my initial reaction on seeing this hc was - is this based on people's real experiences, or fantasies alone, or just hcs for the boys/fictional characters? or all? because issues of consent become a bit grey here. maybe im just thinking of women's experiences and how women's discomfort can be minimized in pop culture. perhaps its different in your experience, as a gay man or in gay culture.

i kind of get icky when i see people throwing the need for constant blatant verbal consent around because post-weinstein we've lost a lot of the sexiness and complicity of non-verbal communication and consent in sex. but my brain always thinks of those cases where the guy doesnt think its even possible to rape a girl if theyre married or in a relationship. so anything goes, and yes and no blur. ofc mike and will are in a loving relationship, but what happens if one of them wakes up and feels a bit weird about it, totally not in the mood or just had a totally different sleep experience and is thrown for a loop because the other has a mouth around them? would they always be able to recover and just say no and separate (physically) and be fine? im not sure.

idk its such a tricky one. maybe with byler theyve had conversations before where they're like its always ok to wake me up with a bj lol

This is a good one and I wondered if the question would ever come up because I know it's a controversial sex act / kink! Definitely onto something with some of it being in the realm of fantasy - but it is realistic for a lot of people as well. I'll offer my own perspective under the cut at the end like I usually do when I get too embarrassingly tmi/personal haha. But it's hard to explain this particular one without a real life perspective.

The consent aspect is a big part and one that's incredibly important in real life - but I'll personally admit when it comes to fanfic or just a simple HC post, there are certain aspects of fictional sex lives I just choose to gloss over and/or leave out. Because it is a bit of a fantasy world and a lot of assumptions are made. (Do yall know how many asks I get requesting details and preferences on the intricacies of anal sex prep? Yall. Suspension of disbelief. There's so many advice and sexual health articles out there to read up on if you're so curious, it's... implied. No offense to the curious mind, I appreciate the genuine approach, but I ain't including all that in a fic hahaha. ANYWAY)

i kind of get icky when i see people throwing the need for constant blatant verbal consent around because post-weinstein we've lost a lot of the sexiness and complicity of non-verbal communication and consent in sex.

I know exactly what you mean. And I don't know what goes on in most people's real sex lives, but in fanfic world, there can sometimes be a sort of "over-correction" when it comes to the way dialogue and consent is written. You just... gotta make it sound natural. So much reads like a sex ed pamphlet. There's a way to add consent and communication into the flow rather than a pause to deliver a PSA. Easier said that done, I know. It's important, but we don't have to treat what is fantasy and playing around with creativity as a manual for education every time. Real life... isn't A,B,C dialogue choices. Hard to explain, you know??? This isn't covering all the extreme kink explorations and all - which I don't really write so I'm not diving into that. There's an entirely different world out there regarding bdsm but it's not my world so I have little to offer in terms of conversation. As well as the cnc kink which is a whole other ballpark. Valid, but not the topic I'm including with this. This is more of a "light" version.

Gosh. Ok. Here is personal insight which kind of informs how I approach the topic of something like consent and especially a somno style sex act in realistic practice:

It definitely is very personality based - communication, trust, sex drive, what both partners are into. Goes along with the idea of "natural flow of conversation and sex" and really knowing your partner. So. We both know we're very comfortable with each other's bodies and in a well established relationship - we know each other's moods. This isn't something that's happening every day! Or even every week! An occasional indulgence. It's intimate, sharing a bed with someone long term. If you or your partner goes to bed exhausted or a bit upset or off-kilter from the day, feeling sick or just in an odd mood - obviously life just goes about normally. There are times though, when let's say... the night ended after a lot of sex, just a really intimate time and drifting off to sleep from a really passionate session and you know. Continuing in the next morning isn't hmm. Out of the ordinary. The vibes linger from falling asleep into waking again. It's hard to describe - sometimes blatantly spoken in the heat of passion when it's so good and you're still feeling greedy even before it's over ("I'd love to wake up to you fucking me") or something crazy. Or, you just know you'd both go another round before bed if you weren't so tired, so you pass out but whoever wakes up first may just get a head start and continue.

It's... a lot of just knowing your partner. Feeling comfortable to know if you wake up and oh, that's happening and you're not into it? You can just say "babe, I kinda want to just go back to sleep" and you know they'll ease off and let you be. Or, you wake up to a nice surprise and it's a shock at first, but you then relax and let it happen, or vice versa doing something to them. More often it's one of those instances more where you both wake up, very in the stirring strings of half awake, half asleep, and one partner is a little more awake and has the idea. And the half asleep one is like, oh? Sure! I'm just gonna drift though, you have fun. Go to town. It can be like that, too. This all feels very normal and within the flow of an established couple with a pretty active sex life. Just in my opinion.

I've read a lot of sex forums and kink forums because I'm curious about a lot of things! And sex is interesting to me beyond just titillation (using that one for another anon who adores the word haha), sometimes it's just fascinating research. I've read a lot of instances specifically with women, some are actually really into the practice and find it really hot to wake up to their partner either going down on them or starting to fuck them, when they're still sleeping. After conversations about it - there's the consent talk. Now, proceed. They'll wear a specific hair tie or bracelet when they go to sleep, signalling that they're looking for this sex act to happen if so desired. That's the communication, that's the greenlight. No bracelet - no touchy. I don't really practice anything like that because it's not like this is something we do often. It's an offhand comment, it's reading the vibe, it's the half asleep fumblings on a morning lie-in when one partner wakes up with the urge. So, all in all - there are different forms of communications rather than just sitting down the edge of the bed and turning to each other and blatantly spelling out every detail and shaking hands at the end before engaging with the session.

I know there are relationships that are very how do I say it - lifestyle kinksters? Where the master/sub (I don't like the other S word to be honest) have an agreement for whatever period of time is decided upon - where there's a "free use" understanding. They've consented to the initiation of sex whenever. Often including while asleep or half-asleep. But that's also an agreed upon form of consent where it's not long form discussed previous to each encounter. That's lifestyle kink, though. Not most people. Realistically, it's more... trust and understanding of who you're sharing your bed with. Are they into it? Can you tell when they won't be? There's no real rule book.

