#there is no reason to fret anonymous

[merakiui]

coastal conversation.

yandere!floyd leech x (female) reader cw: (soft/subtle) yandere, nsfw, breeding, obsession, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, slight delusion, floyd's kind of a pervert in this one note - everything is in bloom in spring: the plants, the incessant rain, romance… for floyd, it means mating season.

In the most unfiltered way, Floyd feels like utter shit. 

He tossed and turned all throughout the night, drowning in an ocean of his own sweat. One minute, he was hot all over, thus the blankets were cast off, and the next he was chilled to his marrow so badly he had to cocoon himself in those same drenched sheets. Even though it’s early spring and the unpredictable forecast has hammered NRC’s campus with floods of cool rain, Octavinelle Dorm is kept at suitable temperatures for its residents.

Therefore, it shouldn’t be much of an issue. He’ll regulate and bounce back…or whatever it is human bodies do when throttled with wild weather.

Floyd has an innate sensitivity to everything, so it’s no surprise he’s able to immediately zero in on it—the creeping suspicion that something’s wrong. He knows he’s falling ill, but there are way too many human ailments for him to recall and some of them aren’t even worth pitching a fit over. He takes pride in his human immune system, which the doctors have observed is healthy every year he’s had to sit for his medical exams, so, really, he has no reason to fret.

And he’s not. It’s more inconvenient than anything. He has plans today—plans he’s not exactly thrilled about—but plans nonetheless. This mounting sickness is the perfect excuse to ditch them and sleep the weekend away. If he believed in all that universe-speaking-through-signs crap, he’d say fate is on his side. It’s destiny telling him not to go on this blind date.

That’s right. A blind date. Those are the plans.

He’s not even sure why he agreed to it in the first place. Maybe because it sounded interesting at the time it was proposed, but now he has to actually execute everything he once marveled at in theory. And dates are so much work, even more so when you’re not feeling it.

But Jade—the professional provocateur that he is—went and blabbed about this development to their mother, who was so thrilled on Floyd’s behalf and wished him all the best. If she wasn’t stuck in the sea with her own business to handle, she’d come up there to visit and cheer him on—something Floyd was quick to veto. He loves his mama, but sometimes she can be excessive in her affections. Any other day he’d be pleased to bask in it, but not when he’s feeling so volatile. It’s like the four seasons are at constant war within his body, each one battling for sole control over his temperament.

Still, he’s a little curious.

He’s never been on a blind date before. It was arranged through an app he’d downloaded for the sake of slaking his boredom. Find your next Charming Darling. That’s what the app advertised—purely fairy-tale experiences. True love and princesses and all kinds of lovey-dovey stuff Floyd scrunched his nose at. Azul had said the app itself seemed “dubious at best, but most certainly a scam,” as it worked only by pairing two anonymous users together for online chatting. It was a location thing, apparently. You wouldn’t know who you were talking to and neither would the other person—each profile kept private for suspense or some other stupid reason—but you’d both know where the other was in proximity to you. 

And it just so happened that Floyd’s Charming Darling was close. On campus close. 

He wondered which small fry had matched with him, and it was his theorizing that convinced him to melt out of bed and into clothes for the day. He can handle a few hours in town. He needs to pick up some things anyway, so if the date is a bust the trip won’t have been for nothing.

After confirming the meeting place with his so-called ‘darling’, he pulls his sneakers on, stuffs his wallet in his pocket, and then sets off to catch the bus into town. 

Even though the sun is high in the sky, the would-be heat is chilled by the gentle breeze rolling in from the coast. His head is pounding and stuffed full of crackling static and wires, and he feels an impossible itch deep beneath his skin. But the pleasant weather manages to lift his spirits enough for him to let his date know he’s arrived at the café. He finds a table outside and plops down, content to wait after receiving an enthusiastic almost there text.

He smells you before he sees you.

Suddenly, the sticky-sweet aroma of candy and pastries and every other saccharine thing invades his senses. It’s thrilling like blood in the water, widening his pupils until his eyes are nearly twin pools of the deepest black, but instead of iron and injury he catches the floral notes of arousal. Or maybe it’s a scarily strong perfume.

Either way, it has his hunting instincts switched on, that predatory hindbrain of his prickling with the urge to chase and capture prey.  

Just before he can sift through the other scents slamming his nose and narrow in on that very specific one, someone speaks up.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me. You’re my Prince Charming?”

Oh, he knows that voice. Immediately, whatever bad mood was sitting on simmer in the back of his head shuts off and is replaced with a burst of positive energy. A malicious smile curls on his lips, one he’s all too eager to flash at you when he turns around in his seat.

He almost falls out of it.

You look different. It’s a good sort of different. In your pretty blouse and skirt, stockings pulled up to your knees, you look ready for a date. You’ve even styled your hair and done your makeup to match your outfit. It’s a stark contrast to how you normally look at school: perpetually exhausted, too lazy to do anything more than simply pull your uniform on and attempt a semi-presentable attitude. Enough to get through the day. But this… This is a genuine effort.

You got all dressed up for this little date. Even put on a pretty scent.

All for him.

Cute.

If this was the sea, you’d attract all sorts of predators.

Thankfully, your scowl is evidence enough that you’re too miffed to notice his uncharacteristic silence. He beams up at you, the picture of innocence.

“Heya, Shrimpy. Looks like you’re the one I’m s’posed to meet.” To prove it, he holds his phone up for you to see. The chat log glints back at you.

“Unfortunately.” You fix your purse strap and eye the surrounding area with a frown. Floyd can tell you’re searching for your real date because you don’t believe it could be him. When you check your phone for confirmation, your expression sours. “So it really is you.”

“In the flesh. Sooo. You gonna sit?”

“I guess. I already made the trip here, might as well.” You slide into the seat across from him.

“Ya look good.”

“And you look like you just crawled out of a cave.”

“Nope, not a cave.” He rests his elbows on the table and leans in, a giggle tickling the back of his throat. “Bed.”

“Yeah, that sounds like you.”

“If I’d known it was gonna be you, I woulda wore somethin’ nice.”

“Can’t get much nicer than this.” You gesture at him vaguely and he laughs. He’s glad he didn’t miss this. “Whatever. I’ll just get some cake to go and be on my way.”

“Whaaat? That’s lame. Aren’t ya gonna stay a bit?”

I’ll make it fun, so don’t go.

“Why? Are you?”

He nods.

“You don’t even like me. Why would I make myself—and you—even more miserable by staying?”

“Cuz,” he replies with a noncommittal shrug, like that answers it.

Instead of offering him a response, you pry the menu open and hide behind the flaps.

“Didn’t think you were the dating app type,” he tries, aiming for small talk.

You lower your menu to look at him. “Tell me, Floyd. What’s the ‘dating app type’ supposed to look like?”

He leans back in his seat, amused by your annoyance. “Dunno.” And then, before you can recover, a rapid-fire question: “Who were you hopin’ to meet today?”

Tell me so I can beat ’em into the ground.

He snaps out of the sudden territorial jealousy and, like the waves, feels the violent urge ebb away. 

Weird. He’s not looking to start a fight today. So then why is he so…restless?

“Not you. You’re the furthest thing from my ideal Prince Charming.”

And he’s back in the ring, ready to swap verbal vitriol until someone succumbs to the blow. “Well, what’s your perfect, li’l prince look like?”

“I don’t know.” You huff and retreat behind the menu, and right then he knows he has you cornered. “Anyone but you.”

“Aww. C’mon, Shrimpy, ya gotta have an image of ’em, at least. If you’ve spent so much time thinkin’ about it—” and he knows you have because he was present for all of those midnight text exchanges, trading details on future partners like they were cards— “then you’ve gotta have an idea.”

“It’ll never be you, so I don’t see why you’re so interested.” But then you slam your fist against your palm. “Oh, I get it. You just want dirt on me.”

“What? No way. That’s boring.” He pulls a disgusted face. He’s not the type to rely on psychological warfare and mental manipulation. So not his style.

“Isn’t that your whole angle?”

His mood promptly nosedives. “Just cuz I’m in Octavinelle and I hang with Jade and Azul doesn’t mean I follow their flow by the letter,” he snaps.

Rather than flinch back, his irritated tone seems to smooth out your stiffness and he watches you visibly relax. He thinks that’s strange. Why aren’t you scared? Not that it’s his intention to frighten you. The last thing he wants is to chase you off. He’s waited so long for a moment like this one; he isn’t going to ruin it.

That’s why he’s so thrilled you’re you. The other small fry would just quiver like a bunch of babies, but you’re different. You meet his mood swings head-on, unflinching and unbothered. Patient, that’s what he’d call it. You’re patient. Not surgically so like Jade and definitely not meticulously like Azul. Your patience is like a tide pool. Calm and transparent. No ulterior motives. 

It’s just you. That’s why he likes you so much. No elaboration needed.

“In that case, I could turn the question on you,” you continue, idly scanning the menu. “What does Floyd Leech’s ideal partner look like?”

Fuck. He wants you to say his name again. It pokes at some dormant part in his brain, the one that’s just starting to wake, humming with a queasy sort of desire. He fidgets with the menu, more focused on the extensive list of treats than the contents of your question.

He could say his ideal partner is you, but you probably wouldn’t believe him. And because of that it’s not worth using as a shock factor. Too predictable.

“Someone fun,” he says after a beat of quiet.

“So it was you… I can’t believe I didn’t realize that while we were texting.”

“Wasn’t obvious for me either. You talk so casually over text. It’s like a completely different Shrimpy.”

Equipped with this new information, it drapes another layer of context over your conversations. Because now he can associate your face with all of those flustered messages. He’s proud of that—of teasing you and eliciting such sweet reactions. To think it was you on the other end this entire time. He wonders if he made your heart skip a beat. Or maybe you stuffed your face in a pillow to hide your embarrassment. He pictures you holed up in Ramshackle, vibrating with nervous excitement.

Cute, cute, cute.

Refusing to dignify that with a proper retort, you fold your menu, pass it to the waiter, and voice your order. Floyd follows your lead, rattling off the name of the first dessert that caught his eye. 

Just beyond the umbrella shielding both of you from the sun’s searing gaze, storm clouds begin to darken the pastel sky. 

To shake off the ache that’s beginning to brew behind his eyes, he asks you about your plans for spring break. He must have won the small talk lottery because the suspicion in your stare disappears and you launch into a full-blown lecture about all the things you plan to get done. A whole grocery list. You’re going to be one busy Shrimpy come next week. A shame he won’t be around to witness it.

He’s keen to listen because it’s really all he can do with his waning focus. Your voice reels him in when his attention drifts. He doesn’t realize he’s admiring your mouth as it sounds out syllables he can only just register. Suddenly, it’s like he can’t even parse human speech. You’re looking through him, brows furrowed.

He’s always thought about kissing you. It’s in a moray’s nature to lie in wait, shrouded in the shadows, patiently waiting for the opportune moment. He doesn’t have anything to hide behind now, though. And if he kissed you here he thinks you might slap him. That would be invigorating.

Something stirs in him. 

No. Actually, it’s…

The world.

The world is being stirred. Someone’s stuffed a spatula into the fluffy mixture and given it a steady whirl, and now everything’s a blurry mess of shapes and colors. He blinks rapidly to clear his vision.

It’s too hot. He needs to peel himself out of his skin and soak in the abyssopelagic zone.

Is he sweating? He must be. He’d lick at the liquid gathering between his armpits to determine that, but he’s on a date with you and human courtship dictates that he must impress you. So he can’t do things humans consider ‘gross’ or ‘indecent’. He has to leave a nice impression. He has to prove to you he’s just as good, if not better, than your lousy Prince Charming.

So he wipes his palms on his pants. Not that he’ll hold your hand. He thinks you’d sooner chop your own hands off than willingly reach for him, and the image of this extreme aversion is too funny to offend him. 

Floyd swallows thickly. Your smell is so strong. Have you always smelled like this? Now that he’s looking at you, you appear…softer. He can’t explain it. Your skin looks healthier. The darkness sitting under your eyes isn’t nearly as sunken in as it usually is. Your lips shimmer with a beautiful shade of pink-red. It’s almost like you’re glowing.

If you were a mer, he thinks you’d be an ornamental fish. A pretty thing kept pampered, fins flowing like skirts, scales bright like individual chips of glass. A beguiling beauty who is just as fierce as she is stunning. 

Maybe, he wonders, his gaze trailing down to your chest, you have eggs. Maybe that’s why you look softer. 

“oyd… Floyd!”

He snaps back to himself. “Hmm?”

“Are you listening?”

“What part?” he asks without missing a beat, still smiling even though it hurts to do anything more than simply breathe. “Shrimpy’s got lotsa plans. You’re gonna be all diligent and hardworking. Hey, you should stay over at Octavinelle. We’ll keep ya nice and busy there.” 

You roll your eyes. “Keep dreaming.”

