#so when you mature and get a better grasp on that sort of thing you see less of it

[paragonrobits]

"why did Zuko's memories portray Azula Like That? Is he an unreliable narrator? do the authors hate younger sisters"

Azula was openly Ozai's favorite, and even at that age she had enough political savvy to know that she can functionally do no wrong; the only time anyone expresses any kind of open disapproval of her at all is when her mother tells her off or complains about it. A rich child of that age who is also the favored daughter of one of the most powerful men in the country (and as Iroh doesn't seem to have much interest in politicking at all, Ozai likely had more political power than Iroh ever did), she could get away with pretty much anything she felt like doing, and she knew it

the most significant factor being, in addition to that, that she is emulating everything Ozai says and does; even if she doesn't BELIEVE it herself (and based on her other statements and actions at times when she doesn't have anything to gain by toeing the party line, she probably does), that is still going to color her world view and personal decisions

so, assuming Zuko's memories ARE accurate (and the show doesn't really do unreliable narrator that much), its pretty clear why Azula is Like That. It's because she's the openly favored child of a notoriously violent and cruel tyrant, and already a pampered child of the most powerful family in a country that reveres power and ferocity above anything else, and she is actively imitating that violent and cruel tyrant.

Given that we have little reason to believe anyone ever disciplined her in any shape or form beyond Ozai expressing disapproval of her actions (and its quite possible he's never really done that either), her behavior isn't surprising at all; if anything she should be significantly worse.

[bigfatbimbo]

AH‼️ It's 🫶 anon, good to hear that you did, indeed, receive at least one of my ramblings! You're truly one of my favourite hazbin writers :)) the way you write fluff is immaculate! Your fluff smells of coconut dish soap and freshly cleaned clothes, but without fabric softener because you're efficient and know that fabric softener is a scam. I am so glad to hear that you enjoyed my long talk about Velvette! I doubted it would have turned out well considering I am ace/aro (shoutout to alastor🗣🗣📢) and well, as I predicted, it could have went better ahaha x-)).

Well! I always deliver on my promises! So, i will give more romantic headcannons for Velvette (because as you may have noticed, I am more of a pining kind of person and forgot to write the romance part of the romantic relationship with her, so, use this ask as a.. apology of sorts?) And, one of my next asks will be those awaited nsfw headcannons haha^^

So‼️ now that your relationship has really started, there are a couple paths this could go in (all equally adorable if you ask me)

Our reader is a weak demon!

In this case, this entire situation is a little more hillarious than it would be if the reader were stronger ahaha:)) anyway! Velvette would probably have your safety on her mind 25/8. She is only eased in her anxiety because, well, she doesn't exactly allow you out of her sight. She's working? You're sitting next to her watching as her new collection comes to life.

Nobody gets to be close to you! Nuh uh! She isn't as bad as Vox to the point where she doesn't even let you see your friends with how nightmarishly bratty he'd get if you did go see them, but she is quite assertive when she thinks it is "too much".

Sometimes she sees you as too valuable for the low-lives you interact with among the weaker demons, and, if you cannot tell the signs of that thought creeping into her head, she might just start whining about how awful all your friends are. Insessantly.

She isn't aware that it is a manipulation tactic, pointing out their flaws all the time, that is. If you do inform her that it is wrong to do such things, I regret to inform her that you're out of luck. Her "friends" are more business partners than anything, and slandering them to you is one of her favourite activities; "fuck, you deserve to be an overlord WAYY more than any of the losers in that meeting. UGH. They're so annoying, it's crazy. Oh also did I tell you? That old fuck was at the meeting! Oh, which one? I don't fucking know his stupid name, but I think it's the one Vox has his panties in a twist about.. oh oh! Hear this-" it is her favourite part of the day, really. The only people she found tolerable in her work were those who agreed with her all the time, and the didn't pay much mind to them honestly. "Keep your friends close and your enemies closer", it seems. So, it is hard for her to grasp why you didn't want her to slander the people you held close.

She will make an effort to complain about them less, though, but only after you managed to put her in the right track to having a mature discussion about it. You two agreed that you'd see them a little less, and, she'd stop complaining about them as much. Her point wasn't irrational, she says that these demons were horrible influences for you. This is hell, after all, you couldn't argue with that. But it was also the best you could be getting in terms of friends in hell, so, the compromise was thus reached.

Or...

The reader is a strong demon!

Her worries are eased by the knowledge of your power, she'd be lying if she said she didn't find it the least bit attractive. Seeing you stand up to vox or any other overlord, while both you, her and the overlord knew you could probably beat them in a fight, was so... entertaining, to the both of you. Your social footing also didn't allow you to be attached at the hip with her, which upset her. At least she knew you were safe!

You two were an absolute power duo, with you being openly in a relationship to the public or not, all of social media couldn't shut up about the two of you. She loved watching edits of you both online, but she'd never tell you that. If you were to peek into her phone, various tabs and apps are opened on discussion boards where hundreds of demons exclaimed their want to be in either her's or your position. It made her feel powerful to see how much people wanted you, however weird that may seem. It didn't make her the least bit jealous, no; knowing that she is the one that caught your undivided attention and love while hundreds others would kill to be in her position felt good. Though, she already knew she was desired, so, the ego boost from posts that said "I wish I was velvette right here（´ 3｀)" attached to a picture of you holding her waist as you held out a flower for her with a smile brought her far more satisfaction than the ones where people wanted to be you.

Being able to use the "do you know who we are??" Argument whenever something didnt go the way you two pleased was basically an automatic response from her. She is very powerful on her own, but loves the scary dog privileges you bring along.

Never the matter of which category the reader is, please do compliment her on her designs! Approval and praise have always been a driving force in her life, but, she didn't really care for people's opinions as much, because she doesnt care about who those people are! She's a devout follower of the "I won't take criticism from someone who isn't contributing for my life" mindset. What are those people doing for her? Giving her money? Organizing her bedroom? Didn't think so.

But you? Gosh you were the summer in the coldest of winters! Being with you brought Velvette so much joy, it was no wonder your opinion mattered.

The fashion in hell took a noticeable turn for whatever you enjoy after you started dating her ahaha:)) being it a different color scheme or you for whatever reason really liking 80's exercise sets with those ridiculously large leg warmers, within the mountains of red beautiful elegant dresses she made, a pop of other colors could be spotted. If you were out to the public, she would proudly announce that you were her muse for the piece, praises of how innovative the style was amidst the current fashion of the Pride ring. Needless to say, with all of her praise about it, the clothes you inspired sold out much quicker than others.

Giving her little gifts and such made her quite happy. She loved expensive, beautiful rings and jewelry and all things shiny, but, what really got to her were the things you made or that reminded you of her. You baked cupcakes based off of her looks? AGH! That is SO adorable! Expect it to be posted all over her social media profiles that very same day. You drew her in a dress you came up with yourself because her work inspired you so much? She might just actually die again. Even if you're a horrible designer, she will still be so flattered.

-

Oh well! What are your thoughts? Also, I'm thinking about starting to use my actual account to send asks, mainly because I am an artist and made more than one piece inspired by your wonderful works, and I'd love to share them with you. Do you think I should?

I might also send things about sir pentious, vox, lucifer, husk, basically everyone haha! I actually have some things about mimzy in mind. But, most scary of all, I am madly in love with the absolute scumbag we call Adam. Hopefully you don't mind hearing the most deranged thoughts I have regarding him ahaha x-)) maybe I'll even convince you to write for that loser! Who knows.

I await your insight :)))

- a very excited 🫶 anon

OH MY GOD? 🫶 ANON YOU’VE STRUCK GOLD ONCE AGAIN! There’s so much to unpack here oh my gosh where do I start?

I love how protective Velvette is over a weak reader. Her possessiveness is written in a very in-character way. Because I do think she would be incredibly possessive but I don’t think she would fully understand how possessive she was being, like she would just think this is the correct way to react simply because it’s how she thought to react. Of course she’d lighten up as much as she could after a serious talk, just as you said.

I also think that Velvette with a strong reader is soooo interesting oh my god. Like the power couple you two would be, OH AND WHAT YOU SAID ABOUT THE EDITS? Absolutely. She would eat that shit up, and definitely feed the public with cute photos and videos of you two. Oh and when you said she finds the readers power attractive, oh yea she does. Shes incredibly turned on, to say the least. All of her models and workers kiss her ass so much, that the fact you don’t kneel down to Velvette like everyone else literally does something to her.

Also I absolutely adore the words of affirmations and gift giving love language as the ones she likes to receive. Gift giving is 100% for her like she eats that shit up. To be honest, still think she appreciates an acts of service reader BUT words of affirmation is an interesting one for sure. It takes a long time, and I mean a long time, for someone to earn her respect. But when this happens, there opinion of her starts to actually matter, which is obviously a kind of rare thing. So she so loves compliments and praise and lots of things to feed her ego.

Anyways, those are my thoughts on the Velvette headcanons! I eat your writing up every time!

NOW ONTO THE OTHER THINGS!!

So let me start off by saying, I am SO INCREDIBLY, STUPENDOUSLY, TOTALLY interested in your thoughts on the other characters, Lucifer, Sir Pentious, Husk, Vox, Adam, etc. I’m specifically interested in your thoughts on Mimzy because even though she’s on my characters list, I don’t have many thoughts on her myself. So I am very curious as to what you’re thinking.

Also very close to writing for Adam, but I’d love for you to try to convince me.

ALSO about you using and actual account to send asks, GO FOR IT!!??? WHAT YOU SAID ABOUT BEING AN ARTIST… oh boy i’m intrigued. AND YOU’VE MADE THINGS INSPIRED BY MY WORKS? Don’t make me blush, babes, oh my god??!!

“Your fluff smells of coconut dish soap and freshly cleaned clothes, but without fabric softener because you're efficient and know that fabric softener is a scam.”

I LOVE YOU. SPECIFIC COMPLIMENTS LIKE THIS ARE EVERYTHING TO ME. HAVE THE BEST DAY OF YOUR LIFE, YOUR AMAZING.

THIS IS BIMBO, SIGNING OFF.

[anisespice]

tall fem reader?

tall fem reader!!! thanks for the request, anon :)))

hq ver.

pairing: college!tr x tall!fem!reader

warnings: mature language, MDI, suggestive language, reader mentioned in chifuyu’s but not present, mild mild mild cat-call in hanma’s - just crack overall, honestly lol feel free to let me know if i missed anything!

notes: planned to make this a whole x whoever you want type beat, BUT figured just doing a headcanon broken into different heights would be more efficient lol plus MORE CONTENT - gonna make a pt. 2 with some hq men, but for now — t.rev! :))) hope you enjoy <3 !!

tagged: @fantasycantasy , @illegalspacecow

small — ♡

When it came down to a relationship, MIKEY wasn’t shallow enough to let physical appearances stop him from pursuing someone he wanted—He liked what he liked, fuck what anybody else had to say about it. The blonde never had issue with your drastic height difference, seeing it as more of a perk than anything else. His best friend was tall, so why not his girlfriend? It just meant whenever he walked down the street, he’d look like a total badass with his two attractive beanpoles at his side.

However, a lot of the buzz on campus mostly centered around Mikey’s height rather than yours. It never bothered him, but it certainly got you tight anytime someone tried to uplift you whilst putting him down in the process.

“A shrimp like him wouldn’t know how to handle all that leg of yours, mama. Lemme take you out tonight, show you a good time with someone who’s more on your level, whaddya say?”

Barf.

Mikey would merely give them a dead-stare; unbothered king. You, on the other hand, didn’t hesitate to knock them down a size or two.

“First of all, your busted-looking ass could never be on the same level as me. Second of all, where my man lacks in height, he makes up for elsewhere, so he handles me very well, thank you. You’re probably the type to just shove it in without any sort of technique, thinking that’s enough to get a girl to finish. My man won’t bust once until I’ve came up to four times, the fuck can you offer me besides being six-foot? Hm? That’s right, not a damn thing. Remember that next time you talk shit, dirt-neck.”

Read him straight to filth. And God forbid Mikey had his gang with him anytime some scrub tried to spit game, best believe they’d dog the guy until he scurried away in humiliation. It always filled him with great adoration for you wherever you checked someone in his defense, your entire relationship giving off the same energy as that one meme with Kevin Hart’s character being protectively held by the lady. It’d been put in the groupchat a number of times just to tease the delinquent, but he’s unashamed at the fact you could easily pick his ass up. If anything, he was all for it, even requested piggy-back rides from you more often than his right-hand man—Draken’s back appreciates your sacrifice.

Now let someone try and spit game at him.

“Yeah, normally guys feel emasculated when their girlfriend’s taller than them, y’know? I’m surprised you don’t, though. No offense, [_____] just doesn’t seem like a good fit for you. I mean, must be tough to lay in the same bed, or even put her in your lap without feeling smothered or crushed. Wouldn’t it be much better to have someone a little smaller-”

“She could sit on me until my pelvis collapsed, and I would thank her. And, full offense, if I was single, still wouldn’t pick you even if you put a gun to my head. Keep my girl’s name out your mouth, you don’t deserve to breathe the same air let alone be on first name basis. Now, quit wasting my time—Do you have the notes from yesterday’s lecture or not?”

You don’t play about him. He don’t play about you. Period.

And as far as sharing a bed, cuddling or otherwise, Mikey was a sucker for being held like a damn squishmellow. Didn’t matter if you took up most of the leg space, dude would be wrapped around you like a python, so snug and warm you’d be lucky to even escape his grasp for food or the bathroom. Once he’s sleep, he’s SLEEP, and then you become the squishmellow.

“Mikey, I will be right back, turn me loose-”

“Zzzzzz…” out like a light. Drooling and everything, face smushed up against your boobs, just content. You’d think he’d been working the graveyard shift. And God forbid he ended up laying on top of you, sprawled out starfish style…you for sure weren’t going anywhere then.

Even if you expressed this dilemma after he woke up, the blonde merely yawned. “Just pick me up and carry me with you…”

“You’re smoking crack if you think I’m gonna haul your ass with me into the bathroom. I love you and all that, but we ain’t at the stage where I can comfortably use it with you in room.”

He shrugged. “Mm. Guess you don’t have to go that bad. G’night.”

“Mikey.”

“Shh, I’m sleeping…”

A gremlin. But, your gremlin. ♡

—

medium — ♡

CHIFUYU still can’t believe he bagged you, frfr.

There’d be moments where you’d catch him staring, as if he figured you’d disappear the second he took his eyes off you.

It’d get a little creepy sometimes, but it was endearing all the same. He wasn’t the shortest guy, though he wasn’t the tallest either, and standing next to you was a constant reminder of that. Not that he held any resentment toward you for it, he absolutely loved your height. However, there was always some form of insecurity that would resurface anytime someone called attention to it.

And today, his best friend and co-worker, Baji, would not only be the culprit, but an unlikely source of reassurance.

While they were stocking up inventory, the ravenette couldn’t help but notice the stool his friend was using to put a box in a particular high place. Wearing a mischievous grin, Baji pointed. “Oi. You should take that home with you. That way your girl won’t have to strain her neck when she kisses you.” He snorted, thinking he was the funniest man alive.

Normally, something that lame wouldn’t phase him, but guess today he was feeling a little more sensitive. With a grunt, the former blonde coolly spoke, “Maybe you should shut the hell up, and stock the damn shelves.”

“Whoa. What’s up your ass?” Baji furrowed his brows, walking over to lightly kick at the stool’s metal leg, making it jerk. Chifuyu sharply gasped, latching onto an empty shelf to steady himself. He exhaled, relieved, then shot a glare. But, Baji wasn’t perturbed.

Chifuyu sighed. “Nothing. I’m fine...”

“Fine my left nut. You don’t get short like that unless there’s something on your mind,” not the best way to phrase that, but at least he was genuine. Chifuyu rolled his eyes, coming down off the stool to brush past the ravenette.