So when it comes it fiction - I think the idea is kind of implied it's a bit like what I've personally described? Even if not really detailed in the written prose. Not that consent isn't interesting or important - but at least my writing and the writing I like to read - I'm not looking for hyper-realism or education. And there's also great worth in reading/writing some stuff that's more controversial or not perfected romance - I just don't really dive into that myself. I'm very sappy romance and idealistic, to be honest. Just what I'm good at and prefer. ☺️😘

[mxxny-lupin]

Request guidelines

[status: Open for blood of zeus request]

alright sluts (love y'all sm):

let's go over a few ground rules

[PLEASE READ BEFORE SUBMITTING ANY REQUESTS]

first things first: hi, i love You. thank you for even wanting to share your idea with me, and trusting me with it.

secondly: please be patient with me. i may not get to your request right away or at all, so please don't take that personally. im a human bean just like you with a life and a job, and sometimes i get writers block, and the creative juices just won't flow. not all requests spark something in my head

things i will not write:

something similar to a request i've written before or a request i can see has been done by another writer (don't send a bunch of us the same prompt to see who can get to it first, that's a dick move) requests for characters i don't normally write for and don't think i can do justice (i will redirect you to a blog that does write for that specific character in that case)

anything offensive, nonconsensual, involving an underage character, certain dark themes, incest unless its hotd, or anything that just gives me the ick (even whores have their limits ok)

who/what i will write for:

marvel, marauders, dc, hazbin hotel, bg3, avatar, spn, mha and many more

if there is a character you have in mind that i haven't written for yet, it doesn't hurt to ask! your request does not have to be hetero. you can be as gay as you want! i am perfectly fine writing queer fics! i'd actually love to write more! i'm also totally fine with writing for all races/ genders/whatever floats your boat! this is your request. i want to tailor it to you specifically

rules for smut/p.links:

there has been an influx of minors on here lately, so from now on, i will not be accepting anonymous requests for smut this is an 18+ blog, so you shouldn't even be interacting if you're underage if you want something spicy, you have to come off anon. i need to be able to confirm your age somehow

submission guidelines:

please include as much info as possible for your request and be specific! i need to know if you want a blurb, p.links, headcannon, etc. please include your pronouns & the pronouns you want used in your request! please be kind & patient! if I can tell that you haven't read any of these guidelines and have disregarded all the ground rules i've laid out, i'm just gonna delete your request. don't be that asshole i will do my best to get as close to your request as possible. if it is a topic i do not have a lot of familiarity with, i may reach out to you for more details. again, this is for you! i want it to be exactly what you want

if you've made it this far and you're still reading, thank you. i love you.

[hexhomos]

do you have any advice on creating for a fandom where the target audience is super small? i published my first jv fanwork the other day and although i obviously dont just do it for compliments/attention, im hesitant about continuing to create because it feels discouraging to be the only one interested in what i have to offer if that makes sense. i feel like leaguefic is not in demand at all in comparison to arcane and im not sure how to motivate myself… i love your work, thank you so much

To be perfectly honest, not bullshitting you at all here: I don't think there is a single-person fix for this. I have a share/discussion based brain and i generally thrive when doing most of my work within, at least, a private active community. A lot of times my motivation *for* finishing a complex painting or polishing up 10k+ words of something is that i want to be able to show other people what i see and what i like about certain things. Without that community aspect, i just tend to keep to myself and never evolve past drafts lol

Making art is hard. Especially if you have some sort of affective or emotional attachment to the subject. I think a couple years ago it wasn't so tasking, or at least it didn't feel so lonely, because fandoms tended to be more willing to leave indepth feedback or engage with things they liked on a daily basis -- but the culture of 'fast consumption' 'content mills' and 'neverending generated content' of the present decade has taught a lot of people to undervalue the work that goes into transformative projects.

This is why nowadays we see so many frequent calls reminding people to comment in fic, or actually hit the reblog button on some art they like, or even try to use long tags to express what they feel. The 'neverending content influx' marketing push has rendered broader audiences (and im including myself here, i'm not perfect) more apathetic, and more wiling to silently pass by things without a word, prioritizing the 'consumption' of 'large masses of content' rather than curiosity or engaging with a single thing for large amounts of time.

the TL;DR is that I don't think this is something you can fix on your own. It's an environmental issue. When I write, I'm doing so with the confidence that at least one person is really going to engage with it. (this can be a friend, or another internet person similarly lost in the digital desert, it varies.) The only way to rejuvenate a fandom ecosystem is to remind people to *try to give a tiny piece of their time* back to artists whose work they love, appreciate, or even mildly enjoy. It doesn't have to be HUGE extensive feedback everytime. If something made you chuckle for even a second, just try telling that to the person who made it. If you enjoyed reading something, or were amused by how someone wrote your favorite character, go tell them! right now! Try doing it a little bit of that every day! If everyone who sees this post went out right now to leave a word for a small creative they enjoy, we already would be so much better off. Communities are like orchid gardens; to get the special, unique, blooming flowers, you need a steady hand caring for them. We are all gardeners.