He giggles. Oh, if only you knew of all the things he dreams about. Nothing can compare to the real Shrimpy, though. The one who glares at him like he’s an insect. The one who puffs up like a pufferfish when upset or angry. The one who always has such fun reactions to his teasing. How could he possibly stay away?

Just then, the desserts arrive. Floyd can’t find the appetite and is instead satisfied watching you eagerly receive your fruity drink and cake. He scoops a bite of pudding on his spoon and holds it out to you. Unsurprisingly, you scowl at it.

“Absolutely not.”

“It’s a date, ain’t it? Gotta live up to your expectations.” And then, because he’s itching for your hands on him, whether to hit him or choke him out, he adds, “Shrimpy’s got some reeeal high standards.”

“Ugh. Gross. You’re the last person I’d want to feed me. And I’ve got my own food, thank you.”

“Ya sure? Should I manta it?”

“Should you what?” You fix him with a critical look, but he can see the interest bubbling beneath the thin veil of confusion.

“Y’know, manta it. Like this.” He moves his arm so that the spoon glides along an invisible current, moving smoothly like a manta ray. “Mama used to do that all the time when I didn’t wanna eat somethin’.”

“So the fish version of the airplane.”

“Eeh? That’s what humans do?”

You shrug. “It works.”

Floyd thinks he still prefers the manta. “Sooo. Wanna give it a try?” He’s itching to prove he can provide for you, even if it’s just pudding and not heaps and heaps of fish or an entire shark carcass. 

You eye his spoon​​ warily. “What flavor is it?”

“Secret,” he hums, delighted. 

“Fine. Just one bite.” You reach to grab it, but he moves his arm up and away. 

“Nuh-uh. You gotta let me do it. Defeats the whole purpose if you do it yourself.”

You submit, albeit with a stubborn pout. 

“Now say ‘aah’,” he prompts, thinking you might really swing your fist. 

Begrudgingly, you lean in and open your mouth wide. “Aah.”

Floyd straightens up in his seat, his eyes the size of plates. He swallows thickly, curling his free hand into a fist. He feels his nails pierce his palm, sharpened points drawing the tiniest pricks of blood. You crack an eye open, all while your wide, impatient mouth gapes back at him.

“Never mind,” he mutters, stabbing the spoon into the pudding and shoving the dish at you. He avoids your searching eyes and instead burns quietly in the flames of his own embarrassed arousal.

“Ugh. I can’t believe I fell for such an obvious trick,” you scoff around a dainty bite of cake. “Honestly… Life was so much better before I found out you were my match.”

Awkwardly, he rubs the back of his neck. He could make dozens of home runs out of the depravity that’s become his thoughts, what with how frequently he’s batting them away. When he looks at his hand, he finds a thin membrane webbing between each of his fingers.

That can’t be good.

“You can have mine,” he blurts, nudging the pudding towards you. “’m not hungry.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “I don’t suppose you want something in return for your generosity?”

“What do ya have to offer?” he asks, swallowing the bucket of saliva pooling on his tongue. It coats his dry throat on the way down. He can’t think like this. Maybe he really is sick because you’re all he can smell right now. It’s like he’s zoned in on it, a shark drawn to blood. Nothing else matters. You’re the only Shrimpy in his sea.

Predators, he remembers, the reminder tacked onto his mental bulletin like an afterthought. 

Restlessly, he glances about. He flexes his fingers, curling and uncurling them. Deep down he’s aware this doesn’t mean anything. You’re not his mate, but he wants to protect you anyway. That’s probably the last thing you want, though. You’re a capable Shrimpy. It’s one of your many strengths. 

Still… It’s nice to pretend, if only for the moment.

“An actual date,” you say, sipping at your drink. 

The way your lips close around the straw is so unintentionally erotic it brings him back to a few minutes ago, when you opened your mouth at him. He should’ve reciprocated, but then it wouldn’t have meant anything. Not to you, anyway.

To clear his head and hopefully cool his boiling temperature, he stuffs a spoonful of pudding in his mouth. It’s sugary but not nearly as much as he’s certain you are. If he licked a stripe up your neck, perhaps he’d know your taste for sure.

“Since we’re here, we might as well, right?” you add and he’s brought back to the present. “And then after that we never have to see each other again.”

“Uh-huh…”

He remains unconvinced. No matter how much you push him away, he’ll still be there to pop up and surprise you on campus.

He’s a bother, and you—sitting beautiful and shimmering in the glow of spring courtship—are everything he’s ever dreamed of.

So it’s definitely eggs, he decides, his mind made up. How else can he explain the smell and the softness, all tell-tale signs of a mate in waiting?

Floyd has never been one to pursue smooth seas, preferring the euphoria of a hard-earned success. But Sea Witch below does he wish today wasn’t so challenging. How is he supposed to express everything in his heart if you can’t even read his body language? He’s not even sure if he can gauge yours. Do you want to mate with him? That’s why you prettied up your fins and…

No.

No, no, no.

He has to remember this is a blind date. You had no idea it was going to be him and neither did he. He wants to come out and say it because the complexities of moray courtship are struggling to get through the muddiness of your own human signs.

It occurs to Floyd he could just cast a spell so that his thoughts are broadcasted to you and he can read yours. But that’s a dirty trick, one that would be heavily frowned upon in the sea and perhaps even on land as well. It’s all so complex. He doesn’t have the energy for all of this thinking.

With a petulant whine, he melts onto the table in a puddle of pouty Floyd. 

You raise a questioning brow and finish off the rest of your cake. “I’m eating your pudding so it doesn’t go to waste.”

He waves you off. “Don’t got much of an appetite for it anyway.”

“Suit yourself.” Shrugging, you take a bite and hum in delight. The tiny smile that traces your lips stuns him.

Oh.

He’s never seen you smile like that before… Usually, if you’re smiling, it’s one of malice—directed at him and accompanied with the threat of a clenched fist.

From where his head rests against the table, he’s free to admire you and your gluttony. Will this be enough? If you have eggs, you need to eat so much more than a measly slice of cake and some pudding. 

But before he can call the waiter over to order everything on the menu, there’s a loud tearing sound and then a heavy flop. He glances behind him and finds his tail is protruding from his lower back like a thick, winding snake. It thumps against the ground in anticipation, almost as if it’s wagging.

That’s fun!

“So,” he starts, lifting his head to look at you properly. He remembers something you told him over text, when it was well past midnight and the both of you had strayed into more private discussions. “Shrimpy’s never had her first kiss, hm?”

“And it’s not going to be with you, so don’t even try,” is your scathing comeback.

Fuck, he wants you.

A wild grin breaks out on his face, sharpening in time with the fins that pop out from his ears. Crisp sounds rush in all at once, as if the cotton has been tugged out. Traffic, nearby conversations, the shush-shush of the waves crashing against the rocks. He pulls a face at the cacophony assaulting his hyper-sensitive ear-fins.

You stare at him. “You’re…green.”

“Huh?”

But then his fins shred through his sleeves and it becomes apparent his mer features are starting to poke through his human disguise. Teal flashes across his skin in speckled patches, swallowing up what’s left of his previously pale coloration. 

This is odd because, as much as he despises it, he choked back that nasty potion just a few days ago to avoid this exact scenario. What gives?

It’s in this transitional stage, the space between half-human, half-mer, that the haze really settles in. Floyd staggers to his feet, rifling around for his wallet, and slams a fistful of bills down. It’s getting bad. He needs something he can’t have, and if he spends any more time here…

“We should go,” you say before he can, already out of your chair. “You need to get back to school or… Well, I guess if it comes down to it we can go to Craneport and throw you in the water there. It’s not too far from here.”

“Aww. Worried I’m gonna dry out?” He manages a casual tone despite the heat bubbling in his blood.

“As if. I just don’t want to haul your heavy eel ass around.” Scoffing, you step out from under the shade of the umbrella.

Just in time for the first few droplets of rain to come pattering down. You and Floyd glance skyward before sharing a quiet look. He extends his hand to catch a few drops on his palm.

“Look at that. The weather wants us to stay together,” he remarks, delirious.

“Even the universe wants us to split,” you speak over him.

“Hee-hee. The universe’s gonna hafta try harder than that. This is nothin’.”

As if in response to his challenge, lightning flashes across the sky in a crackling arc. It’s quickly followed by deep, rumbling thunder. Again, you and Floyd eye each other. His wide, toothy grin makes you frown. But that becomes the least of your worries when a smattering of rain comes pouring down on both of you. 

You gasp, your hands flying up to protect yourself. “My clothes! My hair!”

Floyd watches you fall into a panicked sprint, his tail swishing to and fro. He doesn’t care about the many stares he’s starting to draw when he takes off after you, his obnoxious laughter echoing down the path. His clothes are already ruined. A rainstorm isn’t going to make any difference. 

You take shelter in an alley, beneath an awning shared by conjoined buildings. Just beyond, a steady curtain of rain falls. Floyd marvels at it with a whistle. What a downpour… The forecast didn’t say anything about rain, but then he supposes that’s normal for springtime on land.

“As if this day couldn’t get any worse,” he hears you mutter. Floyd’s gaze pans from the slick street to you and finds you’re shivering. Your arms are wrapped around yourself and his mismatched eyes travel down, down, down.

Your blouse is clinging to your body and through the sopping fabric he can see the frilly outline of your bra. Unconsciously, his tongue darts out to wet his lips. He tastes sweat-tinged rain as it trails down his face in salty streaks. When he brushes his matted hair out of his eyes—and it feels more like he’s draped a mop of seaweed over his head—he finds you’ve lowered your arms and are now attempting to check your makeup with a pocket mirror.

“Nooo. I spent so much time on it, too…”

Can you get any cuter? If he could afford just the smallest peek, maybe he’d see what type of panties you’re wearing. Are they as lacy as your bra? Are they thin like it, too, allowing him to see the pebbled peaks of your nipples poking through?

Damn it all to the deepest trench! Floyd can’t take it anymore! He needs to know.

“How big is it?” he blurts, grabbing your shoulders. He’s careful not to dig his claws into you, even though his instincts are telling him to shred that silky blouse to ribbons, snap through the strap of your bra with a voracious chomp, and make you his. But you’re precious, not prey, and so he’ll try to exercise some restraint. 

You blink back at him in bewilderment. “What are you talking about?”

“You know…” he trails off in hopes that you’ll fill in the empty space.

“No, I don’t.” You shake him off, but he’s quick to latch onto your wrists next. “Seriously, I don’t! What’s gotten into you? You’re acting weird.”

Floyd inhales through his nose. A bad move because your pheromones or perfume—whatever the fuck it is—invade his senses all over again. He can’t keep swatting the inevitable away. It’s only a matter of time before his biology incapacitates him. But while he’s still semi-coherent he’s going to take this opportunity to tell you everything that’s been on his mind ever since he first saw you. 

That’s the plan, at least. How much of it he intends to follow, good question. 

You’re staring at him like he’s lost his mind and maybe he has, drenched and looking like a teal Godzilla. He pulls back to rake his hands through his soaked hair. 

“Y-Your clutch,” he mutters. “Can never tell in human form.”

“My…clutch. You want to know how big my clutch is. As in, like, eggs?” 

“Mhm.”

He avoids looking at you out of sheer embarrassment—this sort of thing requires tact and sly communication, not direct fumbling that could be borderline begging—so he can’t imagine what expression you might be making. There’s a long, drawn out silence. He prepares himself to be slapped or berated—maybe both.

You touch his arm gingerly. He peers at you. 

“If you were struggling, say so. Gosh, you’re so stubborn.”

Warmth and concern are hidden in those criticizing eyes. Even though your tone feels more like a scolding, it lifts his mood to know you care. He’d tease you for it, but he’s just not feeling it right now.

Floyd shakes off his reservations like a dog drying itself. For once, he doesn’t know what to say or do as he watches you through lidded eyes.

“I don’t really understand what’s going on, but you don’t feel good, right?” At that, he offers a small nod. “You were forcing yourself this entire time. Why didn’t you just leave? Why stick around and suffer?”

“Cuz Shrimpy was really lookin’ forward to this. Didn’t wanna disappoint ya.”

He wanted to impress you, show you that he’s a worthy mate, but that feels impossible now. With his back to the wall, he slides down until he’s sitting on the wet pavement. He’ll probably change back into a moray mer soon. Maybe the rain is delaying it. Maybe it’s the magical properties of the potion regulating what’s left of his human form.

You step into his line of sight then. His gaze travels up your stocking-clad legs. Before he can picture what’s beneath your skirt, you’re crouching down to view him. “I don’t think it matters whether you disappoint me or not.”

Yeah, it does. It matters cuz I like ya and want ya to have a good time.

“So you don’t have eggs,” he says, switching topics.

You sigh. “Yes, Floyd, I don’t have eggs. I’ve never had eggs. Not in the way you’re thinking. Humans don’t lay eggs.”