“Not in the mood, alright?”

Baji was left standing there, dumbfounded.

The entire vibe had been thrown on its head, and he didn’t understand why. Awkwardly, he went back to assorting through the contents within the nearest box, bottom lip stuck out in thought as he briefly glanced at Chifuyu’s back mere feet away. It was like an itch he couldn’t scratch. He knew not to pry, but curiosity always won gold in the end. Baji replayed the conversation in his head, using his impeccable deductive reasoning to draw his own conclusions.

And then suddenly, an epiphany.

Without a hint of warning, the ravenette quickly walked over and slapped his friend in the middle of his back. Chifuyu yelped, nearly dropping the box in his hands before whipping around to fix Baji with a wide, incredulous look. “T-The hell?!”

“So. She dumped ya, huh? [Sigh] Look man, don’t beat yourself up, a lot of guys fumble the bag from time to time. If ya need a shoulder to cry on…don’t use mine, but ‘tora might let you-”

“Hah?? What are you—[_____] didn’t dump me, dumbass!”

Baji blinked. “Oh. My bad, jus’ figured that’s why you’re in your feelings.”

“And you thought the best thing to do was to hit me, then tell me to cry on someone else?” Chifuyu squinted when the arsonist gave a shrug. He sighed again, carefully setting the box down. “It’s not about [______]. Well, technically. The other day we had lunch with a few of her friends. They apparently have been dying to meet me for some time. And things were going great until…”

Chifuyu trailed off, leaving Baji in suspense.

He grunted. “‘till what? Jus’ say it, bet it isn’t even that bad-”

“They were shocked to see her with someone who barely came up to her elbows.”

Silence filled the storage room. Chifuyu continued to keep his eyes trained elsewhere while his counterpart merely stared for what felt like hours, but only seconds. And then…

“Pfft.”

Chifuyu looked up and sneered, blushing furiously as he threw a chew toy from one of the boxes at the fiend. “Hey! Don’t laugh! Do you have any idea how humiliating that is??”

Baji, to his dismay, effortless caught the toy, even squeaking it a couple times just to annoy him more. Taking a moment to collect himself, the ravenette still wore his sharp grin as he spoke through airy giggles. “So? Who cares what they have to say?”

“I do! They’re [_____]’s friends, everyone knows their approval is just as crucial to the relationship as the parents…if not more.”

“Mm. Pretty sure you’re overthinking this.”

Chifuyu gave a sarcastic laugh, “Pretty sure I’m not.”

“Alright. Lemme school ya on how women operate when they get in their little cliques.” Baji dusted off his hands, missing the eye roll the former blonde gave once again. With his pointer held high, he declared, “If majority of the friend group is taken, they’re just being protective. No doubt they’ve been there for every heartbreak, every fight, ‘nd jus’ don’t think anyone’s good enough for [_____]. Jus’ gotta keep your head down, and don’t give ‘em any reason to be weary. Simple.”

With a slow, skeptical nod, Chifuyu pursed his lips at his fellow delinquent. It wasn’t unlikely, so at least he’s correct in that regard. However, the line between facts and feelings began to blur the further Baji continued.

“But, if majority of them are single, then you’re screwed either way —Damned if you do, damned if you don’t.”

“Wow, that’s so helpful. You sure schooled me, Baji-san.”

“‘m serious. You gotta watch out for the single ones in the friend group. They’re all passive aggressive, try to get under your skin, push your buttons. Then, before you know it, they’re in your head, get you so worked up only for them to turn around and play victim, saying you can’t take a joke, and now you’re the fucking bad guy! Classic textbook emotional manipulation—Don’t fall for it. ‘cause they’ve got it down to a science, I’m telling ya.”

Chifuyu’s eyes widen at the sudden intensity that overtook the room, taking a small step back when Baji jabbed his finger at him, as if he were warning him of some conspiracy. “Uh…you good?”

Baji took a moment’s pause. Then, he cleared his throat.

“Sorry, got a little carried away. All’s I’m saying is, don’t sweat. Lotta chick’s pick on the best friend’s new fling, t’s like a war tactic—Poking at our fragile egos ‘nd all that. But, seems like you did fine, otherwise you’d be crying all over ‘tora right now.” Baji shrugged.

Chifuyu blinked, now his turn to be dumbfounded. “Huh.”

He frowned. “‘Huh’? I jus’ gave you some killer, black-pilled insight on cracking their code of conduct, and all I get is a dry-ass ‘huh’? Tsk. I’m charging you next time, goddamn freeloader.”

Chifuyu glared, but softened soon after. After taking his words into consideration, the former blonde couldn’t help but feel lighter. “It’s just... didn’t expect that to actually make me feel better.”

Baji scrunched his nose. “The fuck’s that supposed to mean? Oi, don’t ever doubt my knowledge. It may be selective, but I got it when it counts. Besides, thanks to me you won’t take that stool home after all.”

“I wasn’t planning to take it home in the first place.”

“Right. Keep telling yourself that, elbows.”

“Hey!”

—

large — ♡

“Hey, baby, those legs go all the way up?”

It was moments like this where you detested not being able to blend in with the average crowd. Attention always seemed to gravitate toward you no matter how hard you tried to avoid it, like being covered in honey while trying to walk in front of a herd of bears. And it didn’t help that you were currently wearing heels tonight, accentuating your legs even more in the little, black cocktail dress you sported. You were headed to a party a mutual friend of yours was throwing, and you wanted to surprise your man by wearing the new Jimmy Choos he bought you, knowing how much he loved how your legs with the extra height on them—Evidently, so did the prowling degenerate on the streets.

You had elected to ignore them. HANMA seemed to have other plans as he came to a complete stop in his tracks, slowly turning around to walk up on the moron who had the nerve to open his mouth. Low, golden eyes gazed down at the waste of space, face calm but a murderous aura oozed off him like pheromone, suffocating the slimy bastard into submission as he attempted to shrink away. But, he wasn’t about to let him get away so easily.

A wide, eerie grin spread across his face. “Could’ve sworn I just heard you cat-call my girl right in front of me. But, you wouldn’t be stupid enough to do that. Right?”

The guy nervously looked back for reinforcements but his buddies were already long gone. Hanma’s grin immediately dissolved from his face, kissing his teeth before grabbing the guy by the front of his collar and twisting. “Fuckin’ hate repeating myself.”

Hanma wound his arm back, dead set on knocking the guy into an early grave until you intervened at the last second. By grabbing onto the balled up fist, you brought it to your lips to place a tender kiss on the inked skin. You felt his muscles relax, but he still held the offender by his shirt, only slightly playing attention to you cooing in his ear.

“Baby, you promised no fighting tonight, remember?”

“I know, doll, but this fucker,” he shook the guy around in his tight grasp, unhinged grin making its appearance once more at the sound of him blubbering, “deserves to have his shit rocked for even looking at you. I’m just gonna teach ‘em a little lesson about manners, that’s all. I’ll be quick.”

You scoffed, “You and I both know you don’t do quick.”

Hanma snickered. “First time for everything, right?”

“Shuji.”

Tugging on his arm, you were able to redirect all of his focus onto you, sinister eyes melting into sweet caramel as his pupils dilated the second they locked on yours. It always did something to him whenever you came up to eye-level. Sure, you were already pretty tall but the heels nearly had you towering him. It gave him a weird sensation, one that made him want to drop everything and worship you like the deity you were. Especially in situations like this.

Hanma felt like the smaller one for once. It drove him insane.

You fixed him a stern look. “Drop him.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, he discarded the guy onto the pavement like an old can, wild eyes eagerly watching you and waiting for your next request. Taking his free hand into yours, interlacing your fingers, you led the rest of the way by pulling him from the nobody now cowering near a bush, no doubt rethinking his life choices while you kept onward to your destination. You didn’t get all spruced up to not be seen tonight, and you’ll be damned if any more time got wasted on some loser he’d put in a coma after one hit. After a short moment of silence, you expected Hanma to be mad at you for not letting him knock someone’s teeth loose. But when you glanced back at him, you should’ve known you’d be greeted with absolute smugness as you shook your head in mirth.

You elected to ignore the obvious tent in his pants…but he’d surely plan for you to do otherwise later on.

[ovaryacted]

Okay I’m home and chilled out, so I’m just gonna ramble about my thoughts/analysis that I keep having about perceiving Leon Kennedy as a sexual being. This might be long. I also want to reiterate that my word is not law, and everyone has their own hcs and stuff and that’s okay!

I know hard dom content is very popular across the erotica/smut medium as a whole. Rough sex has always been popular and trust me, I’m a fan too. But if I can be controversial for like two seconds, I don’t see Leon as a hard dom personally. Closest thing would be a rough daddy dom, but to me Leon always gave me someone who caters to their partner. He’s loving and affectionate, a little rugged and awkward sure, but nonetheless he cares and wants to give a good experience.

He studies his partner, learns about what makes them tick, what makes them moan, how their body responds to different stimuli. Leon is a perceptive human being, he observes things before fully handling them so he can take the best approach that gives him the best results. I think he’d approach sex the same way if he’s with someone that he cares for.

In a weird way, I also don’t think Leon is a sex god of sorts. He’d have to find the time and ability to actually experiment with different dynamics and kinks to figure out what he likes too. It’ll all be a learning process for him, but to me Leon is someone that prioritizes his partner’s pleasure above his own because that’s what gets him off. If you feel good, he feels good. He gets off on getting you off type of deal, that’s who he is.

I also think Leon’s sexual dynamics depend on where he is in his life. When he’s younger, he’s naive, grasping on to whatever makes sense so he’d be more inclined to letting someone else lead and show him things he wouldn’t know at first (hence why a lot of ppl write RE2 Leon as a sub). As he gets older, gets more experience here and there, he’d try building more of his own confidence and autonomy and realize he has the ability to take control. Consider RE4/ID/RE6, he’s smarter, more aged, more mature (it’s the trauma), so he’d be more able to take charge like others paint him out to be but I don’t think he’d be inherently “aggressive”, far from it really. He’s serious about communication and being vocal, because he has to hear whether or not he’s doing the right thing or he needs to tweak something for a better experience. He’s not selfish he’s a sweetheart, that I can stand ten toes on.

The period of time in Vendetta to me is where I would see the rough sex come out because he’ll be using it as a means of self harm. He wouldn’t want to hurt another person, but more so he doesn’t care about himself, so his actions will be considered “reckless” and he won’t realize the consequences of what he does until after it happens. He’s suicidal, depressed, an alcoholic, and exhausted with life…so whatever he does in the bedroom would reflect that. Leon would probably want someone to fuck him instead of the other way around, but what he says he wants vs what he really wants deep down would be considered two things. He says he wants the rough stuff and he’s detached when in reality he wants to be comforted and wants someone to treat him like a human being, not something to be discarded. He just wouldn’t vocalize that because he doesn’t think his wants or needs matter. You’d have to read him and dictate for yourself because he’s too ashamed of saying it out loud. (I will say Vendetta Leon is one of my favorite variations of him and he deserves all the love and safety his other versions get! He’s just an angst magnet lmao).

Now in DI and beyond, he has healthier relationship with things, probably more aware of his alcohol consumption and age, and possibly going to therapy. In a way, I think Leon at this age would be far more inclined to revert back to the way he was at 21, little childish, letting someone else lead because he finds safety in that. Many people believe submission assumes someone loses their power entirely, but the way I perceive it, it’s you being able to trust someone else to make decisions for you in your best interest.

So he would be very switchy as he gets he’s older, liking being submissive because that allows him to turn his brain off and let someone else take charge for him. He won’t have to make the choices for once, and either way so long as his partner feels good, he feels good.

As a dynamic character, this is just how I perceive Leon, and to me he’s more of a pleasure dom, and probably likes being dominated but it’ll take him a while to be comfortable in doing that after everything. Hence, why I want to write for sub Leon more, because I think he deserves to just feel safe in giving up control he never really had in his life.

[animehouse-moe]

Oushi and Ableism In A Sign of Affection

I want to get better at sharing more granular opinions on matters, so here's one of a few posts that's a sort of catchup from a busy weekend.

I totally get why everyone is talking nonstop about Oushi's ableism within the series- it's entirely justified and a point that's meant to be driven home. But I think a lot of people miss the remaining entirety of his character because of that.

Villains always get dismissed very quickly for their behavior, and I understand, but it means a lot of people fail to understand the purpose behind it. That's another conversation though I'm here to talk about Oushi.

Anyways, Oushi = Ableism is the thing I always see, and it's not wrong but it's abstracting a lot of the point of his character.

To him, Yuki is a delicate flower that needs protecting, and a girl that should be given everything on a silver platter.

The easiest example is that he exclusively talks to her via sign language. And I'd certainly forgive a lot of people for not quite understanding why that's ableist, so let me explain quickly with a very shallow and borderline incorrect answer.

You're in a foreign country, but you've studied their language so that you can converse with them in it, and you're pretty good with it. You try to speak with someone and they instead choose to respond in your language. Doesn't feel great, does it?

That's the point of ableism like this, it neglects the efforts of the individual to decide for them that another person should interact with them in a way that's "easiest" for them. They decide what is right and what is easy for another, and by doing so entirely discount the person that they're attempting to cater to.

But that's that, let me explain the depths beneath Oushi's ableism.

He learnt sign language specifically for Yuki, and chooses to converse entirely within sign language. What he thinks is that he's doing Yuki a favor and doing what's easiest for her. I mean, he spent all that time and effort on learning sign language just so that he could more easily interact with her.

But that point goes past Yuki because of how selfish it is. And childish, even.

Oushi's character is one that hasn't really matured past the idea of a young and insecure Yuki that he would have framed her as when they were younger. He sees her as fragile and something that should be protected, something that others would take advantage of. He's a person that can only see things through his own eyes.

And that inability to mature and view things from somewhere else is what's created this ableism. He loves Yuki, but he can't tell her and he thinks that his feelings will get across with his childish behavior. He can't say those words so he attempts to hold her within his world and keep her from slipping through his grasp.

Oushi is obviously very ableist, but the point is that his intentions are not to be. The point of his character is to illustrate the many ways that ableism arise in day to day life in forms and shapes that are not explicitly malicious. His whole character is a cautionary tale about how you interact with people, about how you should be meeting them where they set things rather than you deciding for yourself.

So yeah, A Sign of Affection remains an incredibly great story with very deep and important characters that I've been loving. They provide so much context and information to the reader/viewer that's deeply important in so many different conversations.

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

chapter viii – gust & flame

Eris Vanserra x Reader

Eris Vanserra has been a prisoner in his own home since the day he was born. He has done what he had to in order to survive and protect the few he loves. And he is playing the long game. Waiting, waiting, and waiting for the right time to make his move, to usurp his wicked father and become High Lord of Autumn Court. But things become even more complicated when a human girl drops into his life. Perhaps Eris can wait no longer to take his throne.

Word Count: 3,500+

Warnings: spoilers for entire ACOTAR series

masterlist

Eris felt the presence beside him, on the other side of the bed. 

The fact that their entrance didn’t wake him immediately just proved how exhausted he was – both mentally and physically – and how much he was still hurting from his father's torture. 

But he wasn’t alarmed. Because only one person who could get past his wards. 

Eris opened his eyes and turned to find his mother looking down at him with worry. 

He groaned and tried to close his eyes again. “It is early, mother.”

“How bad is it, Eris?” She asked. 

And though he couldn’t see her face, he knew her gaze was studying every inch of his skin that wasn’t hidden by the bedding. 

“We have both been through worse,” Eris groaned to his mother. 

This had always been both of their tactics: minimize the pain they suffered so the other wouldn’t worry. Eris was much better at it than his mother. But he had to be, to save them all. 

Eris knew she wouldn’t leave now, even if he pretended to go back to sleep. 

So, he slowly sat up. 