[mitskook]

a very mitskook 2023 wrap-up

hi everyone

so i didn't write very much in 2023, that much is apparent. now i'm not gonna sit here act like that's a massive loss considering the vast amount of extremely talented writers that produced wonderful work this year, but i am still disappointed in myself from, i guess, a labour of love perspective. i look at the work i have contributed to the fandom over the years and i still have more i want to add, more stories i want to tell (trust me the wip folder makes me weep too).

but every time i wanted to write, the idea of making a love story made me so miserable i had to scrub it from my head. and worse, when i pushed past that obvious discomfort, the love in those stories soured into resentment, rage, and a cruelty i couldn't justify (to this audience at least). particularly with tsdverse, this next installment is about m'boys really grappling with conflicts that have no easy answers (if they have answers at all) and man am i so fucking glad i wrote that flashforward with heejin to keep a north star on where they would end up because if i hadn't, i would've completely shattered them in a misdirected fireball of righteous grief. im glad i had that to hold on to bc i haven't had much else.

my 2023 has been. uh. trying amongst the good stuff (and i promise there was some good stuff) but not this. my mum had a heart attack, i was fired for not coming back to work straight after her surgery, and i was couch surfing and unemployed for long enough i felt like i'd wrecked my life forever. and, of course, i was mourning my relationship that ended at the end of last year, and to be honest i'm still not done with that. that's the absolute joy and misery of tying your heart to someone you're hoping will be around forever: your eyes don't see anything the same anymore, certain songs that come on shuffle make you break down on the tube, you realise huge swathes of your social media presence, including ao3, were built for one person and it wasn't you, and now? all those things are monuments to the emptiness you feel every time you remember they're not in your life anymore.

to be extremely clear, i'm not blaming my ex for these feelings, and if anyone harasses them on my behalf i will personally hunt you down and gut you with a knitting needle, but in missing them as much as i do i realised how inextricable they were from my writing process. i mostly wrote fic to make them happy, to hear their praise and notes and excitement to read the rest, and that was unfair on everyone; me, them, and you (if you look forward to my work, i don't wanna presume lmao). that's too much pressure to put on someone who just wasn't interested in bangtan rpf anymore, and that's normal, it's okay to move on from that, but it meant even before the breakup i didn't know who i was doing it for anymore. that level of directionlessness (<- not a word but whatever) gummed up those creative gears until they had no choice but to stop.

anyway to maybe cap this pity party a bit, i want to start sharing my writing more on here, and i won't wait for people to clamour to let me know that that's wanted bc again, i need to start rebuilding my confidence in my writing and feeling out where i fit into this community after basically silently moping around for a full year. i want to sincerely thank everyone who's ever read my work. i won't promise to do anything but my best, and in the meantime i'll give all the snippets to you.

lots of love

zeeb "hyperlight" mitskook

[anchorandrope]

That includes Sweet Creature, a sweetly-strummed ode to a person that Styles won't disclose.. "The fun thing is, you can write a love song that's not always in the traditional sense - it doesn't always have to be romantic or even about a person at all, if you don't want," he said.

Do you know if this interview is true? I didn't find it anywhere until I found it on Google

hi!! i mean, that is what usatoday posted on may 12, 2017 about what harry "said" about sweet creature in the "The Zach Sang And The Gang Show" (x) that was published on may 3, 2017. You can listen to the entire interview, he didn't say that, at all...

that same interview was quoted in teen vogue, billboard, rolling stone (they deleted it but here's the article in web archive), and a lot of other popular magazines. and, as you can see, none of them use that quote.

i tried to find a transcription of the interview or quotes of UAs but i couldn't. so i decided to do it myself. the entire interview where harry styles talks about sweet creature for the first time ever below the cut! :)

one last comment before the interview: funny how they accuse us of using "questionable articles" when this situation proves totally the opposite. we say that sweet creature is about romantic love and certain people say its for his sister/mother/etc. the fact that somewhere there are people using that quote that he didn't even say to "prove" that its for gemma; proves us right lmao.

okay now the interview!! sorry im not a native english speaker soooo sorry if there's mistakes!!

Zach: Hello Harry Styles, what's going on man?

Harry: Hello! How are you?

Zach: I'm doing well. You're on with me. 

Harry: Good.

Zach: Zach Sang, Dan and Heather. 

Dan and Heather: Hi! 

Harry: Hello Dan and Heather. 

Heather: You said my name.

Zach: How are we feeling right now man? 

Harry: I'm very excited man, thanks for having me on. 

Zach: Of course.

Harry: I appreciate it.

Zach: Come on, Sweet Creature drops yesterday, Sign of the Times kicks off this new solo Harry Styles project. I mean this is exciting. This is creatively freeing.

Harry: What's exciting is that you called Sweet Creature, Sweet Creature because I spoke to someone earlier and they called it Smooth Criminal. 

Heather: [Laughs] What?

Zach: Are you kidding?

Harry: I'm not kidding.

Heather: That's not the right thing.

Harry: We're off to a good start. 

Zach: Dude, first of all, I am a big fan of yours for many years now. We worked together. I interviewed you guys as a band back in Nickelodeon years ago 

Harry: Yeah.

Zach: And you got me drunk at Meghan Trainor's party once. 

Harry: No I didn't.

Zach: You did. I was drinking too girly of a drink.

Harry: I didn't get you drunk at Meghan Trainor's party once. No way.

Heather: You got yourself drunk Zach. 

Zach: No. 

Harry: I don't drink.

Zach: [Jockingly] Never. Never. Okay, let's talk music. Seriously, this is very exciting because I think the art you're releasing, the world needs it. And I think our generation really needs it because we've been missing music with this type of message and with this type of sound. I genuinely believe that. So one, thank you.

Harry: I appreciate that. I am glad you're enjoying it. Yeah, I mean it's been very fun for me. It's been one of the best times of my life getting to make this and it's made me very happy to make. I think when I started it, I had no idea what it was going to sound like. And I just wanted to write stuff that I wanted to listen to and I'm really happy with where it's ended up and I'm really looking forward to getting to play it for people and being able to play these songs live and yeah, I'm very happy. 

Zach: Can you take us back to that first solo studio session? A creative team of your choosing, what is the song that you work on? What was the first song to tackle? 

Harry: The first song of the very first session, so I hadn't written for a while, and the first session that I did to start writing again for the album was actually Sweet Creature. So yeah, I mean I think I just, all I knew that I wanted to do was be honest and I didn't want to edit myself. I wanted to be honest and open and I feel like when you listen to the album through, I think you can see that and I think to me it's what makes it interesting to listen to. And it's why I am now proud of it.

Zach: Is there a top to bottom story through the entire album?