He knew that. Learned it in land boot camp. A shame. You’d look adorable saddled with a clutch or two.

But if that’s not the case, what’s with your smell? It can’t be perfume. Even the strongest of scents can’t compare to this. This is a sweetness that’s coming from between your legs, he’s sure of it. 

You’re reaching into your purse now. “What’s Azul’s number? I’ll give him a call. Don’t push yourself.”

His tail moves without thinking, coiling around your waist to drag you closer. The force of it knocks you forward. With a startled yelp, you shoot your arms out to brace yourself against the wall, unintentionally caging him in. He gazes up at you, an unfocused stare that you hold with newfound intensity.

“Floyd,” you breathe, and he can see you’re scanning his face for answers.

Gently, you run your fingers over the dark swirls on his cheekbones. He gives a full-body shudder in response, biting back an enthusiastic trill when your touches trail to his ear-fins. He flexes his tail and squeezes your waist. He shouldn’t let it go further than this.

But if he does he could finally have you.

“I’ll help. Whatever this is, I’ll…do my best.”

Now it’s his turn to be confused. “You sure?”

You glance at his lap. Floyd follows your line of sight to find his cock pressed prominently against his pants. You swipe his hair back and hold your hand to his forehead.

“You’re burning up! Why would you even come out in the first place if you’re so sick?”

“Didn’t think it’d get this bad.”

You huff. “You’re unbelievable. Aren’t you scared?”

“Course not. How can I be when Nurse Shrimpy is takin’ good care of me?” He tries a playful smirk, but it falls short into a grimace.

“Whatever.” A serious look passes over your face next. “I’m not sure what to do, but… But I think it’s safe to…to do it. That’s what you need, isn’t it?”

Floyd drags you into his lap. “More or less, yeah.”

He doesn’t have to get into the details. That’s for future Floyd to explain…or not.

“Okay. Then… Hurry up and get it over with. The rain’s cold.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll warm ya up.”

“If I get sick from this, I’ll kill you.”

“Hee-hee.”

You shift awkwardly, searching for the right rhythm when you press down against his erection. Floyd hisses through his teeth. It almost doesn’t seem real. He thinks he can feel your pussy through your panties, and he wonders if they’re just wet from the rain or from something else. While you roll your hips, his hands move up to fiddle with the buttons on your blouse. It’s significantly harder to undo them when his claws are long and curved, and in a fit of impatience he grabs hold of the fabric and yanks it open. It comes away with a rip, buttons popping off and exposing your rain-slick skin and bra, much to his minacious delight.

“Floyd!” You yelp as he tips you backwards, pressing you against the cobbled ground. This new position allows him to slot himself between your legs, where he ruts like a mindless animal.

“I’ll get you a new one,” he promises, his mouth laving over your neck.

He just barely remembers to tug his pants and boxers down enough to free his cock, now more moray in structure, the shaft tinted teal and peppered with dozens of nubs. He nearly shreds through his underwear when his claws catch on the waistband. All you can manage is an aggrieved whine, which soon tapers off into a low moan when the head of his cock bumps against your clit.

“Off.”

“Wait, wait! I’ll do it. This is my nicest pair—don’t you dare ruin them.”

He’s sure they’re nice, but right now he doesn’t have time to appreciate them in full. He needs to be inside you or else he’ll pass out. The want is unbearable. Fuck, he wishes this was the sea. It would be easier to entice you there, with colors and scents and shows of strength. It’s way too complicated on land.

Your panties aren’t even halfway down your legs before he’s burrowing himself between your soft folds. It feels better than anything he’s ever known before. You’re warm and gooey inside, squeezing him like you’re intent on snapping his dick in half. And suddenly he can’t think or speak. Everything is blank as he grabs your hips and pulls you down. Your pussy swallows him up in one reckless thrust, and you squeak in surprise when it knocks against your deepest part. He feels your arms wrap around his neck, your legs twisting around his waist, and you cling to him like you’re afraid the storm will sweep you away. 

He can’t muster another second of patience or restraint, so he slams in and out of you at an erratic pace, chasing the euphoric bliss that’ll finally satisfy every instinct buzzing beneath his skin. 

“S-Slow down, Floyd! I ca—aah—can’t! S’too much,” you babble and dig your nails into his back, which only serves to embolden the brutal snap of his hips against yours.

“Shorry,” he rasps against your skin, his mouth watering with so much drool it drips in fat, warm drops and puddles in the slope between shoulder and neck.

He’s a pathetic moray. He can’t even offer you a nice cave to curl up in. He can’t even manage the patience to prepare you, to work you up until you’re glistening with desire. The best he can do is this filthy alley during the worst weather ever, and even then it’s far from romantic. 

To offer you a modicum of comfort, he slides his tail beneath you to raise your ass for a better angle and provide a pillow for your head. You cry out a string of incoherent words. He pants against your pulse, the little heartbeat pounding in time with his own. 

It’s wet and filthy and desperate. He’s not even sure if he’s breathing. All he knows is that he needs to fill you until you’re heavy with his seed, until your pussy weeps nothing but cum. You can’t walk around with your fins all prettied up, smelling like a sweet treat, attracting the worst kinds of predators with each step. If you smell more like him—if every inch of you is marked by him—no one else would dare to approach you. He’ll make damn sure of it.

Oh, that’s what this is.

Mating season.

Perhaps he could’ve gotten it out of his system if he stayed on campus and swam laps in Octavinelle’s special pool. He’s not used to feeling it in spring, but then his cycle has never followed any set schedule. It’s only this bad because he saw you—because he caught your scent and it flipped the switch in his brain, the one that’s screaming at him to breed his mate.

Because that’s what you are, even if you don’t know it yet.

That’s what you’re going to be. Biology won’t give you a choice.

Floyd grits his teeth, his pace mostly uneven now. He won’t bite. He’s not sure he can control his strength, and if he sinks his teeth into you what’s stopping him from tearing the flesh from your bones? Instead, he presses sloppy, open-mouthed kisses to the space above your heart. His arms twist tightly around you to keep you trapped in place.

It’s fine if you think he’s scum or the worst moray in the Coral Sea. 

Nothing is more titillating than a challenge.

Wrapped up in you and your hypnotic scent, your breathless voice in his ears, he cums so hard his vision whites out. You seem to have done the same, for your pussy clenches like a vise, rendering you boneless beneath him.

The haze in his head is dizzying. He blinks until color returns and that’s when he tugs your skirt up to see where you’re connected. He’s buried snugly inside, keeping all of his cum plugged deep. Your chest rises and falls with every wheezing gasp, and in this moment you are so fragile he thinks you might shatter if he fucks into you without warning again.

A feral smile widens on his lips. 

“Hey, Shrimpy.” He nudges your cheek until your head lolls to the side. He knows you’re still conscious because your eyes, ringed with ruined eyeliner, find his. “There you are. Don’t fall asleep on me, ’kay?”

Thunder rumbles in the distance. 

He leans in close. “Didja know? You came to this li’l date smellin’ suuuper sweet and I came sick.”

It takes a moment for you to register his words, but when you do all you can provide is an intelligent: “Huh?”

His hands settle on your spread legs, claws digging shallowly into the meat of your thighs. “Isn’t that funny?”

“Wha… I don’t…” You shake your head. “Don’t get it.”

“Hee-hee. Did I fuck all the brains outta ya? Oops. Guess you’ll figure it out later then.”

We’re each other’s cure, he thinks, his form shadowing yours.

And now a mated pair.

[applecherrytea]

Casper Rock Star

Request from Anon: HIIII Can I request some Danny Phantom/Fenton x rockstar!reader? Like, Reader is the musical star of the school, sings and plays the electric guitar like no one else. And loves to flirt, with Fenton flirts subtly, leaving the poor boy confused, but with Phantom is shameless. (if you do, please leave me anonymous 🙏

A/N: I’m honestly so happy to get my first request! It’s been a while since I’ve watched Danny Phantom but I’ll try my best to make this to the best of my capabilities! Thank you so much Nonnie for the RQ and I hope you enjoy!! I hope you don’t mind if I did a bit more here. I really wanted Phantom to flirt back, I hope you’re cool with that!

CW/TW: GN/Masc! Reader, fluff...that's it.

[Masterlist]

You really didn’t mean to get caught up in another ghost attack! Honest! It wasn’t your fault the big bad of the week decided that they were gonna use your body as a possessed hostage! If you did, you would’ve taken your band mates' offer to drive you home that night. You're so lucky that Phantom came on quickly to save you, for maybe the fourth time this month…

“Phantom! Wow, is it a coincidence or are you just really obsessed with seeing me?” You say as you wrap your arms around him, slowly lowering your neck onto his chest as he flies you back down from the insane ghost villain lair you were held in. “Or,’ the ghost started “you like me so much that you intentionally get ghosts to kidnap and possess you.” he chuckled as he lowered your body, as your feet touched solid ground, your other band mates started coming towards you. “ [reader], are you okay?” Andy questioned as they started patting you down in search of any injury. “I’m fine, Ands! Besides, Phantom saved me~” Phantom’s eyes darted over to the side as you leaned onto him in a mock sigh. “Just doing my job!” He said with his goofy smile.

“Thanks again Phantom!” Andy thanked the hero as they took you by the hand, the rest of the band following suit, fretting over you. You looked back and waved Phantom goodbye, who did the same as he watched you be pulled away and into a car. “Wipe the blush off Danny, you look terrible.” Danny yelps at Sam's sudden appearance beside him, Tucker close behind with his hands covering his face, trying not to laugh at his friend. “Could you both stop that? Besides, we don’t even interact in my civies! There’s no way they’re interested in me, only Phantom.” He said with a wave of his hand, “now come on, let’s get going. I don’t wanna wake up sleep deprived tomorrow.”

It was the next day already and you were walking through the halls of Casper High. As you walk through the jam-packed halls, you bump into the local ‘freak’ as people call him. Daniel Fenton. “Woah there Fenton! Don’t want you falling now do we?” you say as you help him stand properly, “Y-yeah. Thanks [reader]..” You stare at him confused, “We never interacted though, so how’d you know my name?” you smirked as you watched him blush and stammer “I uh! Heard about it from around! Yeah…” Danny scratched the back of his head in embarrassment as you chuckled. “Haha, well then, guess I’ll see you around Fenton.” you waved at him as you walked away. Danny waved back as well, red still tinting his cheeks. “Okay you’ve interacted. No more reason not to say they aren’t interested in you.” Sam said as she slung her arm around his neck.

“Gah!! Sam!” he yelped “I said stop doing that..”Danny said irritated as Tucker laughed behind him. “Man was that hilarious! You should have seen how stupid you looked!” Danny groaned as he continued walking to his class, Sam and Tucker close behind.

It was finally the end of the day, students rushed out of their classrooms to go out, and others went on to their clubs. You were one of those that stayed behind, practicing for the upcoming music fest that the town was gonna hold. You walked out of the classroom with confidence, guitar bag slung over one shoulder and backpack held in the other hand.

As you walk the halls, you bump once again into Danny. “Woah! Watch it kid, I might ask if you fell for me haha!” You joked as you helped him up from the ground. He winced as he stood up “Thanks [reader], sorry for bumping into you again…” he smiled lopsidedly, you raised your brow at him, eyeing him for a little while. “Hey, have we met before today?” you asked the boy, “I feel like I’ve seen you somewhat..” his eyes widen, he lets out an awkward chuckle, scratching the back of his neck. 

“Hehehe..I don’t know what you're thinking about.” he says, almost breaking in cold sweat as you inspect him further. “Nah, must have been someone else. Say, we’re gonna show at the music fest later this week. Wanna come and see us?” You invited Danny, he seemed to like it as his eyes glimmered for a bit. “Sure!” he replied, “I’d love to go and watch! You won’t mind if I bring my friends as well right?” you chuckle as you pat his shoulder, “Music fest’s for everyone. Bring who you’d like.” you winked as you walked away.

notes: Hiiii so sorry this is short! Wanted to pump this out as soon as possible…but worry not! I do plan on maybe making this a series, maybe a two parter. So stay updated for that one okay! Byeeee and thank you so much for reading this!!

[nibbelraz]

More YQY + baby thoughts: what if the one of the reasons yqy doesn't tell sj is because SJ doesn't remember making said child? They were together for just a little while, and from the way sj acted at the time, YQY thought they could move forward together...but SJ's memories were erased by the pollen/poison/whatever, and when YQY came to visit him the next day, SJ just sneered and kicked him out as usual. But yqy doesn't know that he forgot, so he's determined not to burden SJ further with a child he would never want when he clearly regrets being with YQY.

This misunderstanding doesn't get solved until several months later, after all the peak lords find out and assume that YQY was jilted by a lover who left when they were told about the baby. SJ is the most furious of all of them, and anonymously sends YQY baby clothes/toys and things to make him more comfortable. But as the weeks go by and YQY gets progressively more heartbroken, SJ bursts into his house on QDP and demands to know who the father is so he can kill him, before telling YQY to stop looking so desperate because SJ is taking responsibility and they'll tell the world the child is his.