Though Eris’ body was covered with thick, strong muscles and scars, Leonora would always just see a little boy. 

They were both centuries old, the two of them appeared the same age – that was the fae way. But no matter how much time had passed or how much Eris matured, he would always be her boy, her firstborn, her son. 

“Who told you?” Eris muttered with irritation.

He swung his legs out from the bed and moved to his wardrobe to throw on a loose shirt. 

Usually the servants and Beron’s guards were tight-lipped about their High Lord’s abuse. Mostly because they feared what would happen to them if they were ever caught gossiping about any of it. 

“Beron came to my bedchambers last night,” Leonora answered quietly. 

Eris paused and his gaze raced to hers, silently asking what he feared. 

“Not for that,” she clarified. “He was drunk. Mostly he came to gloat. But he muttered about what happened, as if he were both bragging and deploring his heir…”

“Gloat?” Eris repeated. “Of what?” 

“I couldn’t steer him enough to give me answers. But clearly he has made a deal of sorts. Whether it’s for money or power or a bigger army, it was not clear.” 

Eris just nodded, lost in thought on what his father’s move had been. 

But when he looked back at his mother, she was still giving him that sorrowful look. 

Leonora was a prisoner, yet she took the blame for every horrible thing Beron did to her sons. She believed she should be able to protect them, even though she couldn’t even protect herself from him. 

“Mother, do not fret,” Eris sighed as he walked to her. He kneeled before her and grasped both of her hands. “I am alive.”

And she whispered, “For how much longer? When will he finally take it too far?” 

But Eris shook his head instantly. “That will not happen. It is not what we have worked for all this time.” 

Leonora’s eyes filled with tears, but she held them back. 

“I was with her,” Eris breathed out without even realizing it. 

He wanted his mother to stop worrying about him. So, his best idea was to distract her with news of his hidden, secret mate. 

It worked. 

Leonora’s eyes widened in surprise.

She blinked, somehow putting together that Eris’ visit was probably what led to Beron punishing him. 

“Please, tell me everything,” she whispered with a soft, encouraging smile. 

“She…” Eris didn’t know how she would react. “She is not just mortal, mother. She is a…a witch. But nothing like the ones I have come across in my lifetime. She is good…and kind. She could never be evil.”

“And was she hurt?” Leonora asked, remembering how panicked her son was when he came to her rooms after feeling that his mate had been in pain. 

Eris gaze darkened as he nodded. “She risked her life saving the High Lord and Lady’s son. Used magic to protect him and tried to fight off a fae infantry – all on her own.” 

A smirk appeared on Leonora’s lips. “She is brave. But I already knew she would be.” 

Eris frowned, remembering how he had spoken to Y/N. “I was terrible to her.” 

Leonora’s brows rose. “Why, my love?”

He shook his head. “We can never be, mother. It is better this way. She should not think kindly of me. We cannot be lovers. We cannot even be friends.” 

His mother sighed, but knew better than to argue with him. 

“She seems to be fitting in well at the Night Court. They have become her…friends.”

Leonora swore she saw a flash of…envy in her son’s eyes at the word ‘friends.’ Something Eris longed for, but was incapable of securing while pretending to be such a monster.

“The Shadowsinger watches over her – perhaps, too closely.”

“And how does that make you feel?” She asked. 

Eris’ jaw tensed. “It would not be the first time I’ve wanted to stab that male.” 

“And what would you do if she fell in love with another?”

He took in a deep breath. “I would be relieved. She is too good for me, mother. A life together would only bring her misery. She would be happy in Night Court. She would be free.” 

Leonora cupped her son’s face gently. “Eris, you are not the mask you wear to protect your very life. I wish I could have given you a life that allowed you to be the male you truly are.” 

–––––––––––

“While it is a protective crystal, its power fades after time. Charge it under every full moon, and its magic will remain strong,” Y/N advised. 

The customer was a female fae, who Y/N learned would be labeled as a “lesser fae” – a term she thought was rather insulting. The female looked similar to Y/N’s hosts, but had horns coming out of the corners of her forehead. 

But her smile was kind, she was polite, and she asked many questions about the shop – and that was all Y/N could ask for in a customer. 

“Thank you so much,” she said to Y/N with a beaming smile. 

Y/N waved as she left. “Of course. Have a lovely day!”

Once Emerie had told Y/N of her shop, she was inspired. Rhysand had not stopped sending her gifts after the attack on Nyx. First it was somewhat innocent: shrubs, flowers, herbs. But then it became jewelry and clothes finer than Y/N had ever seen. 

Y/N smiled as she remembered the conversation in Rhysand’s office just over a month ago:

“I have a business proposition,” Y/N had told Rhysand one day in his office at the River House. She'd politely asked Cassian to fly her there and the Illyrian refused to give them privacy, utterly curious on what Y/N needed to say to his brother. 

“I’m listening,” Rhysand answered with a smirk as he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. 

“Would you loan me a shop?”

Rhysand’s brows shot up. “A shop?”

“Yes, for my…”

“Witchcraft?” Rhysand offered with amusement. 

Y/N still winced at the word, but nodded. “I really believe I can help people – with ailments, stress, protection. All I need is a loan so I can rent a space in Velaris – something with a backyard. I will pay you back for the store space, with interest. And then we can continue to cut the profits 60/40.”

Rhysand stopped his leaning. “Alright.”

“A-A-Alright?” Y/N stuttered back. 

“Sounds like a splendid idea,” the High Lord explained. “However, you will not pay me back for the store. And the profits remain your own.”

“B-B-But…what are you getting out of it?” 

Rhysand shrugged. “You don’t seem to appreciate my gifts of jewelry and clothes. This is the first thing I’ve seen you excited about since you have stayed here. Also, my people would benefit from such a store. Velaris has fine healers, but it comes at a cost. And they are often too busy for injuries and sicknesses that are not life threatening.” 

“Rhys has more money than he knows what to do with,” Cassian fake whispered from behind her. 

“This is not a business proposition then,” Y/N tried to argue. “This is just a gift.” 

“And?” Rhys asked.

“Take the offer,” Cassian urged her. 

“Fine. But no more gifts!” Y/N pointed threateningly at the High Lord. “This is it. No more clothes. No more jewelry.”

Now Y/N had been in operation for two weeks and was shocked at how much clientele she had already received. People were curious about both her and her merchandise.

Perhaps she had to thank Cassian for drunkenly screaming at every pub he could about her store. He'd practically scared people into agreeing to stop by once it opened. Cassian was a better advertiser than any expensive posters could have been. 

As she was nearing closing, Y/N tried to start a bit of clean up. Then she heard the door ring behind her. 

“Be with you in a moment,” she called over her shoulder. 

When she returned to the front of the store, she stopped in her tracks as she saw the back of a clearly male fae. His hair that bright red she couldn’t stop thinking about. Though it was long, unlike the shoulder-length she had known.

But when the male turned around, she found that it was not Eris. 

“Have I frightened you?” He asked her. 

It was then Y/N realized his right eye was missing and in it’s place seemed to be some sort of gold substitute. His face was also scarred from what appeared to be an injury that must’ve been the reason for his missing eye. 

“N-No. I apologize. I thought you were someone else.” 

The male tilted his head at that. 

Y/N tried to recover and cleared her throat as she stood up straighter. “Can I help you find something?”

He turned back around to look at the merchandise. “Perhaps a love potion,” he muttered.

But by his tone, it was clear he was not serious. 

Y/N still played along, “You won’t find those here. But I am capable of making one – for a price.” 

He whipped around, but then relaxed as he read her teasing expression. 

“Love potions are a dangerous thing,” Y/N continued. “I wonder why people are so desperate to make someone love them…” 

Her words seem to have a negative effect on the male. And Y/N suddenly found herself feeling guilty for the jest. 

“Are you sure I can’t help with anything?” 

“No, truly. I had heard the idle chatter about the human girl and her new store in Velaris. I’ve just returned from my travels and wished to see it for myself.” 

“Well, I am sorry to disappoint,” Y/N half joked. 

He smirked at her. “You haven’t.” 

Y/N felt her face heat from the comment. Was he trying to flirt with her? 

The male walked closer, getting slightly in her space. “But I must say: I am curious as to how a mortal has found her way to Velaris…”

Y/N narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Do you always expect strangers to tell you their life story without hesitation?”

He smiled and offered his hand. “I am Lucien.”

She took it. “Just Lucien… no surname?” 

Y/N didn’t know what made her think she should push for it. Perhaps just a feeling. 

His expression seemed to darken at the question. “Lucien Vanserra, though I do not associate with my family, so I tend not to use it if I can help it.” 

Y/N’s heart dropped and her eyes widened. All humor had disappeared. “You’re Eris’ brother?” 

Lucien was no longer teasing either. “You know my brother?”

For some reason, she felt like it was the wrong thing to tell this male. 

“You are from Autumn Court…” Y/N pointed out. “Why are you in Velaris?” 

Lucien watched her for a moment before he said, “I will answer that if you explain how a mortal came to the Night Court and knows my brother.” 

Y/N took in a shaky breath, but knew it was a fair trade.

“I was captured in the mortal realms by merchants who wished to…sell us…to fae buyers.” Her eyes glazed over as she suddenly trhust back into those traumatizing memories. “When we were crossing through Autumn Court, I managed to free us. Your brother found me in the woods and brought me here.” 

“He brought you here?” Lucien urged. 

She nodded. “From what I’ve been told, Autumn Court is not safe. Rhysand and Feyre have provided sanctuary for me here in the Night Court.” 

Mentioning the High Lord and Lady so casually made Lucien’s brow quirk. It just further proved that she had a relationship with them, and a personal one. 

“How peculiar,” Lucien hummed, clearly thinking deeply on her story. 

“W-What?” Y/N asked nervously as she shifted her weight. 

“My brother is not known for being merciful. He is sadistic. My father’s pet. And he is not fond of mortals.”

Y/N had nothing to say to that. She hardly knew Eris. He barely spoke to her that one night. And it was clear her friends here were not his friends. 

However, Eris spoke so boldly about ending his father’s life and taking the throne. He didn't seem to be his father's pet at all.

But Y/N’s instincts warned her of sharing such information with his brother. 

She cleared her throat after a few awkward seconds of silence. “Your father is not a good male, I have heard.”

“That is a far nicer way to put it than I usually do,” Lucien huffed. “I have been exiled from Autumn. I do not associate with my family anymore. And in return, they all pretend I do not exist – unless we have the misfortune of crossing paths.”

“And what happens if you cross paths?”

“Oh, they usually try to kill me,” Lucien shrugged. 

Y/N’s jaw dropped slightly at that. Her family had been sacred to her. They loved and protected each other – until the very end. 

“I am an emissary for the Night Court now,” Lucien added casually. “I have an apartment on the Sidra. But with my traveling, I am rarely there.”

She gave a short nod in understanding. “How did you come to choose the Night Court as your new home?”

Y/N asked because she was in the process of doing the same. But she still felt like this…imposter while being here. It wasn’t just being a mortal and a witch in a fae realm. It was…something more. Everyone had been welcoming of her presence, yet she still felt out of place, like she was meant to be somewhere else. 

Lucien hesitated before answering, “My mate is here.” 

“Oh,” Y/N blurted out without meaning to. 

There was still so much to learn about what these faes called “mating bonds.” They sounded magical, like what mortals called soul-mates. She saw how Feyre and Rhysand were with each other. And she watched Cassian and Nesta’s relationship – not to mention, she heard it rather frequently at the House of Wind. But the most unusual thing Y/N had heard was that some mates were not actually in love – Feyre had mentioned it when discussing Rhysand’s parents in passing. 

“I can only assume you have met her,” Lucien continued. 

“Oh?”

“Elain. Feyre’s sister.” 

Y/N blinked in shock. “Elain is your mate?”

Surely the girl would have mentioned her mate, even plugging him casually into conversation. Y/N had always assumed she was unbound, different from her two sisters. 

In fact, Y/N had caught Elain carefully sneaking looks at Azriel every time they were in the same room. 

Lucien chuckled darkly at her response. “She despises me.” 

Y/N opened and closed her mouth multiple times before saying, “B-But…But she is your mate…”

Before Lucien could answer or Y/N could ask anymore questions, the door opened again, ringing the entrance bell. 

Azriel walked in, already glaring at the other male in the store. 

Y/N assumed he had either been listening or his shadows had been spying on her. 

It appeared the two males were having somewhat of a stand off. 

“Lucien,” Azriel nearly growled in greeting. 

“Azriel,” the redhead replied curtly. 

The tension between the two males was impossible for Y/N to miss.

The Shadowsinger’s gaze softened when it moved to Y/N. “Are you ready?”

Every day the store was open, either Cassian or Azriel came to take her home, flying her back to the House of Wind. Once, it was Rhysand who claimed he wanted to see if the store met his standards. But Feyre had whispered to Y/N later that Rhys was just happy that Y/N was happy, and wanted to see it for himself.

Y/N had also shared that she was considering getting herself an apartment in Velaris, once she made enough from the store to afford rent.

But Azriel had immediately shot down the idea, explaining that it was safer for her to live with them. Y/N had expected at least a couple of them to side with her and tease Azriel for being overly cautious. But no one spoke, all silently backing Ariel’s reasoning. 

Y/N nodded to the Shadowsinger. “I just have to lock up.” 

She turned back to Lucien, “I have something for you.” And she skipped to the back of the store. 

In the short time she was gone, Azriel quietly stepped further into the store, placing himself in a spot that put him between Lucien and Y/N. 

The redhead looked at the Shadowsinger as if he were silently asking, ‘Is that really necessary?’

Y/N returned with a wooden bowl, a black candle, and a pouch of what appeared to be thick-grained salt. 

“Place the candle in the middle, pour water around the candle in the bowl, sprinkle salt in. And then light the candle.” 

“What for?” Lucien asked, slightly suspicious. 

Y/N smiled softly. “Think of the emotions and thoughts that weigh you down. The candle will burn your worries and anything thing that lingers to haunt you. Your mind will feel lighter after.”

A part of her expected him to laugh. But Lucien seemed appreciative of her gesture.

He asked her, “How much do I owe you?” 

But she shook her head before he could even finish the question. “It is a gift.”

Lucien looked like he wanted to argue further. But managed to stop himself.

“Thank you,” Lucien gave a subtle bow of his head. 

Then he watched Y/N for a moment, as if she were a puzzle. It made her a little anxious, being observed in such a way. 

Azriel cleared his throat. 

“Right,” Y/N jumped slightly. “Let me go get my coat and keys.” She disappeared into a small backroom. 

“Why did my brother bring her here?” Lucien quickly asked in a hushed tone. 

Azriel remained composed. “Perhaps that is a question for your brother…” 

Lucien gave a final glare to the Shadowsinger before he walked out of the store. 

Y/N came out a moment later, with her cloak already draped over her shoulders. 

“Giving away your merchandise for free is no way to run a business,” Azriel teased. 

Y/N smirked. “You weren’t saying that when I gifted you that tea…”

“Come on,” Azriel smirked and nudged her toward the door. 

He patiently waited for her to lock up the store.  

“You know,” Y/N muttered. “Your reaction to both Vanserras is very telling, Azriel.”

But Azriel picked her up in his arms and shot into the air before he acknowledged her question. 

Y/N yelped, never getting used to the feeling of flying. Even after all this time, she had not grown to like it. Perhaps she was always meant to keep her feet on the ground. 

“I do not trust them,” Azriel finally answered when they had reached their altitude. 

“Don’t trust them or don’t like them?” Y/N challenged. 

Azriel looked down at her. “Both.” 

It was only a few minutes later that they landed carefully at the House of Wind. 

But Y/N didn’t walk or continue with Azriel.

Instead, she planted her feet. 

Azriel turned to find her giving him an expression he didn’t quite understand. 

“That is why you and Elain play your game…because she has a mate.” 