Harry: I think there's a few. I think more so than one story, I think it's very much a piece of me that I haven't shared or talked about before. So I think the album is very much a snapshot of me more so than it is about anyone else. But I think, like I said, I really didn't know what it was going to be when I started writing it and it finished in a very different place than it began. And I just had so much fun working out what it was that it was going to be the whole time. And that changing the whole time was really fun. And now I've ended up with something that I love listening to and proud of. I'm also, you know, found it very therapeutic to write and be vulnerable while writing. And I think if I'd made anything other than that, I would have been disappointed in myself.

Zach: Do you live life and then sit back and process what you just lived through and then write music? Do you write as you go? What is your style? 

Harry: I think it's kind of all of it. I think very much all of the above. I think sometimes, you know, sometimes stuff happens and it's pretty hard to process and a lot of stuff is easier to kind of think about much further down the line. And sometimes it's easier to literally get home from something that happened and sit down and write about it. I think it's so different. There's kind of all sides of the scale. You know, sometimes you sit down to write and what's the first thing you think about? Oh, it's something that happened to you four years ago that you hadn't thought about for a while. You know, I think it's really it's really amazing to to kind of just let that happen. I feel like it's very much it's often much easier to say something and talk about something to an instrument than it is to a person. And I found making this album incredibly therapeutic, getting to, you know, allow myself to be vulnerable and think about things that I hadn't thought about for a long time or things that I maybe had kind of tried to forget or not. Or, you know, I think just being open is always good. 

Zach: Was it nervous for you to be open and to go into the studio with, you know, your feelings literally on a paper or in a phone? 

Harry: Yeah, I think I was really lucky to find a group of people that that made me feel comfortable enough to do that. I don't think I wanted to do anything else with the album. I really wanted it, to be honest. And I was lucky enough to find a group of people who created an environment where I felt like I could just be vulnerable with them all the time. And I think once you get through the first couple of sessions, you know, you start to strip away any feelings of, you know, censoring yourself or anything away. And then that's usually when the best stuff comes.

Zach: Is there any part of this music making process that you look at or respect differently now that you're solo that maybe you didn't respect or look at before?

Harry: Honestly, I think I've always loved the touring part of of working in music, and I've always loved performing so much. The last few One Direction records we made kind of on the road in between shows, which was amazing, obviously, for for different reasons. I think this time not rushing and having a chance to really immerse myself in the process and feel like I was learning a lot as it was happening. I really felt like I fell in love with the other side of music. I really felt like I loved being in the studio every day and working on stuff and trying to work stuff out that, you know, I know I don't understand as well as other people. And it was really fun to just kind of learn as we were going. So, yeah, if I'm honest, I fell in love with the studio side.

Zach: That's awesome. And that's really special.

Harry: More so than I had before. Yeah, it does feel special. Yeah. It feels like, you know, something that I now love. I'm now writing more than I ever have before and I'm playing more than I ever have before. And it's cool to kind of be in a place where I just love writing and I'm writing all the time. Makes me excited for the next one.

Zach: Are you already writing the next one or are you always writing?

Harry: I think, I mean, I'm always writing. I don't think I'm writing right now kind of going, oh, this is for this and this is for this. I think the thing I learned a lot about the process this time was there would be songs that I love that I would absolutely love to put out that just didn't feel right for this first album. And it's cool to kind of feel like, you know, this is something that I'd love to say. Maybe I don't want to say it right now, but I can just keep it. And that's really cool.

Zach: Harry, was Sweet Creature written about a specific person? 

Harry: In my opinion, I think most songs are written for one listener. In my personal opinion, in the way that I think, you know, people who write books, I think probably write them for one reader. And yeah, I think it's a really amazing way of being able to say something to someone that, you know, maybe they'll never know it's about them. Maybe there's one thing in there that only they will know it's about them. I think it's, you know, like I said, it's so much easier to to say something in a song than it is to say it to someone. And I think it's it's really amazing to be able to communicate through that and be able to wrap up everything that you want to say in three and a half minutes and say it in a song.

Zach: For lack of like not wanting to like really analyze your art, right? You kind of said without saying that the song is kind of about somebody, right? You had a message that you were looking to convey. Who makes you feel at home?

Harry: I think that's fair. I think that's a fair, a fair acknowledgement. Yeah. 

Dan: So does this person know the song is written about them?

Harry: I actually don't know. I think the thing that's important to remember is it's not always necessarily the first thing you might think of, but I obviously would never tell someone that what they thought was wrong. I think the best thing about music is that everyone can take away different things from from stuff.

Zach: It's different every year. 

Harry: And that's not wrong. There's not really a wrong answer. I feel like a lot of my favorite songs that mean something to me, I'd be disappointed if someone told me that they're about something else. It might ruin the song for me. So, yeah, I think Sweet Creature is definitely about one person. But, yeah, I think it's important to remember that, you know, there's many different types of things that could be about, you know, a person. Yeah. Know what I mean?

Heather: It's okay, I know. 

Dan: Yeah. Was Blackbird by the Beatles an inspiration for the song? Because I've been seeing a lot of comparisons between those two.

Harry: Oh, yeah, I mean, I'm a massive fan of that song. It's incredible.

Heather: Good song.

Harry: So, I mean, being mentioned in the same breath as that song is a huge compliment. But, yeah, I mean, I just wanted to write stuff that was for me and what I feel sounded like me and what I wanted to say and listen to. And I feel really happy with it so far.

Zach: Do you have a hand in the fashion that is a part of, like, the album? Like, that blue velvet suit is gorgeous. It's very unique. Did somebody pitch that to you or did you find it? 

Harry: No, we found it. So, yeah, I think the thing that's really fun with music is you get to, you know, you see everything as well. And that has obviously become part of music in that people get to present stuff in the way that they want to present stuff. And I think it's a really good place to be able to, like, have fun with it and express yourself. And I guess just show the music in the way that you'd want to show it, I think. And it's a very cool way of being able to have some fun, I think.

Zach: We're going on tour. This is a very unique tour. It is a very intimate venue type situation.