SJ: I won't let that wretch humiliate you any further. I'll get rid of him, marry you, and raise your baby with you. No one but the other peak lords needs to know I'm not the biological father.

YQY is very confused, but he finally understands that SJ doesn't KNOW he's the father, so qijiu get their making up and happy ending scene. ♡

HE DOESN'T KNOW HES THE FATHER BUT DAMN HIM IF HES GOING TO LET THEM HUMILIATE YUE QINGYUAN LIKE THAT

He'll just have time be a father, oh well He'll have to take care of this cute baby and his Qi ge this has nothing to do with the fact he still wants to care for him nooooo nothing.

I can see Yue Qingyuan still bed ridden and having being fret over (to the best of Shen Jius ability of course he's still going to be Shen Jiu)

He's holding the baby while they cry and he's gently glaring while rocking them "what a fussy spoiled little thing" like he's not the one spoiling. Yue Qingyuan is gently smiling in the back cause ah he would spoil Shen Jiu like that if he could.

[patolemus]

Sterek fic recs: ABO/Mpreg AU Edition

As per @oldefashioned's request, since this is for her, here you go. I tried to filter my bookmarks, so these are more about the plot than the smut. There's probably a lot of ABO without mpreg, but I hope some of these change your mind about it!!

1. Fire, Fury and Flame by IAmAVeronica

Stiles Stilinski was never going to be the omega who got knocked up right after high school, and then he's accidentally artificially inseminated with a stranger's sperm. Awesome. And the father of Stiles's baby just so happens to be Derek Hale. Half-feral, quite possibly a murderer, and pursued by a gleefully sadistic band of hunters who are only too eager to use Stiles and his baby to hit Derek right where it hurts. Joy.

Notes: this is Jane the Virgin if there were werewolves and abo. It’s absolutely phenomenal. That's it, I have nothing else to say, 10/10. It's completed!

2. I don't know why, but I guess it has something to do with you by LunaCanisLupus_22

“You smell like me,” the guy says, scowling as he crowds in and Stiles staggers back between the coats and finally hits the wall. “Why do you smell like me?” He barely lets out a garbled sound as the blood rushes to his cheeks. “No reason,” Stiles yelps, struggling to get his footing and grasping at a whirlwind of puffy fur. Or the one where Stiles goes thrift shopping and steals an alpha's shirt. And gets a lot more than he bargains for.

Notes: Stiles does something he's not supposed to. Derek is... confused. It ends up pretty okay. Also kind of an office au?? Anyways they're both dorks and I love them. It's completed, but you need to have an account to see this work.

3. Take Me Away From Here by Hedwig221b (also @hedwig221b here on tumblr!)

Derek Hale looked terrifying. With his broad frame and muscles, with his wild black hair and thick beard, with his eyes the color of blood and fangs of a killer. Despite his kindness and his apparent attraction to Stiles, he was still a stranger, a predator, a wolf. The thing is, Stiles would deal, but others might not. People found Lord Hale horrid, monstrous and unapproachable. If Stiles stood behind him, no one would touch him. He’d be safe with the wolf. If not from him, then definitely from everyone else. And that was enough.

Notes: of course I had to rec at least one Hedwig abo fic, they're the best! Don't you worry, there's a lot more in this list. This is a historical au... sort of. If history had werewolves and omegas. Don't worry, it works out fine. The whole world building in itself is interesting, because it treates omegas like a different species. Derek, my beloved, always and forever obsessed with Stiles! It gets dark for a little while, but don't fret, all is okay in the world. It's completed!

4. Scent Left Unsaid by bleep0bleep

In a society where werewolves are second class, Deucslist is an alternative werewolf network (similar to Craigslist) where humans and werewolves offer (mostly sexual) services. Derek is a long-term client of an anonymous human omega whose scent is just perfect. He never expects to meet him, until it happens.  Derek has slept with that faded red hooded sweatshirt every night since he got it in the mail. It’s calming, that scent; it’s everything to him. So it’s strange now that Derek is smelling it wafting from the end of the subway car as it careens towards the L line, lights flickering on the passing platforms.

Notes: imagine meet cute, only Derek is too socially awkward to actually enact the necessary steps to make it a meet cute, and Stiles has to do it instead. Also using the good old trope of Stiles' scent being like cocaine to Derek. It's very wholesome, and it's completed.

5. Never a Hardship by Julibean19 

“Derek, meet Stiles, your new bodyguard,” Talia says. Derek doesn’t get up. He’s frozen to his seat on the couch, staring at the man who will now be hounding his every step. “What’s a Stiles?” he asks dumbly, finally budging when his mother smacks him on the shoulder.  “That’s Chief Stiles to you,” his mother says, scolding him. Derek huffs in annoyance, wondering how this could possibly get worse. “Senior Chief Stilinski is a Navy SEAL, Special Operations Forces, and has been handpicked by me, out of several hundred options. You will treat him with respect and do what he says.” “I’m a grown man, Madam President,” Derek says through clenched teeth. “You can’t expect me to listen to this guy. I don’t know anything about him."

Notes: I love First Family aus! And Omega First Son!Derek with Alpha Bodyguard!Stiles is just delightful. There's a lot of omega politics, and Stiles gets to be a total badass when he and Derek are not pining after each other. Also, Chris Argent, surprisingly, is the best. I don't know what else to say without spoiling everything, so just know this is amazing! It's completed.

6. A Sheep In Wolf's Clothing by dumpac

"What the fuck, Stiles, what the fuck?!" "No, no, you don't understand, Scotty, this is the best idea ever!" "Because you think registering as a fucking alpha to college when you're actually an omega is the best idea ever? It's not even a good idea!" Or : Being an omega, Stiles has few chances to be accepted in the college of his dreams. Registering as an alpha seems like a good idea... until his new roommate, hot-as-the-sun alpha Derek Hale, comes in the equation.

Notes: I know I say this a lot but this fic is SO GOOD!! Stiles pretends to be an alpha and IT WORKS because he's a badass, only things go a little bit sideways because he's not an alpha and Derek... well Derek has no idea. My poor man is confused. Also has a dash of good old discrimination against omegas and nepotism. One of my favorite abo AND college au fics. It's completed.

7. Untouchable by Hedwig221b

The day Stiles Stilinski entered the Berkeley campus was the day all the alphas went absolutely fucking nuts. See, omegas were rare, even more than redheads. Got to be extremely fucking lucky to even see one in a lifetime. They were supposed to be these ethereal creatures of beauty and elegance, irresistible and blinding. And Stiles Stilinski was exactly that.

Notes: another Hedwig fic hehe. This one makes me go feral EVERY TIME. Literally one of my favorite fics to ever exist, I think I've read it three times in the last month and a half alone. If you're looking for unhinged sterek with absolutely besotted Derek, and pretty omega Stiles who has only eyes for him, this is the fic for you. They are literally so great!! 10/10, please please please go read this. It's completed.

8. You Smell Like Mine by bleep0bleep, marguerite_26 

People talk about the alpha instinct, an alpha's head being swayed by a nice-smelling omega, or the desire to drop everything and show off. Derek's never felt any of that. He's just not that kind of alpha. Then he meets Stiles.

Notes: I love Derek in this, he's trying SO HARD to remain nonchalant over Stiles, but he never stood a chance. One whiff of Stiles' scent and he was a goner, pathetically entranced. Good thing Stiles wants him back hehe. A sprinkle of Enemies to Lovers (and really, can we say it's sterek if it doesn't have enemies to lovers who are inexplicably drawn to each other despite their best efforts to appear indifferent?). It's completed.

9. His Only Defence by LunaCanisLupus_22

Stiles had just accidentally challenged an alpha. Oh God, and Scott had just stood by and let him do it. He was the worst best friend ever. Stiles was going to kill him. Except, oh right, the alpha was going to kill him first. Like beyond dead, ripped into tiny little pieces dead. So far dead that his dad would not be able to identify him, dead.

Notes: I honestly don't know how to explain this one. It's a modern au, only archaic abo rules exist and Stiles and Derek... well, Stiles is Stiles and Derek is Derek. They work it out. It's completed, but you need to have an account to read this work.

10. cheer up, babe by graveltotempo, SpringlockedSpectre

He was the basketball captain. And he was a cheerleader. Can I make it any more clear? OR: Derek Hale thought he had his crush on Stiles Stilinski under control. And then Stiles decided to show up to school in a skirt.

Notes: Derek is pining and makes a fool of himself all the time in front of Stiles. Stiles, thankfully for Derek, finds it charming. That's it, that's the fic. It's completed. I also recommend checking up graveltotempo's other works, they're great!

11. Love's Violent Delights by Dexterous_Sinistrous

Derek caught the way the man’s eyes looked over Stiles before lingering on his ass. He waited for the clerk to place the key on the counter before he reacted. Stiles startled at the loud noise, turning away from the pamphlets in the display box to see Derek pinning the clerk’s head against the counter. He drew in an even breath, looking between the struggling man and Derek. Derek briefly looked at Stiles, hesitating before he saw the gleam of excitement in Stiles’ eyes and the hint of lust in his scent. “Ever look at him, or any other Omega, like that again, and I’ll slice your eyes out with my claws.” He shoved the man back, not caring of the commotion that was made as he snatched up the key from the counter.

Notes: this makes me go feralllll it's so good. The Sheriff is imprisoned for what basically amounts to bullshit charges, and he and Derek share a cell. When Derek is freed, he looks for Stiles to make good on his promise to the Sheriff to take care of him. Somehow, they end up running from the law lol, my little criminal babies. Their relationship here is so uuuuuuughhhhh so wonderful! There's also critics to the system and talk about abo politics. It's completed.

12. Side Character by Hedwig221b

He should’ve kept his mouth shut. He should’ve smiled like always. Now everything was ruined, crushed, destroyed. Dust, shards, and the remnants of his pride. Love that no one needed. Derek’s gaze scalded the side of his face but Stiles refused to meet it. He had already revealed too much.

Notes: Hedwig, as always, writes such good stories! Seriously one of my favorite sterek writers! Stiles is oblivious and pining, Derek is also oblivious and pining, only in a completely different manner. They still end up together because they are meant to be in EVERY UNIVERSE. This doesn't have the traditional Alpha/Omega pairing, since Stiles is a Beta (really, the root of all this issue in the first place) He is very insecure in this one, but Derek is here for him. It's completed.

13. Made Your Mark on Me (A Golden Tattoo) by writteninthewolfstar

Beacon Hills High and Lycan Heights High are well-known enemies. Derek Hale, Lycan Heights' star quarter-back, is well-known for being aggressive and arrogant. Imagine Stiles surprise when he discovers that Derek Hale is actually his soul-mate.

Notes: this is a very sweet one. Pretty light hearted, especially compared to canon. The bullying does get a little intense at some points, though, so if that's triggering proceed with caution. Jock Derek, my beloved. Stiles is a loner, and also very insecure on this one! But Derek is an absolute sweetheart and a real champ, so love conquers all. Has some Bad Friend Scott, too, so if that's something you're interested in, this is your fic. It's completed.

14. We Gotta Hide What We're Doin' by CharWright5

As a Bodyguard within the Stilinski Rodzina, Derek's one and only job is to watch over the Omega son—and only child—of the Family's Head, Stiles, a task that is easier said than done some nights. It's just good that the Alpha knows the best way to punish the little troublemaker when his bratty behavior threatens to expose a secret that could get the Bodyguard killed.

Notes: this one has a lot of smut, and the premise is absolutely killer. I'm actually very sad it's not 200k words long, but what can you do? Stiles is the heir to a Mafia Empire, and Derek an enforcer and Stiles' personal bodyguard since he was young. Stiles is a spoiled brat here, but Derek likes that hehe. It's also a secret relationship. It's kiiiiind of dark, since this is a mafia au, but nothing too terrible. To be honest the most explicit part is the smut. It's completed.

15. Survival of the Species by Lissadiane

“I think I’m dying.” Nothing makes sense – and now Derek has left him. “No, Mr. Stilinski,” Deaton says grimly, rooting around in his special cupboard of herbs and remedies. “I’m afraid not. You’re merely suffering from a biological imperative to bear your alpha’s children and strengthen the pack.” Stiles considers that for a moment, as best he can with his mind a hazy mess, and then he says quietly, “I think that might be worse.” “So, so much worse,” Scott agrees. * In which Derek's pack is apparently stable enough to begin planning for the future, and somehow, the universe has decided Stiles is the perfect candidate to bear his alpha's children.