Azriel jaws flexed. “Did the wind tell you that? Or Lucien?” 

Y/N stepped toward him. “The wind has told me many other things about you – but not that. Lucien only told me that Elain was his mate. He spoke nothing of you.” 

Azriel stepped close to her and lowered his voice, “And what does your wind tell you of me?”

She looked down at her feet, suddenly losing the courage to stare into his beautiful, hazel eyes. “They say you love broken females…” 

Azriel took half a step back, caught off guard by the harsh truth she mumbled. 

“And I realized…I am not broken." Her gaze finally met his. "I am only lost.” 

She sounded…disappointed. Or was Azriel mishearing it?

Either way, the Shadowsinger was left speechless.

Y/N’s head now hung even lower than before, as she spoke to the ground, “I will see you early tomorrow for training.” 

She brushed past him to quickly retreat to her bedroom. 

And Azriel just turned to watch her go. 

––––––––

OK. OK. OK. This has been my favorite chapter to write so far.

So, please, please, please share your thoughts: comment, reblog, send a message.

What do you think of Lucien and Y/N's meeting?

How do you think Azriel actually feels about Y/N?

chapter ix

[rosesocietyy]

Brilliant people have said everything that needs to be said about this much much better and I don't got anything substantial to add but I just have to get this off my chest cause y'all I'm still in disbelief

like this is a grown ass person btw oh I simply have to laugh😭

this perfectly exemplifies literally everything cringe af and wrong with these "assigned welcomers". this is just my scapegoat but there are way worse I've seen

First of all, get a job. how, at your fossil age, do you have time to spend all day scrolling through every single iwtv related post and arguing with people who say anything even slightly damning about lestat (which mind you, is literally just objective facts about things he did). I'll dm you a McDonald's application hell I'll even put in a referral for you out of the goodness of my heart.

Second, Lestat is not a real person. he's fake, a made up character, the figment of someone's imagine, non-existent, people hating him will not affect your life in anyway shape or form. He didn't assign you as his PR agent I promise you'll live. "They'll never accept him" ok and?!?

Question, and I'm genuinely asking, is this their first time in a fandom? why is someone having a different opinion about a character they love enough to send them into hysterics like?? 13 year olds on anime twitter have a better grasp on reality that y'all do get a grip!

And like the above posts have talked extensively about, I most definitely noticed whose posts a specific bunch of them love to go under to share their dog shit "explanation" that nobody asked for. When a black person sees Louis being brutalized by his white lover what do you expect their reaction to be? oaur wow this white french slut is so pussy cunt slay period queen? "but louis is flawed too" do you hear yourself? do you listen to yourself when you speak? can you activate the barest hint of brain activity to understand why we would react differently to what we're watching than you would and that knowledge of the source material has nothing to do with it? Just because you read those shitty books and posses no empathy for black people in media doesn't mean you gain some higher understanding of "gothic romance ".

"No but the thing is you don't understand this is a gothic romance and they're supposed to be monsters and lestat has suffered saur much and he's also the real main character so you must love him" so now how exactly does that negate their point about him being an abuser? quickly! sit the fuck down and shut the fuck up when black people are sharing their thoughts on the show cause who the fuck are you fr and what convinced you that you have the right to argue with them about THEIR experiences. that tweet that said white people act like God left them in charge, yeah.

Funny enough, half the people that are so gung ho about him now didn't even fw him at all when they only read the first book. wow it's almost like you were allowed to sort out your feelings about him on your own without insects disguised as people in your mentions calling you slow for not licking his feet.

I despise so much in this fandom. From the bottom of my heart I really truly do. I don't know what I was expecting, I guess more common sense and maturity because the average age in the fandom is quite high compared to other fandoms I've been in but nah, just mfs screaming and crying bc ppl don't jump up and down and scream yipee! everytime their white fav commits abhorrent, disgusting crimes.

I was so caught up in the euphoria of an anne rice property finally being given to skilled creators who'll pick it apart and say something poignant with it that for a moment, I forgot I lived in a world where majority of its audience would sadly be the anne rice crowd.

[calibabii21]

|| Isn't The Sky Beautiful? || k.dy

pairing: model!Doyoung x stylist!reader

genre: smut, mature *mdni*

warning(s): fingering, choking, unprotected sex, squirting, pet names (ie: angel, princess, bunny, pup), singular use of "daddy", dumbification, kinda mean Doyoung, dom!Doyoung, sub!reader, bitchy reader, sexual frustration, shenanigans all around

wc: *roughly* 2.9k

a/n: some sort of continuation of work your magic. @tinypink-macaron hopefully this helps you feel better🫶🏾

disclaimer: there's no official mention of a safe word, but the predetermined safe word that will be universally used- for fics and just on the blog in general (regarding emergencies) is lighthouse.

"Ah. You guys I have to go soon." You exit the Instagram app with a sigh and toss your phone on the bed. It wasn't fair. Simply sitting there talking to a phone, yet looking so damn handsome.

Your low grumbling continues as you look through your suitcase, pulling out your black velvet silver shimmer gown for tonight's red carpet event. You'd gotten a natural face with heavy smokey eye look done earlier in the day. Who knew Milan would be the place for a 12 hour lasting beat. "Wait.." you shake you head chuckling to yourself nevermind, that was dumb.

On your way out of the door, it crosses your mind to make a quick post of your final look, but you decide against it. Whoever wanted to see you would just have to wait. Suppose it was more you trying to convince yourself than genuinely play hard to get. "Lord give me strength," you pray as the door closes behind you.

If you were given a dollar for every compliment you've received tonight- well, you wouldn't be rich, but, you wouldn't complain either. Not mention how hard you had to refrain from fangirling when Luke Hemmings greeted you with a DOUBLE cheek kiss and called you stunning. Nothing could top that. Except-

"Why are you avoiding me?" a voice startles you out of taking in the leopard print decorated room. "What reason would I have to be avoiding you," your aggressive defense has you internally wincing. "That's exactly my question," there's a hint amusement in his tone, "you look good."

Finally you bring yourself to look at him, his princely appearance far more fitting for the throne he sits on than you anticipated. Immediately your eyes narrow, "fuck he's so handsome." A bashful smile spreads across his lips, "thank you," now realizing you'd spoken your thoughts aloud, you turn away from him with a scowl. "Well, I should get going.."

Soft, manicured fingers grasp your wrist, pausing you, "did....have I done something?" You feel a little guilty for treating him this way, "not at all." Which wasn't a lie, but your unenthusiastic reassurance made him falter and release you before walking away without another word. Guess this night is over.

By the time it's almost midnight, you're out of your heels and eagerly heading to soak in your suite's spacious garden tub. As you're grabbing the last of your things to head into the bathroom, there's a knock at your door.

Your breath hitches when you see the man casually leaning against the hall wall, playing with the ring on his index finger. "Doyoung?" what is he doing here? You're certain the confusion is plastered on your face, yet he silently shows himself inside, inspecting the room as he paces. There's nothing for you to say as you drink in his well-cinched waist covered only by an onyx-rhinestone detailed blazer. Still, neither of you say anything, you observing him inspecting your suite.

"They told me to return my suit to you." Finally, an explanation. It still doesn't make sense. "To me? Okay, but..you still have it on..." your thoughts slowly gather together as he begins to circle you, "it could have been dropped off in the morning."

You can feel it. Something is going to happen. "I could have," he says open-endedly, as if sarcastically considering the seemingly absurd idea. "but then I wouldn't get a chance to handle you." An immediate scoff escapes as you feel slightly offended, "handle, me? What the fuck does that even mean??"

It is already ridiculous to think about, but to say something so.. outdated to your face? Only now do you notice that he has removed his blazer, exposing his taut torso to you. "You know, you've had the shittiest attitude since that day." You don't even have the chance to rebuttal because he's speaking again, "What? having my dick in your mouth wasn't enough?"

Stunned can't even describe your current state- not to mention aroused beyond belief. Face to face with him, you can't bring yourself to speak. "Can't speak?" your chin is grasped between his thumb and forefinger, "why have you been so mean to me baby?" You can feel your tough facade breaking "I..it's embarrassing.." he furrows his brows, "it can't be that bad."

A pregnant pause lingers as you gather the courage to fess up, "Fine.. I was upset because...you're too damn attractive and seeing all the comments on your posts and lives bothered me.." You can't even look away to hide your shame because he tightens his grip on your chin as he processes your words.

You can feel yourself overheating under the robe due to the intense embarrassment you feel. Unexpectedly, boisterous laughter erupts, startling you, "That's your reason for avoiding me? That's so fucking stupid." With the way he's doubled over, it must be really fucking funny.

He's suddenly standing upright, centimeters from your face "you're damn right it's fucking funny." oh shit, you did it again. "I've been racking my brain trying to figure what I did- turns out you were just too jealous of my fans to have a proper conversation with me."

His voice becomes soft spoken as his right hand caresses your cheek, "if you wanted my attention, all you had to do was ask," your lashes can't help but flutter as your lips brush one another's. Kisses planted on each cheek to emphasize his words, "if you want," kiss, "my cock," kiss. "all you have to do," forehead kiss, "is ask." The words whispered so lightly against your lips you can't help the moan that slips.

"But you didn't." He pulls away from you and looks at you with mock disappointment. "Closed mouths don't get fed, Angel." Your eyes are quite literally glossing over from the overwhelming want you have for this man. "What do you want?" He's stalking toward you, backing you until the back of your legs make contact with the mattress. Again, silence. Afraid that if you speak, sobs will come out.

"Do you want me to fuck you?" It's rhetorical, yet you find yourself nodding. There's nowhere to go as he hovers over your seated body. "Look at me, Angel," his hand is at the side of your neck, feeling your pulse race as you tilt your head back to meet his eyes. His beautiful, sparkling eyes.

"You want me to make you my pretty little bitch?" Instantly you're whimpering and tears are welling in your eyes again. "Ohh. You like it when I call you that hm? My pretty. little. bitch." As if seeing you further in a new light, Doyoung looks at you with an enamored smile. "Open your mouth, baby." You part your lips enough to fully extend your tongue. "Swallow it all, like a good little slut." Your eyes close as you whimper blissfully, swallowing his saliva with your own.

It's known to you that you aren't into pet play, however, you find yourself eager to please him like an obedient puppy. "Please, fuck me," you whisper with such a sinful innocence it almost makes him lose his composure and take you right then and there. "Not quite yet sweetheart." Then he's walking across the room, back over to his blazer, re-placing it back on his body, "you go ahead and take your bath. I'll see you in the morning." And just like that, he's gone.

He said he'd see you in the morning, but he had you all the way fucked up if he thought you were dragging this out any longer. After thirty minutes of the most frustrating bath you've ever taken, you're marching to his hotel room and banging on the door. By the time he opens the door, you're seething, "how dare you-" before you could even finish, he's yanked you into his room and pinned you against the door.

"How dare I? How dare you." You're sputtering and blinking at the sudden change in roles, his half naked body short-circuiting your brain, "w-what do you mean?" He scoffs with a chuckle as he looks you up and down. "You come banging on my door- at nearly one in the morning, mind you- covered in only this tempting robe, your freshly bathed skin gleaming at me-" his hand beside your head curls into a fist as if to instill restraint. "Missed my touch that much, did you?" he says more to himself than you.

"Is this what you came here for?" he's now lowered the tone of his voice. "Did you come to seduce me?" his featherlight traces from your neck to the collar of your robe leave goosebumps on your skin as he begins removing the thick article of cloth. "Did you come here, knowing, I would fuck you properly? Put you in your place?"

It takes everything in you not to sink to your knees and suck him dry. "Answer me, Princess." You knew he wouldn't let you anyway, that's too undeserving a reward. The silence must have gone on too long because, next thing you know, he's guiding you to the couch by the nape of your neck forcing you bent over the arm.

His crotch is flush against your lace clad sex, hands massaging your ass before landing a harsh slap making you jolt forward. "I don't take too kindly to being ignored." You notice, not only the bite in his tone, but his lack of use of a pet name. "I'm sor-RY" your pitch hikes at the sudden sharp stinging of his palm on your skin, "I don't want any apologies. I only want to hear 'yes sir's' and 'thank you's' from you."

You've never seen this side of him, but you can't deny that you are enjoying it. "Y-Yes sir." If you were looking to be praised for your obedience, it unfortunately never came. Not a sound comes out of your mouth as he continues kneading your flesh. It isn't until you feel his breath against your core that you become fidgety, squeezing your thighs together.

"Oh, is this where you want me, Beautiful?" you wordlessly nod as his fingers trace the outline of your lips, "I need words, Gorgeous." Searching your brain for words you move your hips closer to his face "yes, please sir." He gives your ass a pat of praise at your obedience and hooks his index finger onto your panties to pull them aside, "mmm," you hear him taking in the scent of your arousal, "look how pretty and puffy your pussy is," he slips his first and second digits into your slit, "glistening just for me isn't it?"

His tone, so soft and condescending, paired with his long, slender fingers has you tensing with anticipation of climax. "Already? I've barely gotten started baby." As if emphasizing his statement, he plants an open mouthed kiss on your clit, immediately sucking it into his mouth. "Oh fUCK" you grind your heat back onto his face, "fuck fuck fuck, don't stop," your demand makes him increase the speed of his fingers.

"Aww, look at the desperate bunny thinking she's in charge." You let out an incoherent whine as you feel the pressure building in your tummy. "please please please can I cum?" He expresses his satisfaction with your response by rapidly lapping at your clit, "of course you're gonna cum baby, and you're not going to stop until I tell you."

His fingers curl inside of you and you're tipping over the edge- rising on your toes, nails digging into the couch cushions. "Breathe." it isn't until the firm command and a strong smack to your ass that you inhale deeply. "Oh fuck, I'm-" "Again." And you do. The orgasm becoming so intense as he removes his fingers from inside you, and rips your thong before using your slick to swiftly rub your clit. "come on, Angel, ride it out."

The high pitched sounds coming from you are unrecognizable to your own ears. You soon find out why as liquid spurts out of you and coats Doyoung's satin boxers. "Ohhohoho baby. Look at what a mess you're making." But you're too busy muttering thank you's for it to register in your mind, even when you see said puddle as you are guided to and shoved back onto the queen sized mattress.

Everything is happening in slow motion, but you're snapped out of it the minute you blink and see a fully nude Doyoung. Your eyes are zoned in on his beautiful cock- tip gleaming with precum, before letting them trail up his torso to meet his heady gaze. "God, you're such a fucking tease." He climbs onto the bed, hovering, drinking in the visual of you.

"You look so gorgeous, legs all spread and patiently waiting for me," can't help but beam and spread your legs wider at such high praise. "And I know you'll take my cock so well, won't you?" "Yes, daddy," you whimper and nod as he aligns himself with your entrance, his girth stretching you the perfect amount, "Ohh fuck, Jesus, it's like your body was made just for me."

His thrusts start off slow as to allow you a chance to adjust, but also to save him from premature nut. "Fuck, baby, you gonna cum already?" You nod as your brows furrow, "mhmm." He speeds up his hips, thrusting them in a 'J' motion that has the tip of his length continuously press against a spot within you that no later has you spasming and moaning uncontrollably.

A hand semi-tightly enwraps your throat, "F-F-Fuuuuucckkk," you drag out as your mouth drops open and your tongue naturally lolls out. "Look at my little cock-drunk princess. So dumb and fucked out, and it's only the third orgasm," he punctuates his mean words by allowing a dribble of saliva to run from his mouth, to yours. "Such a dirty little angel, squeezing around me at such filth." But that only makes you squeeze his dick more, nails digging into the flesh of his tight back.

You can feel him getting closer to his high when his thrusts become more powerful, "Princess, I'm so close," a warning or simple declaration you do not know, but you're relieved you're not the only one near climax. "Shit- fuck baby, your greedy cunt is milking me so much." The feeling of his hot cum releasing inside of you has your own juices spouting out as he bottoms out. "I knew you could take me well," but your eyes are fluttering closed as you're catching your breath.