Harry: We are going on tour.

Zach: You must be really excited to perform in intimate venues, right?

Harry: I am very excited. Yeah, I think it's my first album. It's my first tour. And I'm going to be playing some amazing venues that a lot of my favorite artists have played. They're amazing rooms. And I just wanted to I wanted to go and play these songs for some fans who wanted to come and watch and listen. So I'm very much looking forward to it. It's going to be really nice, I think. And the band I'm going to be with are amazing. And I think it's going to be a fun run.

Zach: By the way, you said rooms, right? Not arenas, not stadiums, nothing like that. Are you preparing differently mentally and creatively to cater to an audience of a smaller size?

Harry: Just kitchens. We're just playing kitchens across the U.S. 

Zach: Yeah, that's actually a really good idea. There's a lot of people who would open their kitchen up to you. 

Harry: Yeah, I that would be lovely.

Zach: You get a lot of food.

Harry: It'd be a bad kitchen though. I mean, yeah, it's very exciting. I'm looking forward to, you know, I think the energy that you can feel in those rooms, there's some of the some of my favorite shows that I've ever been to are in rooms very similar to the ones that we're going to be playing. So I'm excited to to see how it goes. 

Zach: How long does it take you to get dressed and get ready in the morning? Like, do you sit in front of the mirror in your closet for a while or is it is it quick?

Harry: It's pretty quick, man. 

Zach: Okay.

Harry: Pretty quick.

Zach: Because you always look real cool when you're out and about.

Harry: Thanks!

Zach: But I think the coolness, but the coolness is kind of like the real quickness of it. Right. The dishevelment. Right. You didn't try, but you tried. 

Harry: Comfortable, man.

Zach: Yeah. Comfort is cool.

Harry: You just have to be comfortable.

Dan: All right. Harry, everyone wants to know about the hair. Is the is the hair going to stay a little shorter? Is it going to you going to grow it back out?

Harry: Undecided, I'm enjoying both right now. I'm enjoying both. Right now, just add a little trim. I'm feeling pretty good about it. Yeah, a little breezy behind the ears. 

Zach: Are you going to bring back? 

Harry: Good. 

Zach: Are you bringing back painted fingernails at all?

Harry: Sure.

Zach: Cool. 

Harry: Why not? Yeah, I haven't really thought about it too much. Probably, yeah

Heather: Now you are. 

Zach: Sweet. By the way, I know we're talking a lot about music, obviously, because that's what's going on. Harry Styles, self-titled album, debut album coming out May 12th. He does go on tour. And this is a super unique tour. And I can't wait to see the show.

Harry: Thank you.

Zach: I just want to talk about movies real quick because you got music, but you are doing some movies. And do you have a dream role? Like, do you see yourself like in a dream role at all? Like, who would you want to play? 

Harry: Well, that's a really good question. I don't know, really, I think I was with this one, I was always a massive fan of Chris Nolan's movies. Yeah, it was something that I feel like if I hadn't been involved in it, I'd be very excited to watch it. And I kind of really wanted to get involved. And I felt very lucky the whole time I was on set to be involved in a movie like that. And I think it's going to be good. I think it's going to be a fun one. And I think if there was stuff in the future where I really wanted to get involved, then I'd love to be able to try for it, I guess. Dream role, I'm not sure. 

Zach: Can I put out into the universe that maybe one day James Bond, you know, just going to put that out there?

Harry: Well.

Zach: Right?

Harry: Well.

Zach: I don't know. I think like maybe like 15 years down the line, 20 years, whatever. Like, that's pretty sweet. I think you'd make a killer James Bond. 

Harry: I don't know. I don't know. Maybe I could use some help. 

Zach: No guns. 

Heather: Kind words of love.

Zach: Compliments. 

Harry: Throw roses around.

Heather: There you go.

Zach: Any collaborations on this album at all? 

Harry: No, nothing on this album. 

Heather: Only Harry Styles.

Harry: No, I feel like it's really important to me to work out what it was going to be going into it, not knowing what it was going to sound like. So I didn't know what my album was going to sound like. So I felt like I kind of wanted to work that out first and just kind of not kind of stray too far from just making an album of what I wanted it to be for my first one, I guess. But no, nothing on nothing on this one. 

Zach: What's the hardest part of this solo process so far for you?

Harry: I'd say you can't deflect any questions to anyone else.

Zach: Yeah, it's a really good answer.

Harry: Yeah, just just just you.

Zach: It's all you.

Harry: And then, yeah, but I'm finding new ways to wriggle out of stuff, which has been a lot of fun. 

Zach: Love for you, Harry Styles. Thank you so much for taking the time, man. It really means a lot.

Harry: Thanks for having me.

[strawberrystepmom]

Firstly, when you get this, you have to answer with 5 things you like about yourself, publicly. Then, send this ask to 10 of your favorite followers (non-negotiable, positivity is cool) ✨

i sat on this for a whole day bc im bad at this sort of thing FKDKDKDKD thank you for asking 🩷🩷🩷

1. i appreciate that my natural inclination is to make everyone feel welcome and included. nobody is perfect and i’m certain i’ve failed on this more than once in my life but it’s something that i strive very hard to do. everyone deserves a place where they feel comfortable and whatever i can do to facilitate that is what makes me feel like i have a purpose.

2. my creativity! my mind races a lot and i’m a chronic overthinker and fic writing and now drawing has given me an outlet to channel the anxious energy and i feel better bc of it.

3. my willingness to be open minded. i’m a naturally curious person and enjoy getting to know other people and to share new experiences that can change my own life view. these are integral to a happy life imo.

4. despite being hurt time and time again, my ability to bounce back and love twice as hard despite it. maybe i’m just hopeless but i’ll take that over anything else bc it keeps me soft.