Notes: honestly?? One of the best fics I've read about mpreg, not just in the Teen Wolf, but in general. It keeps things real, everyone is the appropriate amount of freaked out, for a while no one is having a good time, and there's enough to hint at body horror that my angst thirst is satisfied. Don't worry though, everything's fine! And there's no actual body horror, Stiles just has a very wild imagination. There's also not actual mpreg either, it's just discussed. It's complete.

16. before the world catches up by negativelyme

Stiles is a beta, so he’s never been a part of the annual Winter Mating Rituals that take over his high school. Or so he thinks.

Notes: this one is so wholesome! Derek truly is trying his very best, you can do it, Derek! Stiles' I'm-a-Beta-no-one-wants-me issues are getting in the way of true love. All ends well. It's completed.

17. All You Ever Needed to Know About Knotting by orphan_account

Derek had started reading the column by accident. Really, reading strangers’ questions about knotting and heat had never really appealed to him. However, at that point in time, he was a little desperate. And he was right: most of the questions submitted by anonymous readers didn’t appeal to him. The answers, though, did. (Or: In which Stiles writes an advice column about knotting and Derek is smitten. Also they're neighbors.)

Notes: it's pretty much what it says in the summary. Overall very wholesome, made me laugh. Derek is absolutely precious here. It's completed.

18. You Want Me Back by graveltotempo

Stiles and the Hale pack come back to Beacon Hills for a High School reunion.

Notes: classic 10 year reunion fic (or maybe it's not classic in this fandom?? Tbh, most of the reunion fics I've read are from KHR), Stiles comes back to BH married and with a child. He, Jackson and Isaac are the best of bests, and Derek is, of course, wonderful. Peter is also pretty great, even if he appears for like 5 seconds. Canon Divergent from season 3b, bad friend Lydia, bad friend Scott. There's an epic smackdown and the Hales are basically top dogs. It's completed.

19. Over the Moon by likeshipsonthesea

Stiles and Derek spend a night together, and Derek, thinking he's protecting Stiles, tells him it was a mistake. Stiles leaves Beacon Hills. He also leaves behind 6 letters to say goodbye to the pack. From his letters, the pack thinks he's killed himself. Meanwhile, Stiles is in NYC, living with Jackson, going to Columbia, oh, and he's pregnant.

Notes: Derek is an idiot, but his heart is in the right place. Misscomunication ensues, basically, and it escalates way too much. Jackson and Stiles' broship is literally the best thing ever, I love them!!!! We should have more fics with them being the best duo ever.

20. the Jurisdiction series by elisera

John is a pretty level-headed guy. He wasn’t always, back during his own Sturm und Drang period, but he married a firecracker of a woman and got a kid with an affinity for trouble like he got payed for ending up in it, so someone had to level out or they would’ve ended up living in a treehouse or Lapland doing god knows what. Anyway, getting a hold of his temper is one of John’s better life achievements. It makes him a good sheriff and it kept him from blowing his lid too badly those last two years when Stiles started acting out in a way that John had never seen before.  But the temper is still there. He’s reminded of it when he comes home on a random Saturday in March after spilling his milkshake all over his uniform shirt only to notice he didn’t have a spare in the station and finds Stiles bend over the kitchen sink with hunched shoulders.

Notes: the first part of the series gets, admittedly, pretty violent. Everything after that is very wholesome though. The Sheriff is an absolute gem in this one! Also, the mpreg is a very important factor after the first part of the series, but the first part is mostly just sterek pining and the aforementioned violent events. I'd mind the tags. It's completed.

21. What To Expect When You're Expecting (A Litter of Sourwolf Puppies) by Brego_Mellon_Nin

The Sheriff sighs and plops down in a chair opposite his son. “Stiles, I’m going crazy here. We need to get you to a doctor. You sleep like you’re trying to get into the Guinness Book of World Records, and your eating habits are bizarre! You vomit around the clock and for some reason only the tea your mother used when she was pregnant will get your stomach to settle down for any length of time. Is there something you aren’t telling me? Can werewolves get guys pregnant? I’ve noticed how you look at that Hale kid-”  Stiles meeps and flails, sloshing tea down his front. Luckily it’s not scalding anymore, but still hot, so he jumps up and wrenches his shirt off. “God, dad, no! Guys can’t get pregnant, that’s ridiculous, it’s like...” “Like werewolves being real?” his dad questions, deadpan.

Notes: a wonderful accidental pregnancy fic. I love the Sheriff on this one, he's so supportive and actually has a hold of every single braincell because he is just THAT great. Stiles is also lovely, and while Derek is missing for like the first third of the fic he's great, too. This are pretty fluffy all around! It's completed.

22. I Don't Blame You for Being You (but you can't blame me for hating it) by LadySlytherin 

Derek hits Stiles with his Camaro - 'Dammit, Stiles, it was an accident!'...'Why don't I believe you?' - and hilarity ensues.

Notes: do you know how there are fics that make you go 'I LOVE STEREK SO MUCH AAAAAAAAAAH'? Well, this is one of them. Derek hits Stiles with his car, Stiles ends with a broken leg, Derek gets to take care of him while he recovers as payment. Oh, and there's a fight about which pack Stiles actually belongs to, but that works itself out. It's pretty great. It's also completed.

23. Predators by Hedwig221b

He was born for this. Nature itself whispered into his ear where he should put his hands, how to twirl his tongue just right and when to bite. Stiles knew well enough that his saliva was currently working its magic on this unfortunate man, making him hungry, lustful, and insatiable. Soon, all his thoughts would be consumed by Stiles. And, just this once, Stiles would allow Derek to consume him.

Notes: to be honest, I thought I'd be putting this on another section, since this is a creature!Stiles fic (and it'll definitely go there when I make that fic rec list), but if it has mpreg then it has mpreg. This is actually one of my favorite fics ever!! I feel like I'm always saying this but it bears repeating, so: Hedwig always makes such great stories (as proven by the sheer amount of Hedwig fics I have in my rec lists lol). Stiles is so uuuuuugh in this one, I love him! And Derek! Oh lord, Derek makes me go feral here. Honestly, so good! It's completed, but do mind the tags because it gets... intense.

24. Disposition by Tulikettu

Stiles has an itch. A kinky, kinda dirty itch he needs to scratch.  So why not go on the Internet and look for a complete stranger to scratch it?  Derek needs a partner for his rut.  What a coincidence.

Notes: alright so this last one really veers off track from the rest of this list. It's basically pure smut so if you're not into that, don't read it. It also doesn't actually have mpreg, it's just discussed (and barely as a subject, since in their current present it isn't possible). Also, the kinks are... well, they are. There are some pretty triggering stuff in here so please mind the tags before you read, because if it's in the tags, you will read it, in detail. Other than that, it's pretty great! Stiles and Derek are very obsessed with each other, as they should. It's completed!

And this is everything. I honestly surprised myself with the amount of fics that ended up here, I hadn't realized I'd read that many sterek fics with ABO and mpreg. I hope you like these, Shar! And of course, anyone else who bounds finding this, I hope you enjoy these too.

[sgiandubh]

Pants on fire

Y'all pretty much stopped -actively- following Sarah H, right?

Well, let's see what she did post last Monday:

For our distinguished Spanish Mafia representatives, here is the gist of it:

During an anonymous Q&A session on Insta, she was asked if she would allow the person she currently dates meet her son. Question was formulated as a possibility only, by the way.

Her answer was crystal clear, despite her terrible, terrible English grammar, and I am going to translate it in Spanish, for once:

'Gracias. Hace 5 años, me separé del padre de K y nunca le he presentado a Kayson a nadie con quien haya salido en estos últimos 5 años. Solo lo haría si estuviera segura de que estaré con este hombre para siempre. No estoy de acuerdo con personas entrando y saliendo de su vida, esto no es justo. Enrollarse resulta más difícil, ya que K está conmigo la mayor parte del tiempo, pero está bien.'

This goes to show two important, yet predictable things:

a) the Traditional Troll lied through her teeth. She always does. People never learn, just because obsession blurs all the damn lines between what is reasonable speculation and what is dingbat lying.

b) the other Sad Mythomaniac insinuating she spoke to Steve the Climber, who allegedly confirmed S was spotted in that GLA park with K was well... just a sad (and desperate) mythomaniac:

I am sorry, pumpkins. Park Anon was correct. I did not invent it, no matter how hard you'd pretend. You should also know by now I never send Anons. I also happen to think both of these cheap pretexts spoil the fandom experience entirely, something I have no wish to do. For me or anyone else - and yes, that includes Mordor, too. When I say something, I sign and own it loud and clear. And I take no prisoners.

Thank you for the tip - you know who you are and you always, always deliver 😘💖.

I am back, biatches 🤣🤣🤣.

[Later edit]: updated for exact reference of Sad Mythomaniac (not the only one). And pumpkin, don't fret: I am Romanian. Also, what about Frosty the Snowman @ Cawdermill and those sets of two different handprints, huh? #Hogmanay

[lemotmo]

Really going to need people to allow themselves to believe it's happening. Also the point about Oliver's fandom comment is really good. I didn't even think of that.

Q. I have a two part question that maybe goes together, haha. What are the odds Holy Mother of God has nothing to do with Eddie at all? Did you not think what Oliver said about fandom was maybe his way of saying he doesn't like it?

A. The odds of episode 11 not being centered on Eddie are slim to none. That is very likely the Eddie/Texas centric episode. The title screams Eddie. Catholic guilt, mother issues, Shannon. It's all there. If people really want something to worry about then I think the far more likely annoying outcome will be that Helena Diaz gets absolved of all her horribleness. This show seems to have a problem with redeeming people who are not worthy of redemption, especially parents. I'm hoping this one time they don't, and she gets what she truly deserves but if you just have to have something to fret about ,Helena being absolved of her sins is the thing that seems plausible.

Oliver's comments about fandom were not him saying he hates the fandom. It was a logical conclusion of everything he has witnessed and been forced to endure for the better part of a year. The Cameo nonsense with Lou was not normal behavior. Actors just don't do what he did. The separation of actor/show and fandom is necessary and we have all seen why this past year. We do not know these people. They are not the characters they play and too many people don't seem to understand that. Oliver has always been very forthcoming about how anxious he gets about all the online behavior anyway so this past year was probably very troubling for him. And for all we know the show also now has rules in place. If they are smart they have absolutely instituted some guidelines following Lou's abhorrent behavior. People genuinely need to understand how unprofessional and absolutely crazy what Lou did was. Oliver voicing the importance of separating the actors and the show from the fandom was a reasonable conclusion to this past year. It makes sense that Oliver would form that conclusion.

Thank you Nonny!

I think the Eddie-centric episode will either be 8x11 or 8x12. With the new title that has come out 'Holy Mother of God' I agree that it seems more likely that it'll be 8x11. Whether or not they'll take the same old route of redeeming people that shouldn't be redeemed? That remains to be seen. 🙄

I'm so excited to finally see some focus on Eddie though. 🤗

As for Oliver's comment about fandom? I just made my own post about that topic this morning. I'll link it here so anyone who is interested can read it.

Heads up! For anyone who is giving me the shifty eyes for reposting Ali's updates instead of reblogging. Read this.

Remember, no hate in comments, reblogs or inboxes. Let's keep it civil and respectful. Thank you.

If you are interested in more of Ali’s posts, you can find all of her posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.

[maple-the-awesome]

Twilight's Calling ||

Pairing: Twilight x GN! Reader

Words: 2,544

Requested by anonymous: Heeey. First of I love your writing style! It’s just amazing! Cause twilight is my fav. could you maybe write something like xreader with him, for example they’re in a battle or smth? Only if it’s okay ofc! Thanks a lot and have a good day and week! best wishes :) Twilight may or may not be my favorite Link, too (TP was the first game I finished, so I'm a little bias, okay?). I've had this draft lying around unfinished for awhile, so I figured this would be the perfect opportunity to finish it. Here you go, hun 💜

Zelda Masterlist 🤎Fandom Masterlist

It's getting pretty late. 'Late' as in the sun has long set and the last time you saw any of the boys was about an hour ago when Time finally managed to herd the remaining stragglers out of the room, although he was being a bit hypocritical seeing as he still lingered in the doorway for a good minute himself afterwards (not that you dared comment on it).

Since their heavy footsteps had faded into silence - and aside from the innkeeper sometimes shuffling down the hall or a sudden 'pop' of the bedside candle - you've been left entirely alone with your thoughts as they dance on the very edge of sleep, but you refuse to lose balance. It's your shift. You promised to be a good lookout and it took a lot of convincing to even get the position, so you can't disappoint no matter how heavy the weight upon your eyelids or heart is.

You've always been well aware of the risks that would come with this mission and from traveling alongside nine heroes of legend; troublesome young men and boys who can definitely handle themselves in battle, however none immune to making possible mistakes. You expected one to occur at some point, yet never wanted the aftermath to be anything too serious.