By daybreak, you're unsure of if you passed out from exhaustion, or the intensity of your final orgasm. You feel a little sore, but your spirits are higher than you'd ever thought possible. A chuckle can't help but leave you, not me being dickmatized after one fuck. Hopefully the man doesn't mind.

Speaking of- you look around the room to see him nowhere to be found. putting on the zebra print robe you see lying around, you search throughout the room to find him out on the balcony. "Good mor-" you immediately slap a hand over your mouth when you see he's in the middle of an Instagram live. "Have any of you ever been to Milan?" he's addressing his fans, but he's looking at you, "everything here is so gorgeous."

His eyes smile as he looks you over and discreetly beckons you over. The exaggerated shake of your head has him rolling his eyes. He motions for you to crawl under the table. You look at him skeptically before throwing caution to the wind and getting on your knees beneath the transparent table.

Without any further acknowledgment from him, you- as quietly as possible, undo his pants button and zipper. It is as hard as it sounds. Both his dick and not getting caught. You release his hardness from its confines and bring it to your lips. His sharp intake of breath and attempt at covering his groan that was so clearly heard boosts your ego a bit. It is now your mission to make him slip up on live, so you waste no time taking him into your mouth and giving him slow, strong sucks as one of your hands gently fondles with his scrotum.

"Ah, 난 좆됐어" you understand that as a swear word and give yourself internal praise. He brings one of his hands underneath the table and pushes the back of your head so that you take him in deeper, "Mmm-" almost lost in the pleasure he snaps himself back to reality and reads the comments. "I look blissful? Haha, thank you?" He must be close with the way looks down at you with a quick lip bite as you deep-throat him. His hand now holding you against him as he releases down your throat.

Although his deep breaths prevent him from making noise, his head still rolls back to rest against the railing as he chants and praises you in his mind. "Dear Jesus, give me strength," he whispers a prayer to himself before sitting back upright caressing your cheek as he reads the incoming comments, "am I in pain? No, I am quite..satisfied," his innuendo is nowhere near subtle, but his fans seem to eat it all up. "Isn't the sky beautiful?"

*mdni banner made by @cafekitsune*

[pochipop]

can i get a bakugou abc headcanon post? & can i be your 🦩 anon if it's not taken? thank u !

＃BNHA !! ♡ — BAKUGO ALPHABET HEADCANONS.

#. synopsis! — a bakugo headcanon for every letter of the alphabet .

#. characters! — bakugo .

#. warnings! — none .

#. alt accounts! — @ddollipop (nsfw) @yyolkchi (reblog/spam) .

#. others! — navigation & masterlist .

A: affection. | are they affectionate? how do they show affection?

Katsuki is fairly affectionate when the two of you are alone together, which may be surprising to many. He enjoys physical contact with his partner, even if he's hard pressed to admit that aloud. He tends to be more handsy when he's sleepy, grasping for warmth and comfort, especially on chilly nights. In his day-to-day life, his affection can range from a quick kiss on the crown of your head when he passes by you in the halls, to cuddling sessions in either of your dorm rooms when it's just the two of you. Bakugo likes it when you visibly lower your guard around him, slink into his side, and rest your body against his. He's a sucker for you.

B: bizarre. | something strange they do or a weird quirk they have with or without their partner?

Katsuki refuses to put his weights away. He always insists that it's for quick and easy access to them, but you've discreetly chalked it up to laziness on his part. It's his dorm, so he can do whatever he wants, and you don't tend to complain; —but it would be nice to not have to trip over weights when you go to pay him a visit.

C: comfort. | are they good at comforting their partner? how do they do it?

Katsuki isn't a very good candidate if you need the type of comfort that is coddling or very empathetic. He doesn't exactly feel comfortable being open about emotions other than anger; and because of that, his means of comfort can seem a bit insensitive to some. However, if you're in need of some good advice and some solid tough love, he's not a bad option. Bakugo might not always word things the best, but he's a surprisingly adept listener, and it's easy to get lost ranting to him (especially when he makes no effort to cut you off.) If you just need to get some frustrations off your chest, he's great with that, though. He'll be sure to throw in affirmative comments and engage with your energy levels appropriately.

D: domestic. | how do they feel about settling down? do they cook/clean?

Katsuki feels he's way too young to think about settling down in that manner, so he avoids seriously considering it. Right now, his heart is set on becoming a hero, and you certainly don't want to be any sort of hindrance in that. Though, he has thought about a future where the two of you are older and more mature, still together, maybe living in a place of your own. As for cooking and cleaning, he can do both, albeit one much better and with less complaints than the other. He's not half bad in the kitchen, and he makes some pretty tasty dishes. Nothing too fancy, but it's always delicious, so the level of elegance really isn't of any concern. When it comes to cleaning, Bakugo isn't the biggest fan of it, but he'd rather clean than be in a dirty environment. He's a quick organizer, and he tends to be very good about cleaning up after himself (unless that involves putting his weights away, apparently.)

E: ending. | if they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?

Katsuki would end the relationship in person, and it would be one of the few times you'd see him fully vulnerable; stripped bare to his core. He'd likely shed tears and offer up some form of apology but wouldn't ask to be friends. If he happened to see you in the future though, he wouldn't actively avoid you. He'd say hello and keep it lowkey, but his heart would ache inside.

F: future. | do they think about the future? how does it look?

Katsuki does think about the future sometimes, but he chooses not to put much weight into his fantasies. He'd like to share that future with you as long as you both get along well, so almost anything will be fine by him, really. It's not as if he'd want to live in a giant mansion or buy himself his own island, after all. He's fairly content with living a normal life aside from hero work. But, who knows, maybe those feelings will change one day, and Bakugo is open to said change.

G: gifts. | how often do they give their partner gifts? what kind of gifts are they?

Katsuki doesn't shower you with presents by any means, but he likes to spoil his partner every once in a while. A stuffed animal here, an oddly specific gift tailored perfectly to you and your interests there. . . It's only natural, he thinks, to want to give someone you love nice things.

H: honesty. | are they honest with their partner? do they keep secrets?

Katsuki is honest, but does keep some things to himself. He's gotten better about being a more effective communicator, however, he still feels that not all things are meant to be shared. It's only natural that he would want to keep some feelings to himself, but he does tend to be honest about them a while after he's resolved them or learned how to make peace with them. Bakugo does his best to be open, although it can be a struggle at times. Be patient with him; he's not used to being so candid.

I: i love you. | how fast do they say the L word? who says it first?

Katsuki feels and acknowledges it long before he says it but isn't incredibly unlikely to say it first. It could be a 50/50 chance depending on your personality, and even if you were to be the one to say it first, it wouldn't pull him off kilter. He would say it back confidently, heart beating a mile a minute. He wouldn't lose his composure, but on the inside, he'd be melting into a pile of lovesick goop.

J: jealousy. | do they get jealous? does it show?

Katsuki can be quite jealous at times, —not to any fully detrimental lengths, but it might work him up a tad more than normal. He doesn't like it when other guys eye you down as if you're some prize to be stolen away; like you're fresh meat and they're some kind of predator. His trust in you is solid and unwavering, but he doesn't trust others to keep their hands off. You can handle yourself, and Katsuki knows and acknowledges as much, but that wouldn't stop him from stepping in. Usually, his jealousy settles by the time you're alone with him again. A little bit of personal affection calms him down more than enough.

K: kisses. | what kind of kisses do they like to give/receive?

Katsuki likes all sorts of kisses, —it really just depends on the time, place, and sometimes his mood. Usually, anything goes as far as he's concerned. Still, he particularly enjoys mouth to mouth kisses where you'll let him nibble at your bottom lip a little. Bakugo also likes to press his lips to the crown of your head, and it often proves to be his most innocently affectionate gesture. As for receiving, again, typically anything goes depending on the time and place. He must admit though, he's impartial to shoulder kisses because they feel intimate to him, albeit not for any reason in particular.

L: likes and dislikes. | favorite and least favorite things about being in the relationship?

Katsuki's favorite and least favorite part about being in the relationship is the emotional aspect of it all; —a double edged sword for him in every sense of the phrase. He really likes having someone to lean on, and he even likes it when you lean on him in return. Unfortunately, there are times when he just doesn't have the ability to give you what you might need, and there are times when he can't bring himself to accept what he needs either. He has a lot of emotional baggage that he doesn't want to dump all over you, but he wants to let you in. Katsuki's complicated emotional state and how it relates to you and your relationship with him is simultaneously one of his most favorite things about loving you, and something that brings him copious amounts of dread.

M: mornings. | how do they spend mornings with their partner?

Katsuki isn't a happy-go-lucky kind of morning person, but that's to be expected. He's not really the happy-go-lucky type any time of the day anyway. When it comes to spending said mornings alongside you, he's pretty much the same as he always is; —if a bit clingier until he manages to wake himself up fully. At times, he can be a little grumpy if he doesn't sleep very well, but he's quick to move past it once he's pulled himself out of bed. Don't count on him to cook in the morning though. . . If you want breakfast, you'll either have to go out and drag him along with you or make something yourself.

N: nicknames. | what do they call their partner?

Katsuki isn't a fan of the overly sweet, mushy type of pet names. He tends to settle for "babe" more often than not, but melds it down a bit more to "baby" when he's sulking over something, is looking for attention, or is feeling tired. He might call you "doll" every once in a while, and "sweetheart" isn't off the list completely, although it would be much rarer than the others.

O: out of character. | what is something people would be hard pressed to believe they do/enjoy in a relationship?

Katsuki can be incredibly romantic. Suit and tie, candlelit dinner, dressing himself up and putting on his very best face for you. Pulling your seat out for you, bringing you flowers, —the whole package and more. It's usually for special occasions (like an anniversary or your birthday,) but that side of him certainly exists, and it's lovely to see every now and again. Plus, tuxedos look really good on him.

P: pda. | do they like public displays of affection? if so, what types?

Katsuki isn't typically the biggest fan of public displays of affection, but he doesn't tend to mind smaller things after you've been in the relationship for a while. He'll place his hand on your thigh under the desks in class, will offer you a quick kiss on the crown of your head in the halls when he passes you by, and he's not opposed to holding your hand or throwing his arm around you in the lunchroom or something like that. More overt stuff, however, he would much prefer to keep behind closed doors.

Q: quirk. | what is something they do that their partner finds cute or endearing?

Katsuki mumbles to himself a lot, a habit that he's had since the day you met him. It's not something you pay much mind to anymore considering how normal it feels, but it's cute nonetheless.

R: rough times. | arguments? how often and in what manner?

Katsuki can be fairly argumentative. He's stubborn and he doesn't like to be wrong. However, he's definitely come a long way and has since made active efforts to communicate his feelings and issues more appropriately and effectively. Bakugo isn't perfect, —he can be loud, and sometimes he says things he doesn't mean in the heat of the moment. Even so, he's gotten a lot better about such things and you have no doubt he'll continue to grow. He apologizes when it's needed, accepts apologies you offer fairly easily, goes out of his way to fix issues before they really begin, and though he's far from perfect, so are you, and you've accepted that you're each just doing the best you can for one another.

S: sensitive. | what’s a sore spot for them that their partner should steer clear of?

Katsuki doesn't want to talk about his relationship with Midoriya. It's complicated, and there's a lot of feelings there that he still hasn't worked through. They know one another better than anyone else does, but the bitter air of rivalry that hangs between them (mostly from Bakugo's end) is a sore spot. He'll open up about it eventually, but it's best to leave that subject be until he comes to you about it first.

T: thrill. | do they need surprises in a relationship, or do they prefer a routine?

Katsuki doesn't mind some surprises every now and again, but routine is good for him for the most part. He's not quite accustomed to relationships yet, and because of that, he often lacks a sense of full security. Some excitement here and there may do him well, but the majority of the time, Bakugo would prefer consistency. His hero training gives him more than enough thrill to survive on anyway, even if he likes to pretend that it's all a piece of cake.

U: unacceptable. | what is something they cannot tolerate in a relationship? what is something they would never do?

Katsuki could not be in a relationship with someone who purposely pushes his buttons. He's easy to set off, and if his partner were to consistently take advantage of that for amusement, he would have to remove himself from that situation. Just as well, Katsuki would never purposefully neglect his lover's needs, even if he were angry with them. He knows what it's like to be left alone to shoulder what feels like the weight of the world, and he can't see himself ever subjecting his significant other to anything of the sort.

V: vanity. | how concerned are they about their looks? are they insecure about them?

Katsuki thinks he's pretty damn attractive. He doesn't put too much weight into his appearance, —but he's not insecure about his looks and he doesn't really care what anyone else has to say about them. If they don't like how he looks, they can put their eyes somewhere else, and that's that. Still, Bakugo isn't exactly vain. Confident, sure, but when it comes to his appearance, he's not one to gloat for the most part. He's more apt to flaunt his strength than anything else.

W: wild card. | random headcanon?

Katsuki likes being massaged, —specifically by you. Hero training is by no means easy work, so he often finds himself feeling stiff or sore in certain areas. Offer him a massage every now and again, especially for his shoulders. (Throw in a few kisses to the very same area and he'll be putty in your hands for the rest of the evening.)

X: xoxo. | how often do they hug/kiss their significant other?

Katsuki's level of affection fluctuates. Some days, he's all but wrapped around your finger, —wanting to stay in bed and just feel your warmth seep into him. Other times, Bakugo would like more space and less contact, but still appreciates affection in passing. Something small every day is his minimum, but on a typical day, he'll offer up a few types of kisses, maybe a hug or two, and will hold your hand for a while. He doesn't mind initiating, but if you'd like more than what he's given on a certain day, test the waters a bit and if he proves to be receptive, dive in headfirst. He likes to offer up the things you want.

Y: yearning. | how do they feel when their partner is away?

Katsuki is fine by himself, but does miss you a great deal. He likely won't express that aloud, but it's not hard to figure out if you know him. When his mind drifts, it drifts to you, and he'll be sure to send you a text or give you a call to check in. Hearing your voice over the phone is enough to stave him off, but he's really happy when you're back; even if he tries to play it cool.

Z: zzz. | how do they sleep with their partner? how do they sleep alone?

Katsuki hogs the bed whether you're with him or not, but he tries to temper himself when you spend the night. He likes it when you cling to him, and sleeps with no blankets when you do because he gets enough warmth from your body. When he's alone, he sleeps however feels most comfortable at any given time. He takes advantage of the open space and sprawls himself out most of the time.

[admirableadmiranda]

The novel ending reeks of codependency. In CQL, we see that WWX needs time and space to process everything that’s happened to him! He needs an opportunity to just live and experience the world and become reacquainted with, after being gone for over decade. Once the mystery is resolved, he is vulnerable and without a strong sense of who he even is and how he fits into the world now. He has LWJ to go back to, but he can’t build his entire sense of identity around LWJ, and that relationship can’t be his only source of happiness and fulfillment. And he genuinely seems to like exploring and having new experiences and meeting new people! It’s a good way for him to get a sense of who he is now. It’s true that WWX has a lot of insecurity and neurosis re: feeling deserving of care and affection, and I’m not claiming that he’s completely resolved those issues (or any of his issues). But I think there’s a lot more trust between him and LWJ, and that he’s considerably more secure in that relationship, by the end of the show. Post-resurrection there are a lot of scenes where he’s a lot more mature in his interactions with LWJ, a lot more capable of grasping LWJ’s boundaries, and a lot better at tempering his teasing with sincerity. So I don’t take his self-discovery journey as the same sort of destructive impulse towards isolation that he displays after his stint in the Burial Mounds. I think it’s a demonstration, rather, of the trust he’s built in LWJ, and in the fact that he doesn’t need to constantly be demanding attention for LWJ to still wait for him and be there for him when he’s ready to come back. And it’s being able to clearly communicate his needs and intentions in a given moment, rather than just shutting the other person out. from LWJ’s perspective - it’s so important that he’s able to let WWX go! LWJ is also incredibly neurotic and also feels that he’s not deserving of love. And he grows up without any models of what healthy relationships look like - his parents’ relationship is the only framework he has, as evidenced by him taking inspiration from that in wanting to hide WWX at Cloud Recesses. But he quickly realizes that that’s not what he wants, and that he doesn’t want to force WWX to do anything. When WWX comes back to life, he takes care of him and gives him gifts not because he’s expecting anything in return, but because he loves him and wants to make him happy and show him kindness when so few people have. But it’s important, I think, for him to be able to spend time apart from WWX, to give him the space he needs, without seeing that as just another sacrifice that he’s making. When he sees WWX off on his self-discovery journey, he’s in a place where he can start to trust that WWX will come back, and that he has massive significance for WWX even when WWX doesn’t have to depend on him for emotional and material support.   Being able to maintain distance from each other, and maintain their own separate identities and relationship, with each one still having confidence in the strong foundation they’ve built together, is very important.