5. my brain. i haven’t always been the nicest to her but she does a lot for me and deserves respect. i’m a capable person in many areas and couldn’t do it without her 🩷

[avidaraku]

Hi!!!! ʕ •̀ o •́ ʔ

welcome to my pinned post I honestly still dont know what to do with my blog like ever but still :) nice stuff. This blog contains whatever the fuck I reblog, including fandom and 18+ stuff - I do not tag my porn reblogs so if you're following me for fandom things, this is an all in one blog bc i do what i want <3 you are warned! leave if you dislike my beloved freak blog

|･ω･)

just be nice and kind babygirls, that's all i ask of <3 human decency lets go!!!! (ღ˘⌣˘ღ)

my ao3 account is https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daimashiko :) I like writing porn, my brain is constantly on khr mode :) I also never have any consistent name for my accounts, so thats also why my names are different. Hi to any discord friends who know me from well, discord <3 im sure u guys are familiar with my socials in this case

TAGS. ─=≡Σ((( つ＞＜)つ ／(＞×＜)＼

#my art (very self explanatory I am not a creative person with names?? sorryyyyy - i also considered making my art tag into artvidaraku but like. thats too much effort jklsjgkldKJDF:SJ:JKL:JK:LDG ;;)

#khr (that is my main fandom ofc <333 - overlaps with my art but also other people's khr stuff so haha... its a mess but oh well)

#poll (i like answering them! or just reblogging polls i wanted to volunteer in but its too late </3)

#lotta tags (i tend to comment a lot in tags but these are the ones where i usually write like. a lot of commentary to the point im like ohhhh i should tag this right? curious if anyone's ever went through them but also i've never talked abt these things so. oopsssss <3 - lot of it is kinda sad / depressing but usually i am pretty reflective. kinda?)

#animals (self explanatory. i love me some fucking creatures. respect nature babygirls i adore them fellas <3)

#tumblr classic (i love getting to see the classics / things i'd personally consider a classic on my feed)

#fandom (this one's pretty commonly used! yadda yadda, talks abt fanfic and stuff / sometimes i get disappointed with fandom but that's not new lol)

#fashion (i don't use this as much as I should be?? but if you want to check out what i think is fun / a vibe <3)

#avidarecs (****i literally just made this on impulse so there's not much rn but i want to share more of my recs for things in general! fandom / songs / whatever other thing comes to mind?***// will probably be rarely used? but you never know~)

there might be more tags I haven't included but from the top of my head this is it?? Might add more, i have no clue. But anyways back to my other interests and what I'm into!

media i like: khr (its number one bc i am unable to pry reborn's hands on my stupid silly little soul so i cannot escape even if i wanted to), slay the princess + scarlet hollow (games made by the same studio. i love the art and vibes sooo much and also the fanart is sooo beautiful), Jenna Marbles (i've been obsessed w her stuff recently and I hope she's having a good time w her dogs and Julien :), kpop (honestly its only just loona bc im tired and feel old as fuck despite only being in my 20s so i am not gonna get into another thing lol), and sanrio!!! i love my melody she's a cutie patootie <3

-probably more stuff I like but this post would be a lot longer

I'm certain its obvious but I am a proshipper (also i am always in rarepair hell girl HELP. but also i will chain myself to that random mix of characters without prompting. ah....), if you don't like proshippers, leave my page and block me <3

But anyways my fav tropes (i definitely have more i just cant think of them but in general im chill with lots of stuff!)

incest (i am so fr when i say somehow i always revolve around incest ships they're just soooo good. my brain is absolutely destroyed in favor of tasty fucking food. shout out to incest shippers you guys rock luv yall :3)

age gap / size difference (these tropes are lovers and they're already fucking each other within one yard of each other. good fucking food yk?)

any toxic/problematic food (necro + lolisho rights!!!) in general. i am just. yeahhhhhhhhhhh MMMM LOAD THAT SHIT UP. i also have very little memory but still whatever

genderbend - i know it's a dwindling trope in popularity but there is nothing better than mindlessly turning a guy chara into a girl like wow..... so hot.... <3 this has also been a long time trope i've adored and i'll probably never stop using it bc its just that good for me <3 mmm. girls. cute.

monsterfucker stuff is great! (does this include animal hybrids? im going to include it with that soooo)

i think this is enough, but also before you go explore whatever maze my blog is in bc i cant be bothered enough by my blog, i will also reblog things in tandem to politics / real world things (I support Palestine <3). Am American. Am Mess. But I hope the world is kinder even just a little bit more. This world is cruel, but I hope we can continue to offer each other support and love, even when times are harrowing as always.

(っ ᵔ◡ᵔ)っ have a hug/kiss!!!! (i like gifs hehe)

[herelivesahobbit]

contemplating a 100% social media break, including Tumblr and all fanfictions I follow. lot of things going on in my personal life and the main couple of fandoms I am active on at the moment are not...reaaaaaly best suited to promoting the mental health of any person not willing to budge on the abuse-isn’t-romantic stance. 

the source material itself, which I am of course unabashedly a huge fan of (otherwise i wouldn’t spend so much time talking and thinking about it lol), has several problematic aspects, but not so much that i can’t process and analyze it for what it is, keep it aside, and continue loving the show as a whole. 

first of all, i have to say, a handful of beautiful people do elevate the fandom experience, using their creative skills and analytical abilities to bring out the best of canon WITHOUT glossing over the terrible aspects of it, and often creating wonderful tributes and fanfics that improve on the writing of the source material, bring out further nuances, make me understand it better. i will forever be glad to have encountered these people who made the fandom experience amazing for me. most of them are right here on tumblr. tumblr is an oasis of rationality in this fandom tbh lol.

but a lot of discourse surrounding these show/s reflects a general fan base even MORE problematic in their thinking than the OG material itself. its not just that they see no issues with the abusive/toxic aspects, but that they further glorify these via their writings, and take the time to even expand on these aspects in the fanfiction they write, read, and then defend to the death. many are also pretty toxic in the way they talk about the cast, crew, writers etc apparently forgetting that those are REAL ALIVE PEOPLE with feelings, families, and concerns of their own. the more i have gotten into some fandoms, the more I realize this type of thinking isn’t a tiny minority. might even be the majority. its really depressing to think there are so many real people in 2023 who truly think this way about traditional vs “modern” women, women’s role in marriage, abuse being justified, etc etc.