Wild getting a decent scar on his forehead was a scare when it initially happened, but he was back on his feet within the hour - less than that actually, because if you remember correctly, his quick recovery had been controversial and resulted in quite a bit of bickering. The bottom line is that Wild bounced back with little to no trouble thanks in part to his thick skull. This is different. Twilight has yet to follow his protege's example and it's been hours.

You must admit you underestimated the situation at first due to a lack of context. It's not to say you didn't care about Wolfie when he got struck, however there's a notable difference between a wild 'pet' that occasionally trails your group and the very man you've grown to secretly admire over the months you've spent traveling together. If you had known then that they are one of the same, you would've likely shared a similar level of panic as the Champion, but instead you were left in the dark until Four finally explained Twilight's secret to you.

Even at that moment, although more worried, you figured everything would be okay. Wolfie or Twilight, a fairy should be able to do the trick to heal the worst of injuries, so one can imagine your heartbreak once learning that, for some odd reason, the state of his wounds haven't changed even under a fairy's sacred touch. That's when you truly became fearful, but you refused to show it outwardly - no more than whatever made itself present on your face, anyway.

Making a fuss won't aid Twilight's condition nor will it calm the concerns of your friends, so instead you had mostly stayed out of the way until Time announced everyone should get some rest. At that point, you made your presence known, quick to shoot your hand into the air while volunteering to take the first shift for watching over Twilight. Champion was the only one to fight you for it and honestly, you still aren't certain how you won the argument, but here you are, sitting quietly at Twilight's bedside while trying desperately to keep yourself from descending into madness as you fret over his well-being.

He's doing somewhat better after Hyrule's magic managed to stop most of the bleeding, however his wound remains deep without any further healing progress and his skin is drained into a pale, sickly color clear even through the dim glow of candle light. He looks like shit and you'd guess he feels like it, too, seeing as his face curls into a pained expression every now and again, a whispered groan leaving him whenever he slightly shifts his body (not that he moves that much).

It's gotten a bit chilly tonight, however all blankets in the room have been laid over him and you refuse to swoop as low as to steal comfort from a dying man, so you simply keep huddled to yourself, half praying the next shift will come sooner and half praying it won't because a stubbornness inside you is somehow convinced that the simple act of you being here will keep himsafe from death's hands.

You don't pay much attention to the quiet groan that comes from the bed, having already bitterly accepted that there's nothing that can ease whatever pain haunts Twilight during his nightmares, although you do lift your head when a hand shakes its way into view, barely able to carry itself to the edge of the covers where it collapses with a broken echo from its owner, "W...What time is it?"

You almost cry simply by the sight of Twilight's dull eyes staring up at you, half-lidded and only appearing bright if compared to the dark bags hiding underneath them, but you manage to hold back the tears for the sake of not scaring him.

"I-I'm not sure. After sunset," You answer slowly as to prevent any wobbling to your voice.

"And the others? Is every - everyone else okay?" Hylia, he sounds awful, his once handsome, accent-laced voice butchered by a hollow croak.

"Yeah...Yeah, we're all okay - and don't worry about the shadow. Wild managed to take it down - thanks to you tiring it out, I'd say. You sure gave that thing a run for its money there," You attempt to joke lamely. Although your laugh doesn't carry much life to it, Twilight's expression does soften a tad after the sound.

"...Good..." Is all he says before closing his eyes with a sigh through his nose. Meanwhile you fidget nervously, debating with yourself on whether you should let the conversation die off so that he can continue getting rest or keep him talking while he's able to. You sure do love hearing his voice, after all, no matter how broken it may be; it reminds you that someone as great as him is actually real and, after recent events, still alive.

In the midst of your depressed thoughts, you notice Twilight reach his hand out towards you again - or at least it looks like he's trying to. Really, he only has the strength to lift it palm-up slightly off the covers, yet you understand this movement's wordless request. Ever so gently, as if he's made of glass, you take his hand and sandwich it between both of yours. He's a bit too cold for your liking, a sharp contrast to his normally warm touch, not that you draw attention to that worrying detail.

"...Is there anything I can get you?"

He tries to shake his head, but loses will halfway through the action and instead chooses to simply let his head lull to the side towards you. From there he stares for a bit longer than he means to, his dazed brain struggling to process his thoughts at its usual speed.

"Why aren't you sleeping?"

"Someone has to keep an eye on you," You allow a small smile, slowly reaching forward to help move his bangs away from his face, "We're all taking shifts throughout the night. I was just lucky enough to get the first."

Twilight hums, closing his eyes for a brief second when your fingers brush his forehead, "How'd you manage that?"

"Barely. For a second there, I thought I was gonna have to duel the Champion for it - had my hand on my sword and everything before he finally caved," Twilight makes a sound between a scoff and a laugh which makes your smile more genuine even if he does flinch in pain immediately afterwards, "The real question is how I won against Time...Actually, I wouldn't be that surprised if he's secretly standing outside the door as we speak."

A creak of old floorboards in the hallway makes your eyes dart to the door, almost expecting the man in question to walk in and call you out for your jokes, yet you calm that doesn't happen. Twilight brings your attention back to him by moving his thumb against your hand, "Don't tell 'em, but I'm glad it's you here. I like having ya' here with me..."

You press your lips, hoping it'll help you ignore the heat against your cheeks. That must be the first time Twilight has ever openly said he 'likes' anything related to you; you're certain you'd remember any other instances of such a milestone. It might not be the exact sentence you'd want him to use the word in, but it's a step in the right direction, so you'll take it.

"I like having you here with me, too, Twi...which is why I've officially decided that I'm too selfish to let you die on any of us. I don't care if I have to fist-fight Hylia for it; I'm not letting you get out of this journey so easily."

"That right?"

"I swear it on my life."

He chuckles weakly, although the sound is taken over by a fit of coughing. Promptly you pour a small glass of water using the pitcher kept on the bedside table before gently helping him sit up to take a careful sip.

It's insane for you to think that only a few weeks ago, you had been secretly watching him move hay bales at Time's place effortlessly. Now he lies here in bed struggling to hold a conversation, his muscles shaking horribly by the simply action of prompting himself up even slightly. Seeing him like this makes you feel awful, but you also consider yourself blessed to be the one taking care of him during a low point like this, ensuring that he's properly cared for and tended to almost like a spouse would.

"Seems like I'm starting to lose you, farm boy. You should relax and get some more sleep," He makes a face and seems prepared to argue, however he must not have been able to think of anything convincing to say - that or the aching in his bones has become too hard to ignore. Either way, instead of saying a word, Twilight nods droopily before inching his way back down against his soft pillow while you fix the blankets over him again.

"Look on the bright side: make it through this and you'll probably get special treatment from here on out. Get your bags carried for you, have whatever meals you're craving be made each night...If you hobble around a little I'm sure you could even get Time to fuss over you -"

" - And what about you?" Twilight quizzes and you can't tell if he's being serious or just teasing. It feels like the latter, yet the way he watches you while awaiting your reply makes you feel another way; soft and warm, but a tad anxious at the same time, "What can I get from you?"

You pretend to think, although in truth, you already know there wouldn't be any limitations for what you're willing to give. If he asked for the world right now, you'd figure out some way to gift wrap it for him...but that's too embarrassing to admit aloud, "...Depends on what you're thinking and if you can swing it the right way."

He hums, once again staring at you just long enough to make that anxious feeling really prominent. Is there something on your face that no one told you about earlier? Is he judging your messy hairdo that you had no time to fix since the battle? Did you sound too flirtatious in your answer? Maybe his injury has given him the ability to read minds, so now he knows just how desperate you are to earn his affections!

"...If I asked you to stay with me, would you?" Twilight whispers so quietly that you barely hear, yet you do. 

"I, uh...Time will be here in an hour or so for his shift, but I won't go anywhere until then, okay?" Not even your poor excuse at smiling can save your stumbled words, yet you pray he doesn't look beyond either. He's loopy from such a stressful day, so it makes sense that he's have trouble properly wording questions. It also makes sense for him to be scared to be left alone - anyone would be in such a state. He doesn't have to worry, though; between you and the boys, someone will always be by his side throughout the night. You'd expect that knowledge to be a relief for him, however Twilight only frowns and looks away with a surprisingly depressed look in his eyes. 

Fiddling nervously with your hands upon your lap, you ask carefully, "...Unless you're wanting me to watch over your for the whole night? In that case, I wouldn't mind staying if it would make you feel better. I'm sure the others would be fine with it if they could just check in here and there."

Twilight presses his lips, refusing to look directly at you. If you didn't know any better, you'd say that based on his continued reaction, you're still somehow missing the point of his question, yet no matter how much you rack your brain, you can't think of what else he would've possibly meant.

You were tempted to ask for more clarity, but Twilight speaks before you can, "...I'd like that."

"Yeah?"

He nods bashfully which melts your heart in a way you're sure would be shamefully clear if he were only looking in your direction.

"...Well, since you took one for the team -" Scooting your chair closer to the bed allows you to cross your arms over the mattress and rest your head on top of them. Desperately you try to ignore your nerves and the cute way Twilight curiously looks over at you, "- I'll stay for the night if you promise me one thing."

"Hmm?"

"Stay with me, too? Without you, I might just loose my mind. Don't tell anyone else, but you don't drive me nearly as insane as some of the other boys do," not in the same way at least.

The corner of Twilight's lips turn upwards, his hand taking it's time to move over yours. The second it makes contact, you take the chance to hold onto it, "...Sounds like a deal..."

You match his smile easily, "Get some sleep, Twi. I'll be right here when you wake up, so just focus on getting better for me, alright?"

He hums one last time, drifting off to sleep as commanded where he seems to be far more peaceful than earlier. As promised, you remain by his side until morning, eventually falling victim to quick naps yourself only disrupted whenever someone else sneaks into the room to see how things are going. You're certain you'll be tired tomorrow with an aching back after spending an entire night hunched over, but that's a small price to pay for someone like Twilight. It'll all be worth it to see him recover, granting you even more time to spend by his side through thick and thin.

[thelaundrybitch]

Koala'd

For some strange reason, some of my good friends are unable to view the original post, so I will repost it here.

Original Ask sent by AnOnYmOuS:

*kicks the door down to your inbox and waddles in*

Mrs. LANDRY! I'm back! (I heard you was lonely so I decided to come bug you LiKe I dO) and I have a small inquiry for you if you're up for disclosure!

How do you think the Bayverse turtles would respond to someone giving them a full-body hug? Like you know, arms and legs? The whole koala shibang.

Just curious on your opinion cuz I'm not too familiar with these turtles as I am with others.

AnYhOo, also I know I said I was working on something for you and I promise that is still the case, its just suddenly changed directions and I'm still trying to figure out where its headed 😅

Just wanted to drop in and give you some love and remind you that you're ✨fabulous✨ darling 🧡👊🏼

~AnOnYmOuS

Well, Anon, It's been a hot minute since you sent this. I was planning on doing some hcs or really short scenarios for all the guys.

HOWEVER. Michelangelo Menace Hamato refused to let anyone else play Koala'd. Perhaps someday I'll get to the rest

And while you were the amazing one who sent this ask in, my dearest Anon, I am going to dedicate it to the lovely @milykins 🧡

18+ I deem this partially spicy-ish.🌶️

Make what you will of that.

So, without further ado, I give you, some quality Tactical Mike...

Koala'd

He was out again. On mission. And as the leader of the tactical team, he almost always ended up in the most dangerous and scariest position.

For years, even as his bestie, he had forbidden you to watch the body cams at Don’s security desk- even if Splinter was right there. 

But ever since six months ago, when you'd finally found the courage to tell the elderly rat of your long-time feelings for the tactical leader, he had allowed you to sit with him and watch.

Although he made you SWEAR not to breathe a word of it to Michelangelo.

So here you sat, side by side with Splinter, chewing on your fingernails, gasping every few moments with your eyes wide and glued to his body cam. 

You watched as his weapon was knocked from his hand, and he was knocked to the ground. 

You listened as he screamed in pain. Your hand jutting out and grabbing onto Splinter's arm.

You heard the unmistakable sound of a cracking shell.

“OH GOD NO!” You yelled, tears streaming down your cheeks.

“Hey! What's going on?!”

You gasped, releasing Splinter's arm to spin towards the familiar voice coming from behind you.

“MIKE?!” Your voice trembled as you glanced over his clean, tactical gear, not a scratch on him.

You took off at a run, his arms open with a look of concern laced into his expression.

Leaping into his welcoming embrace, your arms moved around his neck in a tight squeeze, and your thighs squeezed his hips.

“Sunflower, what's wrong? What's going on?” He asked, one hand on a thigh to keep you in place, the other holding you tight against him.

“Mike, it's so dangerous. Oh my God, why do you do this?” You fretted, squeezing him harder. 

He let out a hard sigh. “Because if I didn't, then innocent beings would get hurt or die,” he said softly, his thumb rubbing small lines up and down your spine between your shoulder blades.