Not only is it too long didn’t read, it’s too long most of your message doesn’t show up in the reply.

Anon, Wei Wuxian does not need to discover himself or reconnect with the world in order to be happy before he can do anything. He knows exactly what he wants, a husband.

Also, codependent? Really? Have you ever met a married couple? I’m a married woman and I can attest that they are fine. They have a honeymoon that’s just the two of them, that’s completely normal. They go out and do things together, but there’s also times when it’s just one of them going out.

Like CQL’s sad, censored ending all you like, where Wei Wuxian wanders off because Lan Wangji decides to take up politics over being with him, but I’m gonna take my novel ending and happy boys any day.

[junggunz]

Haii hope all is well and you are healthy- I was wondering if you would like to do a headcanon on how gun or goo (or Jake n Samuel :3 which ever you prefer) would react to knowing/and/or finding out their s/o was abused? And maybe having to meet their abuser? If ur comfortable with that have a good day~

okay lowkey i was thinking all week about whether or not i wanted to to have this blog focus around strictly nsfw h0rny/simp/chaos vibes or be open to sfw/more emotionally heavy topics because i know a lot people are able to find comfort in it. and this is kind of helped make up my mind (not because it was a bad request or anything but simply because i have a hardest time being serious when it comes to these 2D men)

soooo we're gonna keep it sexy and lighthearted over here from now on.

HOWEVER, i will answer this since i never really stated what type of content i prefer to write. and just because you were really sweet uwu.

anywho, prologue over; i answer the ask is under the cut since this is a triggering topic.

[tw for lengthy discussion of abuse.]

first off, corporal punishment from parents and teachers was/is a normal thing in korea. it was only very recently that there was legislative ban on it. so with that in mind, depending on who your abuser was would have the most impact how each of these guys react.

all four of these guys have flaws that could easily be contributed to some sort emotional abuse in their formative years.

if i'm remembering correctly, samuel's childhood was tough mostly because other kids were picking on him for not having a dad but with the way his mom reacted to him asking about his dad, i feel like she would also contribute to the physical abuse (the short temper probably runs in the family) with that being said, i don't think he would be very sympathetic toward you because he's probably someone who's like "my shitty home life is what made me wanna go out and better myself and make money."

assuming that the two of you are in a romantic relationship when you mention that your ex was abusive to you, samuel would probably have hard time trying to comfort you or console you. he has a lot of issues and being in a situation like this is probably new and uncomfortable for him but he does listen to you talk about the issue. though he might not say much, i feel like he would make mental notes of what you say so he doesn't repeat those behaviors since those who have been abused in the past seem to be more prone to continuing the patterns of abuse when they aren't aware of or haven't processed how the abuse they experienced has affected them.

gun and goo would only be a smidge more sympathetic toward you if your parent was your abuser. both of them would share the attitude of "going through that made you stronger, right?" along with the fact they simply see physical abuse from parents as a cultural norm.

if your abuser was an ex...once again, i think gun and goo would be pretty like minded in this aspect. they would probably wanna kill your ex on sight... and it would be fun for them. listening to you speak about your abuse is where i think these two would differ. goo would find the serious conversation very unpleasant. he would listen to you because he cares but once you finish speaking, he would be quick to try and lighten the mood. on the other hand, gun would approach the topic with more logic and reasoning; maybe suggesting that you speak to a therapist rather than someone as fucked up as him.

out of the four, jake would be the most understanding and best at dealing with the issue but he's not perfect. plus the bar was basically on the ground with the other three tbh. jake is probably going to be the one who is the most comfortable talking about these matters and letting you cry on his shoulder if you need to since he can't offer any solid advice. talking about abuse from a parent with him would be at least a little comforting because he seems like he's matured enough to get a grasp of how his upbringing has impacted him. even though he's more sympathetic than the other three, when it comes to talking about abuse from parents he seems like his attitude toward it would be something like "yeah, it sucks that we had to be raised like that, huh?"

jake would have a harder time keeping his cool if he found out that your ex was your abuser though. seeing his mom not being treated the best probably affected him a lot and the idea of very intentionally harming someone you love is abhorrent to him.

anywhooo dear anon thank you for this thought provoking ask !!! 💓💓💓

to any of my dear followers reading this, if you're going through any type of issues, know that you don't have to go through it alone. im not a therapist or anything (yet?) but i am willing to listen to you vent if you need to. however i am best suited to just be someone to help cheer you up 💖

[proudfreakmetarusonniku]

couldn’t sleep much but brain revised an old au while I was briefly dreaming.

basically, the idea is that dream is the last of a very ancient shapeshifting race and he lures in human prey by mimicking the sounds of distressed humans. but bc he’s a sentient being who hasn’t had any social interaction since he was basically the equivalent of a child he’s deeply lonely.

he lures tommy into the woods but decides not to eat him and instead keep him- pragmatically, to learn to mimic the sound of a human juvenile in distress better, but mostly because he’s desperate for any sort of companionship. he keeps tommy trapped in an old ruin, preventing him from leaving with physical force, and alternating between causing harm seemingly at random to mimic the distress, and being incredibly clingy. he brings tommy “gifts”- both things he found in the forest like flowers, gems, and fruits, and the contents of any bags his human prey have, and tommy finds accepting them tends to mean he’s in the aggressive mood less.

tommy initially thinks dream is some weird wild animal, basically. a blatantly supernatural one, with its ability to slip in and out of darkness and it’s tendency to transform into an exact duplicate of him and mimic his every move, but he assumes it’s basically a very confused animal that for some reason won’t let him leave but lashes out in fear. being very fond of animals, tommy views dream with a lot of sympathy despite basically being held captive and tries his best to be kind to him, in the way you are with a wounded animal, bc he assumes that’s basically what dream is.

but as time goes on it’s clear dream is more intelligent than that. he starts mimicking tommy’s speech and tommy, finding it amusing, starts talking to him… and is very surprised when dream quickly picks up a rudimentary grasp on english (taking on the name dream as one of the first words it learns, after tommy calls the situation a bad dream- he doesn’t learn what the word means until after he decides to call himself that). tommy initially is excited, hoping that he can explain to dream that he has a family and a life and needs to go home, but it very quickly becomes clear that dream simply doesn’t care.

he sees himself as above humanity- though in his thousands of years of isolation, he’s come to be very admiring of how they never seem to be alone, and through his interactions with tommy he’s decided he’s fond of them, in the way humans are fond of pets. he’s deeply curious, but has no sense of morality, being both unaware and uncaring of the concepts of good and evil, only discovery. he’s incredibly childish- having had no social interaction since he was a child- but he pretends to be aloof and mature when he very clearly isn’t and gets defensive when it’s pointed out. and, above all else, he’s lonely, in a way that leads to him being viciously possessive no matter how miserable it makes his only friend, because he can’t bear the thought of being alone ever again. he misses his kin and sees tommy as somewhat of a replacement- not exactly in a way that maps onto any human concept (dream’s species reproduced asexually and as such didn’t have any concept of parents or siblings or anything) but he allows tommy to map it onto them anyway.

tommy is obviously pissed, and refuses to play nice knowing that dream isn’t simply doing this out of ignorance but callousness and a twisted curiosity. he’s angry, fighting back in whatever ways he can- not physically, dream is way stronger than him, but he refuses any gifts, refuses to eat unless physically forced to, is very verbally aggressive and angry, and constantly attempts to escape. dream is genuinely concerned- he doesn’t understand why tommy would be upset, and he doesn’t want to lose him, and nothing he does seems to fix it. he tries being nicer, and he tries being crueller, and tommy doesn’t go back to ““normal””.

eventually he gets so frustrated that he hurts tommy badly, and immediately regrets it- not because he cares about hurting tommy, he finds it amusing, but because he’s worried he’ll die. desperate, he shifts into the guise of one of the humans he’s ate to drop tommy off at a hospital, deciding he’d rather have tommy alive and avoiding him back at home rather than dead, if only because tommy being alive means he might potentially be able to force him to come back someday.

tommy’s incredibly surprised at the whole thing, but at first he just is happy to be home, but he finds himself struggling to adjust after almost a year of captivity. his foster parents aren’t cruel, but they are distant, and he has no friends, and he finds that being alone for more than a few hours makes him feel anxious now. he’s not used to the richness or amount of food in civilisation, and it makes him feel ill. he’s heavily behind on schoolwork, not that he even bothered in the first place, and he’s defensive and always ready for attack. he finds himself unable to explain where he’s been, and can’t get any help for his trauma. he doesn’t feel at home here, and while he hates dream, at least things made sense there. civilisation feels wrong and confusing. too loud and too crowded.

eventually, though, he makes a friend. his names tubbo- an odd name, for sure, but for an equally odd person, and as far as tommy’s concerned that makes him the only sane man in the town. he tinkers with electronics and lets tommy copy off his homework if tommy plays smash with him later. they bond so close it’s almost like they were friends their whole lives- neither have a great homelife, though not a bad one necessarily, and both have issues preventing them from otherwise making much friends, so they instantly get really close. for a while, everything seems perfect, and tommy can almost write off his time in those woods as a bad dream.

and then one night, he wakes up to hear tubbo’s scream echoing.

he instantly knows what’s going on, but he can’t ignore it if there’s even the slightest possibility tubbo is alive. he rushes into the woods, and of course, dream is there, with an injured tubbo he lured in. dream is ecstatic when he talks about how he’s been watching tommy and found a way to get him to come back, entirely oblivious to how terrified, upset, and angry both tommy and tubbo are. he says he’ll let tubbo go… if, and only if, tommy agrees to stay. and of course, reluctantly, he does.

tommy hates at how relieved going back to the awful routine makes him feel. he’s not angry, anymore, just… numb. not even sad, numb. but dream is overjoyed, and starts seeing tommy as… not exactly equal, but closer to it than anyone else. he starts taking tommy to the ruins of where his people used to live and explaining all he knows. there were many secrets they had that dream hadn’t learnt yet, as he was little more than a child when humanity fought back and annihilated them. but they once ruled over humans, treating them like servants at best and livestock at worst, and they knew many rituals that could shift reality like they can shift their bodies. dream wants to figure out two most of all- how to create a child, and immortality. one to repopulate his species, and one to keep tommy alive forever. he’s noticed that he’s different- taller and just a little older looking at seventeen than the form dream has of him at sixteen when he first met him, and it greatly distresses him to be reminded that tommy ages and dies unlike him.

meanwhile, tubbo starts visiting the old ruins- at first trying to sneak in, but after finding that dream is overjoyed at the idea of another human visiting instead of angry like he predicted he drops the secrecy. he and tommy stay friends, and tubbo trades him info on the outside world and stuff dream can’t consistently get from his hunts and the forest. at first it’s confusing because tommy and dream in tommy’s form were very hard to tell from each other, so dream starts shifting into a form somewhere between tommy and his monstrous true form. dream tries to befriend tubbo, but gives up after finding him far less interesting than his tommy, and generally ignores him except to curiously mimic him and observe him unblinkingly. when asked why, dream says he needs to understand humans for when he’s able to bring his people back, and they’re the ones in charge again, except he’s not gonna be cruel like them- humans are far too precious for that! no, he’s going to help guide them. and sure, he’ll eat a few of them, and hurt a whole lot more, but he still genuinely doesn’t get why that would upset anyone. at this point, tommy struggles to, either. it’s routine, now, the scars coating his body and the bones scattered in the ruins.

idk just. a cool au ig.

[ruiniel]

Another way - VII

Summary: what if someone in the 21st century stumbled upon this stranger during a turbulent storm, narrowly avoiding running them over, and what's more they can't understand a word coming out of their mouth.

Pairing: Alucard x Reader

Rating: Mature / 18+ only

Tags: explicit language, depressive character, character-meets-world, modern AU, fantasy, more to be added

VII.

The alarm rings, humming on the nightstand with a vengeance, and dawn darts through your eyelids via the open blinds you forgot to shut the previous evening. Groaning, you reach for the phone.

To your credit, you were distracted, staying by a distraught someone who kept pacing through the room, back and forth and back again for so long you thought he’d run a hole through the floor.

You still don’t know what to do about him, and the thought hounds you constantly, like a swarm of insects buzzing endlessly between your ears; but as you turn on your side, as you stare at the photo of your parents on the nightstand holding a 10-year-old you between them, something hits you like a brick: so obvious, you slap your forehead.

“Of fucking course… he has to have some kind of ID…” you mumble to yourself, thinking that should help take you forward at least an infinitesimal percent, enough to help get your unexpected guest off your plate faster.

Rising from bed proves difficult, though, which wouldn’t have been the case if you’d remembered to turn off the alarm. But then, many things, many details, seem to escape your grasp lately, and your mind, your sense of recollection, sometimes feels like a ball of unraveling yarn, the threads tangling the more you try making sense of them. 

You stare up at the pale beige-tinted ceiling, and thankfully you still have all this time off, so at least there’s no immediate returning to the churn.

But then, there’s Adrian.

Gah, have to face the day at some point, don’t we?

Your feet meet the cold floor as you stand, bringing your arms above your head and rising on tiptoe for a stretch. 

The living space is silent when you enter, dusted by a pale morning. Walking towards the kitchen corner, your eyes catch a gleam, a tangle of gold spilling over a pale forearm.

It’s none of your business, it’s not — 

Well. Technically he’s in your home (again), which means it kind of is, now?

You throw a glance at the still-sleeping Adrian, lying on his back, eyes closed.

Apparently, he crashed and slept in the end. 

With this thought, you walk to the kitchen counter, trying to keep the noise to an acceptable level as you rummage through cupboards and drawers. 

The note he wrote yesterday is still on the table, and you remember one thing you said you’d do today.

You drink some water and head over to the bathroom — by the time you’re out, having showered and thrown on an oversized blouse and some house pants, Adrian is awake too.

Still there, still bent forward, staring at the floor.

He raises his gaze as you close the bathroom door, and it’s easy to notice how worn he looks, as though the night has been even less kind to him than the waking hours.

“Hey.”

He only stares back miserably; no surprise there. You smile at him anyway before covering your mouth for a yawn, heading towards the fridge.

“Hope you like pancakes.”

He says nothing to you but stands and goes to the bathroom, where you’d left him a towel and threw his own muddied clothes in the washing machine. By the time he’s back Adrian looks no better, but does come and lean against the counter close to you, arms crossed and staring ahead. You glance at his hair: a beautiful pale-gold mass, and also an utter mess.

“I’ll have to get you a comb,” you say, biting your tongue to keep from laughing at the poor soul’s expense.

After another meal which he barely touches you look at Adrian from across the small, rectangular table. “So, I’ve been thinking,” you say as you reach for your wallet and take out your ID card, tapping it with your finger. “Have something of the sort on you anywhere? Nothing fell out of your clothes, not that I checked, of course, but?...” You don’t continue, half-expecting some light of understanding to dawn on his face, but he looks even more puzzled. 