the thing is, i admit that this is fully a personal issue, its my problem more so than anybody else’s. i’ve gone through certain stressful patches in the last 1.5 years, and i always tend to latch on to a particular piece of media that happens to be totally opposite to my daily reality, as a coping mechanism. and that’s fine, except when the thing i use to escape stress itself causes even more stress then perhaps its no longer a harmless hobby. and that’s maybe starting to happen now. 

i’ve had this moment with a lot of fandoms in the past, being, as i said, an unabashed fan of many things, i have delved deep into discourse and fanfic and what not with different franchises and stories, and i always recognize a time comes when i need to take a step back, bc maybe hi, im the problem its me and therefore i need to develop a thicker skin and curate my fandom experience better for my own mental health.

a total social media break would probably help with detoxing a bit and then i’ll hopefully get back with a healthier state of mind 💜

[iheartchv]

Hello, love! I hope you're doing well and your day is going great! I would like to request a match up from your Christmas event! 🌿🍒

I would like to be match up with one of the turtle gang. ^^

I'm strawberry blonde, have blue eyes and I'm not really skinny but not too big either. I am quite short to some (5'3") and people tend to think I'm younger than I already am. 😅 I like to wear t-shirts, jeans, and vans/converses but I don't mind dressing up every once in a awhile. (No to dresses though!)

My interests and hobbies? I enjoy watching anime, listen to music, writing stories, reading, and sometimes do some creative crafts (I made some Christmas decor for my family a few times, think of me as the artist of the family). I enjoy playing video games but I'm picky on what I play (Genshin Impact, Sonic games, and horror games). I enjoy learning new things and make theories, especially if it's on games. I would love to cosplay, but I'm too insecure to actually participate. I love to cook things, especially baking. I used to work at a bakery, so decorating cakes is my forte.

My personality? There's a lot with my personality 😂 One minute I could be happy, then I could be depressed within seconds if a certain topic triggers me. I could be fun and laid back, but I get serious when something has been on my mind a lot. I care so much for people (maybe a little too much) and I want what's best for them, but when someone hurts me I cut them off completely. I won't mistreat them but I won't hangout with you like we used to. I am an introvert and I prefer to not go anywhere and be around large crowds, unless you want me to have an anxiety attack. I guess you can say I have trust issues but I always have some grace, if that makes sense. I knew I can be confusing to people because of how my mood will switch so fast. Maybe that's the reason I don't have much friends 😅

What I like in a partner? I know I like someone who has a lot of patience and is mature. Considering how my mood can switch so fast, I need them to know when is the right time to do certain things. I like them to be fun, too. To be silly whenever I'm feeling down, or give me advice/listen when I need it. I like to have them to have some of the same interests as me. I don't really care on what they look like, I only care about how they treat me. I really love tall guys. I say I don't like being short but that's a lie, especially when he could lean down and give me a forehead kiss 💞

I apologize if this is too much! >.< I enjoy your writing and I'm glad I could be part of the fandom. I hope you're having a good day/night, and please take care of yourself! 🥰

Im 5'3" as well, and people think im younger than my actual age,too so i feel ya 😂👍

Hmmm you'd be matched with... Donatello💜

Possible matches: Leo, April, Splinter

Donnie ends up falling for you

You've bonded over music, what animes youve watched, video games and theories surrounding them

Your baked goods are to die for

Loves them with his coffee (morning or night)

He understands you and will not make you do something youre uncomfortable with

He is patient, he is mature, and will be silly just to make you smile

Forehead kisses included

He will be whatever and give you whatever you need

And he's been a wonderful sweet boyfriend

For Christmas you baked a tiramisu/cake for Donnie

He ate the first bite and fed you some bites

"Have I ever told you I love you?"

"Many times" you smiled at him

"I love you, turtle dove, and I appreciate everything you do for me"

He kisses you on your forehead, your eyes lids, nose, cheeks, and then your lips

It might be cold outside but with you he's never felt warmer

Hope you like your match 👉💜👈

[aircommndr]

Mun Vs. Muse

Similarities: dont hate me

Pride. Im sorry I am a prideful mofo and I have to keep in check otherwise i get myself into some pretty wack scenarios

Humor. I am creative with my witty comebacks which got me in a LOT of trouble growing up. I will let you know if i dont like you and ill be very vocal about it. were also both very sassy lol

we love ourselves some revenge if we deem it needed <3 def a fighter more than "lover". We also both have been involved in activism for a number of problems in our societies.

That "wont give up / wont give in" attitude. Im stuck currently at a job i absolutely HATE just because i wanna prove to my bosses that i AM capable and that I CAN do what any other manager can. I had 0 training for my position and the cards were stacked against me but guess whos still in their role a year later? This fool. I really do need to step down tho like plz i need a break LOL

On a similar note, admitting when I failed. Me and starscream are the WORST at that. We just. cant do it. nor can we admit when we're sinking / need help

Little shit syndrome. Im sorry but I can be an ass LOL. I have a very poor filter (which,, is partly due to my autism and poor skills at recognizing how to communicate with people) but i enjoy messing with people (playfully! unless i actually hate u but ye)

Similar vocal range! more so for g1 but certain other continuities. my voice is very neutral sounding, and im a bit scratchy/nasally! I also have a lot of vocal stims that are loud and noisy and often include screaming!