“Who cares! What about you? You need to stay safe, too! You don't need to go into situations that are so incredibly dangerous!” You scolded him excitedly.

Mike laughed softly, “Are you referring to the footage you were just watching?” 

You pulled back and looked at him, nodding.

“If I hadn't gone into that incredibly dangerous situation, I wouldn't have you here now, stuck to me like a baby koala.” His voice was soft and kind as his eyes roamed your face.

“What?” You whispered, looking confusedly from him to Splinter, who was smirking slyly, and back to him again.

“That’s the night I saved you in that warehouse from the wolves.”

Your face sobered, eyes going wide with realization. 

“We take the bad with the good, Sunflower. And despite being cracked open like a nut, that was the best night of my life. Because I found you.”

Your hands moved to his face, and you crashed your lips into his. Between fervid kisses, you managed a soft, “I love you, Michelangelo.”

“I've loved you for a long time, my Sunflower.” The long, passionate kisses he indulged spoke volumes more than his words had.

“Ahem.” The old rat’s feigned throat clearing brought the pair of you back to the moment.

Huffing out a small, embarrassed giggle, you shifted and attempted to slide back onto your feet.

Attempted.

When Michelangelo held you tight in place, you looked up at him, brows furrowed.

“If you think I'm letting you slip out of my arms just because my sneaky father over there is clearing his throat, you have another thing coming,” voice firm, gaze deadly serious.

“Wha-”

He didn't let you finish your thought. Instead, you heard a click followed by some sort of restraint coming between your thighs and up across your back. Snapping the restraint up over your shoulder and clipping it to his, he does the same with the other side.

“I'm not letting you escape now that I've finally got you where I want you - especially now!” exaggerating his exasperation with a comical eye-bulging expression.

“You want me glued to you like a baby Koala?” You laughed at his intentional idiocy. 

A face-splitting smile was accompanied by frantic nodding, making you laugh harder.

“And what the hell do you mean, ‘especially now’?!” You questioned him, your curiosity getting the better of you.

He did an about-face, walking towards the door with you now strapped to him. A naughty grin crossed his face as he pressed your core against him. Lips to your ear, he whispered, “Because you're concealing a deadly weapon.”

Please don't steal my work. Reblogging for others to enjoy is highly encouraged, though🤩

@avery73

[fairies-ask-legend-answers]

How this works:

You get to choose one of 52 colours to set as your fairy representative's colour. Their wings and antenna will be coloured with these exact colours whenever I get an ask from you.

When making your first ask, go ahead and choose your colour by selecting the letter and number on the chart below. You only have to tell me what colour you want the first time. After that, it's up to me to keep track of it for you :D (You can change your colour whenever you like)

Though, it only works this way if you present your ask NOT anonymously.

Don't fret, you still can make anonymous asks. But you have to present me with your colour of choice EVERY time for obvious reasons.

It would be cool if everyone had different colours but I wouldn't want someone to get disappointed if the colour they wanted was already taken, so I decided to let people choose whatever they wanted, even if it matches another persons fairy, avatar... thing- creature- or whatever you want to call it.

Here is the colour chart I created ⬇️

It's mainly lighter shades since fairies typically glow and darker colours don't really... you know, glow that well. If I need to update the chart (letters and numbers are too small or something) then let me know.

[sanguinarysanguinity]

🪄what is your post-writing/sharing aftercare? How do you take care of yourself or celebrate yourself when you've finished a fic?

🧿what steps do you take to not take things personally if a fic doesn't do well, or if your writing/posting/sharing experience isn't going how you'd like it to?

💌share something with us about an up-and-coming work (WIP) that has you excited!

Thank you for the questions!

🪄what is your post-writing/sharing aftercare? How do you take care of yourself or celebrate yourself when you've finished a fic?

1) Post to Write Every Day that I published a thing! Then the host (and sometimes others) do a celebratory dance with me, yay!

2) Ditto the friends who held my hand while I was writing and/or workshopping all the necessary meta-info. They all congratulate me, yay!

3) Tell my wife I published the thing. She congratulates me, yay!

4) Remind myself that the rest of the fandom is asleep or at work (or has never heard of me, or straight-up doesn't exist), and go find something else to do, preferably not online: Go for a walk. Read a book. Hang out with my wife. Art. Piano. Cook. TV. Sleep. Anything that qualifies as "moving on with my life", "having other interests", "being a well-rounded individual", "getting happiness from more than one place," etc.

5) If, at some point, I find myself fretting over whether people like my story (almost inevitable!), or if I'm still waiting for my regular commenters to show up, I pull out a different WIP and work on that. After all, the main reason I write stories is because I really enjoy writing stories. Sure, I also really like getting comments! But I have no control over those: they come when they come, if they come at all. But I do have control over whether I'm writing a story or not! And I really enjoy writing stories.

🧿what steps do you take to not take things personally if a fic doesn't do well, or if your writing/posting/sharing experience isn't going how you'd like it to?

So, the thing about my main fandoms being a half-dozen people each, is that I no longer have a decent frame of reference for how many comments a work "ought" to get. There's two-to-three people who I can count on to comment on every story (blessings on your houses!) and after that, every comment is a bolt out of the blue. Unlooked for. Gravy. I had no idea you were even IN this fandom, welcome, are you just passing through? So generally speaking, it's pretty hard for a story to underperform my expectations anymore.

Where I do get into trouble, though, is when I write for an exchange, and then the recipient does not comment. (It's a customized work! To your letter and tastes, as much as I could divine them! Even if I missed the mark, I would still like my good faith effort acknowledged. Were you never taught to write a thank you note?) When that happens, I go to my fandom confidantes and dramatically catastrophize about how OBVIOUSLY my recipient HATES my story. For the first few days, my confidante usually pats me on the head, tells me I'm being a silly, and helps distract me with something fun. But should we get to the end of the anon period and my recip still hasn't commented, usually my confidante gets protectively judgey on my behalf, especially if it proves the recip has a history of this kind of thing. Which doesn't cut the disappointment, but does help me externalize it.

💌share something with us about an up-and-coming work (WIP) that has you excited!

The one I'm REALLY excited about right now I can't share, because it's for an anonymous exchange.

But that said, I am really really wanting to get Langstroth on Bees out into the world. (Eleven years and counting!) I want you all to read it so bad! Here's a scene from the chapter I'm rewriting:

I heard a few quick steps inside. The door opened.

He was in disguise. I had not expected that, although the false name should have tipped me off. A black goatee disfigured his chin. His hair, too, was altered, waving loose over his forehead instead of pomaded back. But, oh, his eyes! His eyes, quick and intent, were just the same.

"Come in," he urged, motioning me past. He put his head into the corridor, quickly glancing right and left. Then he shut the door and put his back to it.

We stood there, with the space of two years between us.

He had lost weight; I was grieved to see that. The last two years had worked him hard: there was a gauntness to his cheek that had not been there before. He had aged, as well; it rent my heart to see the evidence of the time we had been apart, there in the lines around his eyes, the creases framing his mouth, the softness of his jaw. But he was still beautiful. Even with that regrettable goatee, he was still beautiful.

His eyes ran over me in turn, no doubt plucking the history of my own last two years from me. Undoubtedly he would know the details of today's drive: the haste with which I had locked the cottage behind me and the names of the towns where I had stopped for petrol. What birds I had seen, what people I had spoken to. I wanted to laugh with the giddy, ridiculous absurdity of it.

"Sherlock," I said, having no other words for the fullness of feeling in me -- the wonder of it, and the strangeness, too. He was too dear and familiar to ever be a stranger to me. And yet stranger he had become. But not for long -- no, no, not for long. But as I stepped forward, he stopped me with a raised hand.

[mleprae]

A nice anonymous person wants to thank you for all the information you upload on leprosy. My Baldwin and Sarmenti fanfics will be better now. I was also curious, in one post you said that leprosy increases libido, or did I misunderstand?? (English is not my mother tongue) Of course… this is necessary for a fic!

Anon you have to link it to me when it's done PLEASE OTL

And do not fret, you haven't misread at all! Leprosy can cause both heightened and decreased libido in interesting ways. In a lot of cultures, lepers were seem as lustful monsters for that reason and thus were forbidden to do a lot of things including entering a house if a woman lived there (wed or not). I mentioned this awhile back but 'The leper in the master bedroom' (fire name for a smut darkest dungeon fic btw) is a good analysis about it

The more biological explanation (simplifying) is that leprosy can physically block the production of testosterone, the body notices this, and starts overproducing to make up for the low amount. When leprosy retracts, all that testosterone that was building up gets taken at once, causing these extremely high peaks of aggressive and hypersexual behavior, I can't tell you how long they last but it looks that it's very short lived

As for Baldwin, I don't personally thinks he suffers from this, it would imply he has a low T level and considering his build, I don't think he would be able to maintain all that muscle mass... but it's a fun setting! That his indifference to sex is more of a biological root than self-restraint, can be both too, like that self-restraint slowly waining when he gets one of these hormone peaks

[unleashed-fest]

WE'RE BACK!

Hello, you beautiful animals!

We're back for another year of your wonderful furry, toothy, and/or scaly creations! Get your claws ready, send in your prompts, and sign up - we promise we don't bite!

Click bellow to see what this fest is all about and watch this space for the upcoming rules and guidelines!

🐾🐾🐾

Unleashed! is a Drarry + rare pair fest celebrating all pets, animals, and magical beasts!

This is an anonymous fest that welcomes works in which (an) animal(s) must play a significant role.

Animal lover fan creations hold a very special place in our hearts. We want to see Harry raising baby hippogriffs or Draco fretting over his precious peacocks. Give us Teddy teaming up with Charlie to take care of dragons or Ginny and Pansy trying to teach a giraffe how to ballroom dance for some reason. There are so many wonderful concepts and we want to see everything but the kitten sink! Come to think of it, now we want that too!

We will be accepting all Drarry and rare pair* fan creations: fic, art, podfic, and craft.

🐾🐾🐾

Your mods @getawayfox and @stavromulabetaaa

*For the purpose of this fest, a rare pair is defined as any pair, triad or poly relationship, except the first ten on this list. (Yes, drarry is in the first ten but it is an exeption.)

[melocherie]

i used to be in the iaptbap discord server at its prime and i just gotta say things were NOT pretty 😭😭 back then i was a minor and didnt interact that much but,, some things that were said always came off wrong to me. as mentioned there was def a lot of explicit jokes and even an nsfw channel?? (it was locked for 18+ but still weird when you know minors are in the server) especially since it would somehow leak back to public chats and minor me was exposed to that. i remember there being this one competition or something where noor would write a comm for whoever put on the best ted talk analysis of her story like 💀💀. and she would favor people who were desi which i kinda get yk sharing cultures and stuff but it was to a point where they would get special privilieges. it was all a blur but the biggest thing i remember was a huge fight between a fan and noor. i unfortunately do not remember what it was about as it happened overnight and messages were in fact deleted. both parties did do wrong but lavenoor ended up leaving her OWN server as a result, leaving ownership to one of her most "trusted" or "loyal" fans. no, she didnt really say sorry directly in any way, it is so similar to the post that she made addressing her allegations. i thought it was super weird for noor to leave her own server and not take accountability or control (shocker). sorry for dummping this on your blog!! i just wanted to personally share my experience with lavenoor as i was in the discord server when it was most active and noor was interacting with fans. there were other quotev authors in the server too, but they don't wish to be involved in this situation so i wont state their names

oh  no  no  you’re  fine!  don’t  fret  about  the  length  ——  ultimately,  i  want  more  people  to  talk  about  noor  and  the  things  she’s  done,  and  if  it’s  more  comfortable  for  others  to  share  it  anonymously  through  me  then  so  be  it.  but  goodness  gracious  this  is  a  whole  lot  of  unpack!

in  my  opinion,  having  an  nsfw  channel  in  an  all-ages  server  isn’t  strange  since  most  nsfw  sections  only  exchange  vaguely  raunchy  messages,  artwork,  memes,  and  the  like  rather  than  straight-up  porn.  especially  given  there  is  mature  content  in  iaptbap  (which  ought  to  have  been  better  tagged),  i  think  the  inclusion  is  totally  fine  under  the  assumption  the  moderators  took  the  necessary  precautions  to  keep  the  channel  away  from  children  (creating  an  nsfw  role,  locking  it  to  18+,  etc.). 

however,  naturally,  that  shouldn't  ever  seep  into  the  general  chat.  there  is  a  reason  it’s  separate.  i  expect  from  someone  who  regularly  talks  about  how  early  exposure  to  adult  material  harmed  them  to  protect  minors  in  a  space  they’ve  created.  but  it  is  however,  par  for  the  course  from  a  child  groomer.  shame  on  them.