“Oh, come on,” you lean across the table, pushing the ID card under his nose.

Adrian draws back, watching you with some unease, golden eyebrows set in a deepening frown. “Most people have this sort of thing nowadays,” you say. “Unless you lost yours…” and with that, you fall back into your chair, rubbing at your temples. “We’re going down to see Mrs. Mila,” you say, palms set on the table as you rise and take the note he scrawled yesterday.

“We have to be careful not to bump into Mrs. Hawke too often, especially not with you around,” you say, unlocking the door and walking to the elevator. “She’s the landlady, and trust me, while fair, she can be a little too intrusive,” you add. “Having her on my back is the last thing I want.” Useless. He doesn’t understand any of this. Stop it. 

You sigh with the closing of the elevator doors, but the next second two other neighbors rush through, smiling with their suitcases in hand and eyeballing Adrian the Tall (he does tower over everyone else here, you noted).

“Now, don’t mind her dog,” you say as you exit the elevator and head for Mrs. Mila’s door. “He’s huge and will not stand still, but he’s a harmless, loving ball of fur and spittle.”

“Who’s there?” asks an old voice with an accent after you ring, and you hear agitation, shuffling and beating against the door, and some fast, scolding words in a foreign language. You smile.

Mrs. Mila has been living here ever since you remember. Some say she’s the oldest resident in the building. You never asked, not your place — but sometimes you walk Miro, her dog, for her, or get her groceries when her leg bothers her too much. She’s glad for the company and often makes what you consider some of the most delicious cakes and cookies on this side of the Atlantic. 

“It’s me,” you say, “... with a friend,” you add swiftly, peering sideways at Adrian. He merely waits beside you stiffly, arms crossed and eyes wary.

The door opens, and you see a Rottweiler, excited and wagging his tail behind a frail-looking, white-haired woman with the signs of age carved into her friendly face. “Hello my dear, oh come in, come in — Miro!” she berates, allowing you to enter and you half expect the dog to jump up to your waist as he usually does.

He doesn’t. What Miro does is freeze, then flatten himself to the floor, warm eyes set beyond you — to where Adrian is. 

Mrs. Mila stares too, then looks back at you.

“This is Adrian,” you hasten to add. “Adrian, Mrs. Mila,” you stare at Adrian, who merely inclines his head in a very odd yet placid gesture of acknowledgement. 

“Why, aren’t you a cutie,” the old woman goes, and you might have laughed at any other time, but…

“He doesn’t… he doesn’t speak English.”

Mrs. Mila’s expression changes. “Pardon, I see! Then…”

“We met recently. He’s traveling through here, um, and from what I gathered, needs some directions.” You’re a terrible, terrible liar. “Anyway, it’s why I came. I was hoping you’d have some answers to help with the barrier.”

“Of course!” Her wide blue eyes twinkle in mirth as the woman turns inside and calls to you both, “Come, come, to the kitchen. I have some Spartak cake made yesterday, and it’s to die for, as people here would say.”

Relieved, you follow, and once you’re all seated (and you’ve both been given a slice of cake) you pull up the note. “I remember you could read Cyrillic, am I right?”

Mrs. Mila looks beyond the door, to the corridor where Miro lies, staring at you and whimpering lowly. “Ohhh, I don’t know what could possibly trouble that dog now! I love him, but sometimes he drives me nuttier than I already am.” She shakes her head, then calls to him, but he won’t come.

Unusual, you’d say, as he’d normally already be under the table, vying for attention. But you’ve got other things on your mind now. “Anyway, this is something Adrian wrote,” you turn to him, “Tell her something,” you make a gesture with your hand implying speech. 

He does.

Mrs. Mila squints. “Come again, darling?”

Ugh. “You… don’t recognize the words?”

“I should say not,” her gnarled fingers reach and she takes the note, putting on her large prescription glasses. “This is Cyrillic but—” she frowns, looks back at Adrian strangely. “I am sorry, child. I am Ukrainian, but this,” she looks at the paper again, “...is no language I can speak.”

Your head hurts. “And you don’t… know whether it could be anything else from the same family, or?...”

“No, the words sound strange, very, very strange. They are not Slavic. Or at least I doubt it,” she looks over at Adrian again from beneath her glasses. 

He’s not touched the slice of cake, only stares back emptily, then looks absently around the kitchen.

“Wonderful,” you mumble, taking back the note and grudgingly stuffing another piece of cake into your mouth. “It’s just… difficult to help him, like this, and…”

“I know, I completely understand… when we came here, sixty years ago, we were the same, my late husband and I. Not a word of English!” she smiles in memory, rising from the chair. “But is this… the only way your friend writes?”

“How do you mean?...”

“Did you�� try having him write using your alphabet?” 

“I…” you blink. “I didn’t.” Then suddenly an idea strikes. “Mrs. Mila, thank you!” You rise, cake and all forgotten. “I have to go. I’ll stop by tomorrow for the groceries list, all right?”

“Of course, of course, I’ll be expecting you, as always,” the woman says. “Want some cake for upstairs?” she asks as you walk out.

“No thank you,” you stop on your way to pet Miro. “You’re a strange mutt, did you know that? But then, strangeness seems at home here, lately.”

Miro trembles; you feel sorry for him, hoping he’s not fallen ill. You rush back up to your place, and don’t even wait but head towards your laptop and turn it on.

All the while Adrian watches you, or rather, the large additional monitor connected to the laptop, his eyes wide and mouth fallen open.

You hit a search for De finibus bonorum et malorum since you remember it from your studies. “Come here,” you call for him, and Adrian carefully nears your desk, eyes never leaving the bright screen. 

You point at the writing, and as he bends down close to your shoulder to see, you sense a particular scent about him you failed to notice before. You can’t quite put your finger on what it is, but it’s… different. Not in a bad way, not at all. Just… different.

Why are you noticing this?

You shake your head, “Latin, this is Latin. I don’t expect you to understand the language, but this,” you search for ‘Cyrillic’ and pull up a sample, “... this is what you write in, sort of,” you look up at him, finding pure fascination in his gaze, a change from his dour state though the pain in his eyes lingers still.

You open a translator in a new tab, copy and paste a passage of text and set it to translate into any manner of language using the Latin script. “See? I want you to do the same, but write in your language.” You tap on the monitor from one side to the other, but he stops you with a near impatient wave, his bright eyes set on the screen, then on you; he says something.

“What?” you follow his finger as he points at the other tab, “All right, sure,” you click on the tab with the Latin text.

“Non eram nescius, Brute…” he reads.

Your eyes go wide. “You can read?! I mean… I mean, you can read Latin! You can…” you turn so fast you hit him in the chin, “Shit, sorry!” you say as he rubs at it, getting up to bring him a pen and paper. “You get it now, though, right?” You hand him the items. “Write me something, but this way,” you point at the text. “... if this doesn’t work, I don’t know what else to do,” you mutter under your breath but he seems to have gotten it, and lo-and-behold, he pens something that at last looks familiar in that you can read the letters, but still there’s a peculiar amalgamation of them. 

You head over to grab your phone and return, take a photo with the translator again as Adrian hovers over your shoulder, curiosity poignant on his features. 

“Here goes nothing… please work,” you say as you set it to detect the language. “... here we are, this says… Romanian?” You look up at him, then back to read… 

A measure of reprieve pours through you. The translation isn’t perfect, far from it, but it’s enough to make some kind of sense. You read the words — his words, aloud. “... where am I?”

You meet his gaze. Why would he ask this, unless…

You turn and do a quick search, find Romania, a country located somewhere in Europe. “... holy shit. Were you brought here against your will… I wonder? Or lost your memories?” An amnesiac after all, maybe?

You type back in the translator, tell him where you are, and add: “Are you from Romania?”

Adrian looks at what you wrote, frowns and that same, familiar desperation creeps around his eyes, curls the lines of his mouth. You push the phone in his hands but he doesn’t take it, instead choosing to write on the piece of paper.

Fine. You take a photo again, read it. “W… Walhall— … no… Wall-achia? What the fuck is that…” Again, the internet is your crutch, and you find…

Wallachia is an archaic name, technically, for Romania. Very odd, but… maybe he’s just a freak who prefers old names to things?

Still, this is more progress than you expected and looking back into his face, you see a glimmer of something, like a ray of sun through a thick burden of cloud. “This is going to be a long day…” You pick up the phone. “How did you get here? Do you have any friends here? Do you have any family?” 

He reads, but seems to struggle with the longer sentences, biting on his lip. He writes something down, and you repeat the process to read his answer. “I do not know.” And then: “Nobody.”

“Well, buddy, that’s not a lot of help,” you rub the back of your head. “Do you have any ID on you?”

What you get back is: “What is this?”

“ID, you know. Identification that most everyone has about their person?” You pull up yours again and he stares at the picture, at the numbers and dates.

He shakes his head.

“...you… you… augh.” He has no ID. He has no money, no possessions as far as you can tell, no knowledge of how he got here? And speaks some weird form of Romanian as far as you can deduce. All you have is a name. 

“Do you have another name?”

“I do not know. Cannot remember.”

You rub at your eyes, stare back at him as he bends to write something again. You see something you hadn’t before — he wears two rings, two bands rather, on the fingers of his right hand. They appear to be golden, shining warmly against his cold-toned skin. You look down to his neck, where he’s forgotten to button up the collar of the flannel shirt you’d given him.

There’s a mark (a scar?), thick, ragged like a healing burn wound, the skin puckered and red, winding beneath the material. You look back up and find him staring at you, extending the piece of paper.

Crap. “Sorry, didn’t mean to be nosey,” you look quickly down to read:

“Your language?”

“... seriously?” You type it in either way. “English.”

His expression morphs into something that doesn’t need translating: incredulity. 

You turn to search in your desk drawer, pulling up an old, blank agenda you’ve had around for years but never used. “Here,” you offer it to him, then tap into the translator: “Use this to write.” While his apparent wariness of phones is another oddity, this is better than nothing at all. At least, until you figure out what to do about him, which will have to be soon. 

Adrian reaches and his long hand takes the small agenda from you, holds it to his chest. He opens it, writes something again in that beautiful cursive.

 “Gratitude.”

You meet his eyes, sad eyes glowing like burnished sunlight. “Don’t thank me yet,” you say, though something stirs in your chest, and looking at the time, you see it’s past midday already, the day having flown by while you were both caught up in this. 

Not once did you despair about them. Still, still. As much as you want to help, you still don’t know this person, and apparently, neither do they. You stand on your feet, place your hands on your hips, then get another idea. “... come on,” you say, not bothering with translating this time, “First things first. Let’s get some lunch.”

Part I - Part II - Part III - Part IV - Part V - Part VI - Part VII - Part VIII - Part IX - Part X

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MASTERLIST: CASTLEVANIA SERIES x READER

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[crepe-of-wrath]

Plush (Alucard x Fem Reader)

I'm just trying to get something out here because I've had writer's block for ages. As always, this fic is Mature and not intended for readers under 18. It's smutty and there's mentions of biting and blood. Alucard is implied to be overprotective/possibly yandere-ish here and Reader can be interpreted as having some Stockholm Syndrome, so if that's really not your thing, give this one a pass.

You should probably object to what your life has become. That you don't probably means that you're some sort of freak. Broken. Damaged. Incapable of understanding what's best for you. A bad example for the children.

But everything here feels so good that you just cannot bring yourself to give a fuck.

A glass of Château d'Yquem--your favorite nocturnal treat--was sitting on the table. It felt like ambrosia as it went down your throat, coating it in honeyed bliss.

As you settled into your plush velvet couch, it occurred to you that there was only one thing on this earth that felt better in your mouth.

That fleeting, wanton thought instantaneously set your body on fire. Few things gave your more pleasure than kneeling before your impossibly handsome protector so that you could satiate and serve him, so that you could show your enduring, undying gratitude for the fact that he had chosen you to keep.

You wriggled on the couch, letting the tiny tendrils of the silken pile caress your skin. The heady scent of the golden wine and the gentle brush of the velvet made you incredibly sensitive and receptive. You put your fingers to your lips because their weight made it easier to dream that you were taking Alucard--silken and velvety in his own right--into your mouth. The wriggling became writhing and your nightie started to ride up your body. You dragged your fingers from your lips and skimmed your hand over yourself, whimpering when you brushed one of your nipples.

In the dark shadows of the room, you felt a deep, vibrating murmur of praise. Wonderful! Your protector was here to reward you by allowing you to worship his body. You stilled yourself, preparing yourself for the moment when your beautiful monster revealed himself to you.

"Did I tell you you could stop?"

You gasped, but did not apologize--you had learned long ago he didn't like you to say sorry with your words. Still, his voice was urgent and rough, and you knew that if you were a good girl he would do you the honor of taking you, so you quickly bared your entire body for him and started touching yourself.

Your little whines were broken, choked off like the true pleasure that was just beyond your grasp. "Alucard," you pleaded. "I can't--it's just not as good." He remained hidden and your noises took on a sorrowful quality.

"Alucard!"

You barely managed to get his name out as your hands continued to touch your body--couldn't he see how you needed him?

"O-only you!" You were wailing now between what words you were able to force out.

Finally--finally--he came closer, fully visible in the moonlight, in only his shirt and pants.

"Only me?" he said as he sat on the far side of the couch and crooked a finger. You crawled across the couch, tears of thanksgiving about to fall from your eyes.

He pulled you onto his lap, legs straddling him. You could feel him through his pants and your entire being was consumed with the need to have him inside you in any and all ways that he wished.

Alucard rested a long finger under your chin and stroked your cheek with his thumb for a moment. Then, putting his lips to your ear, he whispered, "Only me what?"

You tried to press into him, but his other hand stayed your hips.

"Only me what?"

"Only you can make me feel good."

"Why is that, my darling?"

"Because my body is yours, Alucard."

"Undress me. Quickly."

You had undressed him so many times now that you made fast work of it, and although you wished to let your fingers linger on his shoulders and collarbone, his tone of voice made it clear that he did not wish for that.

The moment you had finished removing his pants, he snatched you back into his lap. You opened your legs as wide as possible as he started settling you on his cock.

Alucard made his own sounds of pleasure as you began to move yourself up and down, moving your hips forward a little each time. Your hands were now on his perfect shoulders so you could brace yourself as you rolled down and he bucked up.

An all-consuming euphoria now possessed you, taking you to places so primordial you could no longer vocalize. You could only cry. What supposedly eternal and heavenly paradise could compare with being filled and claimed by Alucard?

You arched up and tilted your head back. Your pretty, long neck was fully exposed, and Alucard was alternating between greedily stroking it and gently grasping it.

You brought your head forward again so you could look into his eyes and tangle your fingers in his long hair. Softly, you said, "Why do you hesitate to drink, my Lord? The blood in my veins, like the rest of my body, is yours to take."

You screamed when he bit into you, of course, but it was no shriek of pain: it was the cry of orgasmic rapture. As you sobbed, he quickened his own movements, drawing out all sorts of babbling promises of your devotion, until he found his own release.

He helped you stand, and the two of you gently swayed back and forth dancing in and out of the moonlight coming through the window, allowing the sweat to cool and dry. You assumed he was about to take you to your bath, but, instead, he laid down on the plush velvet and drew you to him.

When you shivered and your skin pebbled, one of his gorgeous long arms pulled a throw out from under the table. You could tell from the way it settled over your body that it had to be fine cashmere.

He did not stop at just the blanket. He produced another glass, and you heard him open the bottle of Sauternes and pour. One glass, then a second.

He placed a heavy crystal stem in your hand.

"Drink," he said, low and commanding.

Sugared delight in your throat. Silken velvet at your shoulders. Cloud-like cashmere keeping you warm. A beautiful man--well, sort of--who kept you hidden away for your mutual delight.