Delusions of Grandeur. Me and star both suffer from that and feel that there MUST be something important about us but also feel like we are inadequate. Kinda paradoxically

Me and Starscream both have Autism! As well as Psychosis! I struggle with hallucinations (both visual abd audible)

We are both prone to self sabotaging, as well as other poor coping skills we share

We both struggle with abandonment issues, and our major way of dealing with it is to cut ties / not make ties in the first place for fear of being hurt

Abuse survivors,, similar traumas

kinda off topic but i LOVE planes. Ive been flying on planes by myself since I was literally 4 years old ,, so planes are a comfort

we both struggle to accept help, affection, or kind words / praise without feeling like its a trap or something, and we just arent used to it. Touch is vvv iffy with us

....we got some similar kinks whoops

Differences:

I hate to disappoint all of you but I do not, in fact, turn into a jet (big sad)

Height difference. Hes a big ass bot, im barely 5'1

I am also not a robot (again sorry)

Not a war vet LMAO

im an asshole but not exactly on the same level as this fool

while i struggle with empathy sometimes due to mental disorders/trauma, i have way more than he tends to lol

Tagged by: snagged from @trustme-imamedic

Tagging: @warriorsparked , @13urningstars , @rifleseye , @virtute-praeditum , @dontpetmeibite , @dynamoprotocol anyone else who wants to!

[crackicrossiships]

(Pinned Post)

🌼🐊General Stuff🐊🌼

My name is Alligatia (Gatia for short) and this is my shipping/general posts account!! My other account which I will admit is basically my main but also my self shipping account @floragators

I basically just post oc stuff, anthro art, hot people/monsters, and shipping, whichever work’s honestly. Expect to definitely see a lot of crack ships or crossover ships. OC x Canon included!! That is after all how I got my name because I especially love shipping, either romantically, platonically, queerplatonically, of family-like!!

I may or may not make a list here of some of my favorite crack/crossover shippings but who knows really!

My messages/inbox are always open for questioning so don’t be afraid to!

A bit on me:

I’m Aroaceflux Bisexual and Nonbinary going by they/them preferably! At the rare times she/her

I’m currently 18 and my birthday is Feb 3rd !!

I’m currently attending college and am a psychology major!! I do also intend to try to pursue animation/art if I even can

I’m hispanic, half Uruguayan and half Cuban. I was born in Florida too.

I’m a furry/anthro artist and my fursona is a flowergator also named Alligatia. Though if you know from my other account, then you would know I have more then one self insert.

I simp over a lot of fictional characters and do self ship myself with them, which is primarily found on my other account. Im also a huge monster/non-human lover and my taste is very strange indeed

I do wanna make it clear that self shipping and selfcest ARE NOT the same thing. Selfcest is iffy to me and I personally don’t like it so you won’t see any of that here. However I suppose I don’t mind if people do?? Take this with a grain of salt though because it’s something that’s just confusing/weird to me and I would rather not go into a whole debate about whether or not it’s right.

I love horror stuff mainly and did in fact grow up with some gorey horror movies and I do appreciate a great psychological horror

I also have an interest in psychology, art (obviously), reading/writing, and science!! I also have an interest in baking and I’m starting to get into that hobby

I’m into so many fandoms to the point where I can’t list them so if your curious on what fandoms I am in, just ask or even look through my accounts to see. I am also in some dead fandoms, even if ofc, the fandom isn’t relevant I still am! Sometimes my fixations never die and just go into hiding you know? That is ofc, unless I do specifically I am not longer in that fandom (such as Danganronpa or BNHA). Would I possibly post some stuff about them? Maybe but don’t get your hopes up because there are reasons I’m no longer in the fanbase.

I love making redesigns and being creative because creativity is my strive!! Though do keep in mind that me making redesigns ≠ to me hating them.

Here’s an example of some of my artworks:

Now obviously I do have Do Not Interacts, which is the basics: racism, antisemitism, zooph*les, anti-lgbt, proshitters, aro-ace exclusives, etc. etc. I shouldn’t have to say this but I do.

Another dni to note is to not try to defend problematic things in certain media (ex. the racist og designs of Yogurt Cream Cookie/Lilac Cookie and racist stereotype of Purple Yam Cookie) and instead criticize and acknowledge it. It’s also completely understandable to just not be comfortable with it at all, I myself got very uncomfortable with it. However I’ll make sure to be aware when posting content related to Cookie Run.

[cfrog]

im gonna write about the significance of robot names in my robots' culture. under the cut.

First and foremost, the names that the bots are most commonly referred to (Xiphoid, Nautiloid, etc.) are actually their model names. Like how people refer to cars. Their "legal" names are the model+ID number code (Xi01, Naut0324, etc.) but those are kind of a pain to remember and say. So, how do you refer to a bot in a situation with multiple of the same model?

Well, the other big difference within models is color, which is a lot easier to figure out than checking IDs. Distributors will do their best to avoid repeat colors within the same project or area, so just going "the blue one" is usually a safe bet. That's the basic solution.

The long-term solution between bots, however, is nicknames. All bots (that associate with other bots) have at least one, but none are kept on any official records, so it's exclusively shared between bots. These names can be shortenings of the model name, references to their number or color, or something about their appearance or personality. The giving of a nickname is an act of closeness as well as convenience, a way of saying "We spend so much time together, and I refer to you so often, that I need to have my own method of specifying you." Popular bots will have a multitude of names they'll respond to, with some being exclusive to a certain bot. By contrast, more anti-social bots will reject nicknames and refuse to respond to any new names.

To continue to use Xi01 as an example, they get priority on being just Xiphoid, most bots will refer to them as such. The other Xiphoids will call them Xiph if they're being friendly, or 01 if they're not. Naut uses their preferred title of Dr. Xiph, or just Doctor, because they know it makes Xiph happy. Similarly, Vi calls them Doc, because it fits their casual tone better. (I actually wrote the first time Vi calls Xiph "Doc" in chapter 4. wasn't sure how much attention to call to it since readers wouldn't have this context. but now you do!)

And for examples of names within models, some of the other Xiphoids' names include: 03 (or very rarely Xi), Fi (but they prefer Fifi, it's cuter), Xoid, and Ex. Earlier models get first dibs on the obvious ones, so any Xiphoids past these first few have to get a bit more creative.

Humans who work alongside bots probably come up with names as well (because they're humans, we love naming things) but all the bots I'm writing about don't actively interact with humans, so it is not relevant. We're talkin robot-only culture here.

That's all thank you for reading my robot ramblings