You looked at Alucard and gently clinked your glass against his. He caught you in a kiss that tasted of the wine and of him. His hand possessively pressed into the small of your back.

Yes, you probably should object. But you weren't going to.

[blouisparadise]

Here is another rec list of BL fics that feature everyone’s favorite trope, enemies to lovers! You can also check out part one here and part two here. Since there are so many fics to include on this list, we also plan to do more parts in the future! If you enjoy our rec lists, please be sure to like and reblog this post to help spread the word. Happy reading!

1) Say My Name And Everything Just Stops | Explicit | 5089 words

Harry and Louis are enemies and their friends leave them behind on a camping trip to sort out their differences. In a short amount of time, they do.

2) I Couldn’t Get Away From You | Mature | 5185 words

Suddenly in the heat of the moment, Harry’s eyes turned darker as he pushed Louis’ back more and more towards the wall. “Fine.” He plants his lips on Louis’ and begins to roughly kiss him, soon enough turning it into a make-out session.

“Fuck you, Styles,” Louis moans and grips onto Harry’s shoulders, hands trailing up to the taller’s hair and gripping that as well.

“We’ll see about that.”

3) Daddy to Coach to Daddy | Explicit | 5930 words

Harry is Louis' 'new' coach and things go down before turning better.

4) When the World Comes Down | Not Rated | 6248 words

"I wouldn't breathe the same air as him even if we were the only two people on earth"

Harry didn't mean that literally. Not until Harry and Louis are the only two people alive on this earth (to their knowledge).

5) It’s Hard To Fight Naked | Explicit | 11189 words

Prompt 6: Louis and Harry are roommates, but they cannot stand each other. When Harry heard Louis moan his name while Louis was riding a dildo in Harry’s room (Louis thought he was alone at home), Harry couldn’t stop himself and so he ended up fucking Louis against the mattress. Happy ending!

6) Let’s Make Christmas Merry, Baby | Explicit | 19871 words

Harry and Louis have to play Mr and Mrs Claus at a frat party and don’t get on, but keep getting stuck under mistletoe until they do.

7) Where I Should Be | Explicit | 20670 words

“That’s the difference between you and me,” Louis says. “I loved him. You liked him.”

Harry, far too interested in shattering Louis’ ardent loyalty to Wynn, says, “Such a waste.”

“Who are you to decide?” Louis breathes, craning his neck to glare.

“Who better to decide than me?” He leans imperceptibly closer. Wanting, waiting for him to close the inch of distance.

8) Sweet Revelation, Bitter Wine | Explicit | 20786 words

“Yeah, well. It’s not my fault I can’t stand the sight of you. This is kind of all your fault," Louis reminds him, his blue eyes flashing.

“Is that right?” Harry provokes him, clicking his teeth annoyingly. “That’s a shame, since you’re the most distractingly pretty demon slayer I’ve ever met.”

They're silent for a beat. He feels Harry’s fingers brushing over his cheekbone tenderly, before he's grasping his chin and tilting his face up properly to look at him.

Harry’s face is close to his now, his handsome features rendering him weak and leaving Louis to blink slowly at him, appreciating the view of a tall, morally ambiguous demon whose full attention is on him.

“Are you going to kiss me?” Louis asks him, voice honeyed and tempting as the fight leaves his body and he goes limp in Harry's grip.

9) Reach The Heavens Own Blue | Explicit | 21070 words

Louis is a Boston Red Sox and Harry is a New York Yankee.

10) Never Meant To Be So Bad To You | Mature | 27608 words

Louis hated Harry and his stupid confidence and his handsome face and his deep voice and his stupid jeans and his stupid smile and his stupid existence. He hated Harry, always had and always will. They’d never gotten along and Louis wasn’t sure how it started, but he knows that Harry was put onto this earth to bug the hell out of Louis. Being trapped inside of an arcade with him was hell and it hadn't been a full minute.

11) Sunflowers, Sunshine, And You | Explicit | 28778 words

Sunshine county is small but mighty and Harry takes pride in knowing nearly each and every person that lives inside of it. For nearly eleven years now he’s been sheriff, and not one of them he’s ever regretted settling down here.

He knows the road names like the back of his hand, knows the people and the animals and the way the world works here. In all of the time he’s been here, not a thing has changed.

So, all things considered, when he starts seeing a beat up pickup truck roaming through town with plates he’s never seen before, Harry, to be frank, jumps on that like a fly on fresh dog shit.

12) Voicemail Sings A Wreck | Explicit | 37016 words

Louis doesn’t have any proof, but he’s pretty damn sure that even when he’s dead and buried six feet deep, Harry Styles will still find a way to haunt him in his grave.

13) Happier Prettier | Explicit | 40348 words

It wasn't that Harry hated Louis Tomlinson. He was just a Broadway kid who got insanely famous thanks to some silly videos on an even sillier app, got a label contract, forgot about his roots and now he was pretending to be a pop star.  He didn't even mind that everyone was actually buying his act of being sweeter than honey. It was that Harry knew that game too well — he was inside it after all — he knew how fake people could get and how manipulative they actually were.

So no, it wasn’t that he didn’t like Louis, it was that he reminded him of everything he didn’t like in a person. Louis reminded him a bit too much of... her.

14) Soaked In The Blood Of Angels |Explicit | 40867 words

The boy looks drugged, caught between a man who’s almost twice his size and a girl who looks like she wouldn’t even break a sweat snapping him in half despite her small stature, eyes closed and mouth open as he pants, arching up between them almost as if he’s trying to escape.

Normally, Harry would ignore it and continue on his search for someone to drink from, someone who wouldn’t mind his sharp teeth and rough hands. He’s seen plenty of boys like this one, ones who picked the wrong playmates, and if he stopped to rescue every single one of them he would have died from thirst a long time ago.

This one, though. There’s something about this one, the sheen of his bright blue eyes as he blinks slowly, looks around as though he doesn’t know where he is, the weakness of his hands as he tries to push the girl off of him and make his escape.

15) When Our Worlds They Fall Apart | Explicit | 42228 words

Harry put his hand over his heart as if Louis had wounded him. “You’re so harsh, my liege! Perhaps you need to relieve some tension…” He let his voice trail off suggestively.

“The day I ask YOU to relieve tension is the day I lose all my wits and join the Imperials,” Louis said. “It will never happen.” 

16) Now I Think That I Could Love You Back | Explicit | 42255 words

“I do not care if she banishes me to my chambers for a month or the rest of the year, you two must see reason,” Louis protests, feeling a minor fit coming on. “He is nothing but an insufferable, cocky, cloddish, pitiful excuse for an Alpha, and he deserves to live the rest of his days in solitary, not me.”

“My, my, what an array of abuse. I surely would loath to be this inadequate excuse of an Alpha you speak of, but alas I cannot relate to possessing such deficiency,” a honey-glazed voice drips out from behind Louis, and the omega can feel the steam pouring over, ready to burst out of his already flushed ears.

17) Give My Love A Four Letter Name | Explicit | 46627 words

Louis hates Harry because he's a demon. Harry hates Louis because Louis hates him. Things change.

18) Oubaitori | Explicit | 48822 words

Louis and Harry meet again after years apart and have to learn to live together by detangling their shared past and uncovering old secrets.

19) Made For Lovin’ You | Explicit | 52637 words

The one where a quick, horny decision ruins Louis’ summer plans, but may also lead to unexpected discoveries. Featuring the road trip of dreams, misunderstandings, and a bit of fate.

20) Hold On To Your Heart | Explicit | 54183 words

The Proposal AU, where Louis is the no-nonsense editor in chief of one of the largest publishing houses in the country, and Harry is the unlucky assistant that gets roped into a fake engagement to prevent his boss from being deported. Things don't go as planned.

21) Let Your Damage, Damage Me | Explicit | 57077 words

A low and dangerous growl was ripped from the future King’s chest.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” the alpha snarled, eyes dark and nostrils flared.

Even as anger rushed through him at the alpha’s brutish display, Louis felt breathless at the intense gaze of the man that was going to be his future mate.

‘Tomorrow I’m going to be under all that. He will be inside me, all muscles and rage.’ Louis felt his cheeks heat again, but refused to be cowed. So he put his best smirk on display, the one alphas despised to see, the one that assured them all he had the upper hand.

“Thought you were expecting me, dear husband. I’m your future mate.”

22) Mead Of Poetry | Explicit | 65053 words

Under the pressure of continuing the Styles viscountcy line now that he is getting older, Harry sets himself three rules to finally settle down and marry: firstly, the omega needs to be reasonably attractive, secondly, they must be of great mind, thirdly, they cannot be anyone he would ever fall in love with.

Enters Charlotte Tomlinson, the diamond of the first water of the upcoming season and seemingly the perfect candidate to the viscount’s plan, but her omega brother, Louis, is in Harry’s way. Louis only seeks to protect his sister and he sure is not going to let a rake play with her heart.

23) We’ll Cast Some Light (You’ll Be Alright) | Not Rated | 74409 words

There’s a standard procedure for this. Scan, track, kill. But with a solar eclipse and a Greater Demon with unfinished business looming, the path to keeping England safe from harm becomes complicated and shadowed by mystery and secrets. For Harry and his team, times have never been harder, especially when a few old friends turned foes show up. Harry is left with just over forty days to overcome the hurdle of tension between them and reconcile their past, and figure out just what Louis is hiding from him before it’s too late.

24) Worsens, Nothing Grows | Mature | 102528 words | Sequel

Another roadtrip AU featuring Harry as the misunderstood hipster, Louis as the bitter psych major, Liam as the one with the secret boyfriend, and Niall as the one who just wants everyone to be happy.

25) Heart Jab | Explicit | 113129 words

Louis is a famous boxing champion living and working in London, Harry is an up-and-coming boxing star who jeopardizes Louisʼ position in the business. They meet when Louis is right about to further walk down a very thin line of desperation, loneliness, hopelessness and self-destruction, and this does not come without fights, screams, tears and talks. But eventually, when it all comes down, Louis has to decide which way he wants to go, despite all the hardships thrown at him. And Harry has to battle his own demons to be there when that happens.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

Gulps…, hellohi.. confession I’ve been daydreaming about angst recently and that cult leader Geto drabble u wrote only made me think about it even more… <///333 ignore that I’m a little bit obsessed with the mentally ill/traumatised reader + stsg trope but… can u really blame me ☹️ they would be so good and I think they would be the best comfort u could possible have :((

Ok but. more specifically reader with a rough childhood (a lil like sugu.. he def has some sort of daddy/mommy issues i will die on that hill) or some sort of abandonment/trust issues that has a habit of self sabotaging or intentionally distancing themselves. More specifically maybe grown up stsg where they’re a little more mature and have more of a grasp on how to help you better.. maybe reader has a nightmare or something, goes out for a smoke on the balcony etc etc.. sugu meets them out there n. They just have a good old fashioned talk like :( just being honest and vulnerable because it’s late and u just need a hug most of all :(( def ends with him carrying reader back to bed n playing with ur hair until you fall back asleep GODDDD KILL ME NOW ☹️☹️ moments of tenderness/vulnerability are my absolutely favourite thing in writing/shows/etc ESPECIALLY when it’s from characters that usually don’t display those sort of feelings because you just know it means there’s such a strong bond between them…. Can u hear my heart breaking

^^ either this one or reader with trust issues that’s a little cat-like personality wise (which I think fits so beautifully because stsg are the most wolf coded boys ever) who’s fully convinced they’re better off on their own, they don’t need friends or people to rely on. Until they meet stsg!!!!! Because suddenly there are two irritatingly charming losers following you around and worming their way into your heart and you just. Physically cannot bring yourself to deny them, even if it’s a little scary allowing people in. And god i think it would make them feel SO special once you started warming up to them. Allowing satoru to greet you with hugs or pinch ur cheeks… letting sugu baby you a little…… (distant screaming)

THIS HAS BEEN ANOTHER YAP SESSION BY ME ^_^ it’s literally so late at night rn I don’t know why these ideas always come to me just as I’m about to sleep ffs ☹️ N E WAYYYSSSS im looking forward to that satoru fic/drabble thing u were talking about :3 a mix of scared and excited ngl I feel like I gotta prepare myself incase it’s angsty….. but WHAT HAVE U BEEN UP TO?? It’s literally just been grey n windy where I am so I hope ur getting better weather where u are 😞😞 I HOPE U HAVE BEEN HAVING FUN N TAKING CARE OF YOURSELF!!

(Also irrelevant but I was just about to add a silly image to finish and I stumbled across this image of satoru and I’m laughing my ass of why is he so lanky?????? I could NOT be his friend I would just make fun of him for being built like a fucking STICKBUG 😭😭😭 LOOK AT THE RESEMBLANCE)

(Yes I made the second image myself what do you think of my artistic talent ^_^ ignore the flag)

HELLO HI MY DEAREST OLLIE i am gulping right with you ……… this made me so insane 😔😔

i’ve said it before n i’ll say it again . ariollie STAYS synced up i’m convinced we share a brain……. your scenarios always make me feel so ill (affectionate) and this scenario just means sm to me :((( they really would be the best!!! a reader like that would be treated so tenderly and with sm understanding…. especially since suguru and satoru had rough upbringings too!! (not canon for sugu maybe but i agree w you 100% ollie i literally can’t see his childhood being anything but messed up…. he def has both mommy and daddy issues i know my own kind 🙏🙏)

aaaaa just!!! yeah. reader isolating themselves when they feel down and overwhelmed and being taken care of so effortlessly… stsg just wouldn’t let you face your struggles alone. you’re a team!!! and yeah grown up stsg would for sure be the best at this. i think that as teens they won’t know exactly how to help/might be a little overwhelming….. but as adults they’re more mature and grounded and have a better understanding of your struggles and their own!!! goshhhhh the balcony scene 😔😔😔 ollie do you want my heart to shatter (also what if i told you that exact scenario has popped up in my head multiple times we’re so linked) suguru would just be so vulnerable and patient and caring :(((( our papa bear…. carries you to bed and lulls you to sleep. for sure makes you a warm cup of tea too… sighhh i need him i fear 💔💔

AND AND ANDDDD a catlike reader 😵‍💫😵‍💫 one of my personal favs. independent and a little distant….. used to being on their own……. very picky with who they allow close. it’s just PERFECT for stsg (WOLFCODED BOYS SO TRUEEE)… ollie the way you describe it all makes me feel ILLLL they really would feel so honoured 😭😭😭 cue satoru melting into a puddle when you finally wrap your arms around him….. suguru literally grinning like an idiot (he’s trying DESPERATELY not to but it’s impossible) when you shyly ask him for affection. yeahhhh their hearts would explode i think

ANOTHER BANGER YAP SESSION FROM OLLIEEE i look forward to them sm yknow!!! i can always trust you to have the tastiest stsg scenarios ready to go 🙏🙏🙏 i’m a lil late to this BUT i hope you had a cozy sleep my friend <3 AND WAHH i’m so glad you’re excited for bfb!satoru!!!! i’m gonna try to get it out by next weekend…… i promise not to make it angsty hehe it’s just a lil bittersweet!!! a tiny bit!!!! (depends on how you feel abt the unrequited love trope though 😭😭) IT’S GRAY N WINDY HERE TOO i’m hoping for more sunlight soon………. and i’m doing well hehe i’ve been playing a bunch of pj sekai + watching my favorite streamer play zero escape >:33 WHAT ABT UUU OLLIE what have you been up to?? good things i hope!!! pls remember to rest up and take care of yourself as well <333 it’s what stsg would’ve wanted!!!

(also PHDKDVDJDJYFU NOT THE SATORU SLANDER?????? 😭😭😭 LEAVE MY STICKBUG ALONE???????? i snorted so loud thank you for the free art it’s beautiful <333 i’m gna print it and hang it on my wall.)