(also,  the  iaptbap  discord  server  has  locked  all  invites  for  the  time  being.  charitably,  the  mods  might  be  stressed  about  the  situation  but  given  they  haven’t  made  a  proper  statement  addressing  noor’s  disappearance?  can’t  say  i  don’t  find  it  weird.) 

second,  it  baffles  me  how  easily  noor  asks  people  to  write  analyses  of  her  own  work.  i  myself put  a  lot  of  care  into  my characters,  their  story,  and  symbolism,  but  to  ask  my  followers  to  put  in  the  work  deconstructing  it?  multiple  times  even,  given  you  have  to  write  a  brief  sentence  analyzing  your  favorite  character  to  gain  a  marriage  role? it’s ridiculous.

i  don’t  know  noor.  i  don’t  know  what’s  in  her  heart.  but  with  the eyes  and  brain  within  my  skull,  i  can  see  ego  and  a  lack  of  faith  in  her  audience.  consistently,  i  see  her  endlessly  praise  the  work  she  does  while  complaining  her  fans  don’t  appreciate  the  effort  enough.  how  dare  you  dumb  down  beau  into  being  a  furry  whilst  i,  the  author,  do  the  same! 

if  not  to  boost  your  self-esteem  and  identify  followers  who  "genuinely"  care  about  your  work,  why  urge  your  audience  to  carefully  pour  over  your  writing?  yes,  art  invites  you  to  engage  with  it,  but  in  a  silent  way.  deconstructing  a  work  is  my  way  of  giving  the  author  something  in  return  for  the  brilliant  piece  they  have  shared  with  me.  it  is  audacious  and  cheap  to  ask  me  directly  for  that  present. 

i  apologize  if  i  come  out  as  huffy  and  conceited,  but  this  garbage  really  irritates  me  as  a  fellow  writer.  treat  your  audience  better,  asshole. 

i  can’t  speak  on  the  remaining  ask  because  this  leads  into  unqualified  territory  for  me.  i  don’t  feel  comfortable  definitively  saying  noor  is  racist  but  there  things  she  says  which  quirk  my  brow  (like  saying  winter  white  has  “curry  fever.”)  i’m  vaguely  aware  of  the  server  drama  through  her  second-hand  account  of  it  but  it’s  not  really  something  i  can  speak  on  since  this  is  the  only  surviving  evidence  of  it.   

again,  i  know  first-hand  of  her  ego  and  such,  but  it  genuinely  shocks  me  it  took  until  she  was  outed  for  grooming  for  people  to  notice  how  strange  she  is. 

[crowttore]

Segment Membrum Virile Attachment Catalogue

Notes: If you know me, you'll know that making something like this is nothing out of the ordinary. If you don't know me, sorry. Massive thank you to all my lovely followers and anons who helped come up with cursed ideas, love you all <3

Tags: Il Dottore's segments, crack treated very seriously, really bad ideas for dicks

'Membrum virile' -> penis

Unless otherwise stated, please circle only one (1) item in each set of square brackets. Violation of this rule will lead to a complete disregard for the segment's wishes and a set of randomised parts will be delivered instead. Good behaviour and satisfactory work performance can be rewarded with additional parts.

Well met [Zandik/Dottore/Il Dottore/Doctor/Insert Segment Code]! Perhaps you remember a past, but find yourself unsure of how much belongs to you. Fret not, all will be explained in due time.

For now, there are some practicalities to settle. You are a 'Segment', a physical manifestation of the pinnacle of Il Dottore's knowledge and dedication. The body your consciousnes inhabits is largely bionic in nature with a primordial component. An in depth explanation is assumed superfluous as you should have access to the memories containing this information.

Some parts of your body have, for practical reasons, not yet been attached. The objective of this pamphlet is to allow each segment to make an informed choice of personal modifications.

Section 0

Each segment of model type 'Epsilon' and onward is equipped with one standardised reproductive organ of a preset size. The size is determined by the body type of the segment and is not negotiable. The phallos can be adjusted to lean either right or left depending on preference.

All attachments have been grouped into categories with related utilities, please select one (1) from each by circling it. If none are selected, a random attachment will be selected for you.

If you chose 'Zandik' at the beginning, please skip to section 6. If you chose 'Insert Segment code', stop dawdling and get back to work.

Section 1

[Laser ruler / carpenters ruler / screwdriver* / drill / spirit level / flashlight / laser pointer / plunger / paint brush** / lever] *Bits can be changed **Large brush

Section 2

[Bottle brush / electric mini-fan* / laser thermometer / grater / hand blender / portion scoop / faucet / bottle / straw / rolling pin] *Not recommended if synthetic hair has been added to the body

Section 3

[Travel mug / comb / hand* / feather duster / hairspray / toothbrush / vacuum cleaner** / 50mL test tube / scratching post / deodorant stick] *Specify either right or left **Can double as leaf blower

Section 4

[Flute / calligraphy pen / paint brush* / blowpipe / scalpel / palette knife / foam tube / music bow / spool of thread *Small, round brush

Section 5

[syringe / gun / knife / whip / scissors / mace / nailgun / flamethrower / baton / herring*] *Must be used to cut down the mightiest tree in the forest

Section 6

[Tied together napkins / confetti popper / worm on a string / sticky hand toy* / groan tube / jack-in-the-box / bubble wand / toy shark / pool noodle** / rainbow slinky] *Must sign agreement to never use on other segments **Only available in blue

"One Il Dottore can fit so many dicks in him!" ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ from a beloved anonymous source

I do also write actual fics

[disciplesofthelamb]

"Greetings, fellow loyal cultists, as many of you already know, our great leader, The Lamb, is very busy, so busy that they often do not have time to interact with all of us. But do not fret, I, Silas, as their loyal disciple, have been left in charge-"

"Correction, WE were left in charge."

"Have some manners Briar, I was speaking."

"No, because you always do this! Why do you act like you're better than us?!"

"AHEM, anyway... Like our dear friend Silas was saying, we were left in charge in the case of our leader being unavailable, so we will be happy to answer any queries you may have!"

"Thank you all for your attention, have a blessed day. Praise be The Lamb!"

Art I was gifted (Thank you!)

Silas and Dotty by @bididoodles: here.

Briar, Dotty and Silas by anonymous artist: here

WARNINGS

⸸ This blog may depict sensitive topics that may be triggering to some, and although I do try to put content warnings when needed, I often forget.

⸸ This blog is a work in progress, things are subject to change.

⸸ NO NSFW, suggestive asks are fine.

⸸ English is not my first language, please forgive any mistakes. 💔

⸸ Not all asks are answered.

⸸ Specify which character your ask is meant for, otherwise I will choose at random.

[About the characters under the cut!]

ABOUT THE CHARACTERS

[Silas, Briar and Dotty are my own cult of the lamb ocs! Here are a few things about them:

☾ Briar (She/Her) : A rescue from Anura, she was found by the lamb along with Dotty in the ruins of their old village.

Briar is diligent and good at keeping things in order, but she struggles with properly communicating and sympathizing with others, so she can often come off as blunt and insensitive. Due to this, she has learned to mostly keep her thoughts to herself. Despite that, having a strong sense of justice and not a lot of patience means that she often gets into arguments with other cultists (But she's working on it!!)

She enjoys working in the lumberyards and building

Likes: Painting, Anything pumpkin-flavored, Rain, Napping, Woodcarving, Watching the sunrise, Stuffed animals, Jewelry, Carpentry, Dotty.

Misc info: Tries to avoid conflict (fails). Prefers to stay indoors. She just wants some peace and quiet frfr. Has a terrible case of RBF. Perfectionist?? kinda. She doesn't actually HATE hate Silas, she's just overly critical of him 'cause she finds his arrogance annoying. She loves anything frilly and lacey and delicate.

Voice claim: Lady Redundant Woman/Beatrice from Wordgirl

Follower traits: Zealous, Ascetic, Hot Tempered

Pinterest board:

✭ Dotty (Any pronouns) : A rescue from Anura, she was found by the lamb along with Briar in the ruins of their old village.

Dotty is cheerful, energetic and optimistic (Or, at least she tries to be). She can be a bit of a pushover, since her worst fear is making someone mad at her. She always tries to see the best in people, which can sometimes make her seem gullible as she has a hard time believing people may have ill intentions. Dotty also has a tendency to ramble, and talk a lot about nothing.

She does a little bit of everything around the cult, but farming is where she's most comfortable.

Likes: Walks in the forest, Bugs, Berries, Arts and crafts, Foraging, Sewing, Strawberry jam, Diced apples, Stuffed animals, Briar, Puzzles.

Misc info: She has like a billion hobbies and she loves all of them. Very fidgety for seemingly no reason. Collects rocks. She will make you a friendship bracelet a day after meeting you. Addresses people by pet names when she can't remember their name. Prolly ate a lot of dirt and sand as a child. Veryyy clumsy. Will cry over stepping on a bug :(

Voice claim: Raggedy Ann from Raggedy Ann & Andy: A Musical Adventure

Follower traits: Unrepentant, Strong Constitution

Pinterest board:

✦ Silas (He/him) : A rescue from Darkwood, he was found as he was about to be sacrificed in Leshy's name. After his rescue he swore to devote himself to the lamb for the rest of his days, yet he was the first to dissent when faith got too low.

When Silas first arrived at the cult, he seemed eager to do everything he could to appease his leader. He was always one of the first to pray at the shrine, to water the crops and to clean up the vomit of a sick follower. Nothing seemed to distract him from his faithfulness and devotion, however, as time went on that dedication seemed to dwindle. Perhaps he got far too comfortable with his title as a disciple.

Nowadays, Silas can often be uncooperative, especially when it comes to doing any kind of laborious task around the cult. You wouldn't want him to risk breaking a nail, would you? He can often come off as arrogant (because he is) if you aren't someone he's particularly interested in.

Silas does not like being rushed, he does everything in his own time, at his own pace. When he does decide to work, it's either cooking, praying, or refining materials. He was banned from working at the drinkhouse because he kept taking the drinks for himself. He also enjoys making patterns for clothing at the tailors.

Likes: Formal clothing, Journaling, Tea, Writing, Scented candles, Silver jewelry, Fountain pens, Red wine, Cigarettes, Sewing.

Misc info: Manwhore, terrified of commitment. Chronically jealous. Calls himself a "hopeless romantic" but he has never taken romance seriously. He'll tell you that he likes old literature but if you ask for recommendations he won't have any. Knows how to play chess, but he sucks at it. Cares a lot about his appearance. He loves compliments, compliment him, please! He's begging for it!

Had a younger brother named Mylo (which he asked the lamb to rescue not long after joining himself) they drifted apart soon after he became a disciple.

Voice claim: Bwoomp :(

Follower traits: Lustful, Materialistic, Poet

Pinterest board:

⸸ Playlists for all three can be found here

⸸ Additional info: Briar is a snowshoe hare, Silas is a striped hyena, and Dotty is a raccoon.

Silas is the oldest of the group, he joined the cult before the other two and he was also the first to become a disciple.

Silas is 6'2 (187 cm), Dotty is 5'4 (162 cm) and Briar is 5'3 (160 cm). I have no idea if those measurements are accurate idk how feet work.

Briar and Dotty are dating, they have been since before The Lamb indoctrinated them.]

ROLEPLAY INFO

"Briar speaks like this."

"Dotty speaks like this."

"Silas speaks like this."

Actions look like this.

[Moderator speaks like this.]

Others

@askacultleader (My other blog!) and @no-less-than-a-lambgod As our glorious leader

@ask-theredcrown As our Lord, The One Who Waits

@ask-thegreencrown and @he-ofhavoc As Leshy

@askthe-yellowcrown As Heket

@ask-thebluecrown As Kallamar

@ask-thepurplecrown As Shamura

@ask-thepurplecrownbearer As The Goat

Mortals/Miscellaneous entities

@askthe-littlepoet Poeeeeet

@the-sleepydragon As Imora

@tomb-the-god As Tomb

@keni-the-moth As Keni & Candy

@askdennycotl As Denny

@the-followers-of-them As other cultists!

@helob-the-spider As Helob

@terrorofthetarots As Clauneck

@ask-kudaai-the-weaponsmith As Kudaai

@ask-thefox As The Fox

@follower-of-the-old-faith As Ratau

[Hello everyoneeeee it's me Zip again, I made another blog :3

This is purely to indulge myself because these guys have been infecting my brain for a while now.

If I forgot to add you in my pinned post or if you would like to be removed please tell me!!]

[bkdkficrecs]

Fic Finder 101

Hey y’all! I’ve gotten a lot of fic finding requests in my inbox over the past few months, (Yay!) so I'm excited to help y’all and discover/rec some great new fics in the process!

In order to make things a smidge easier on myself, I’m making this post to clarify a few things that are helpful to include when submitting a Fic Finder ask:

AO3 Only. I don't look for or read fic elsewhere (i.e. Wattpad, etc.) and am very, very familiar with their website, so I prefer to only rec fics that are posted to Archive of our Own. If you can't remember what platform you read a fic on, just know that there is a possibility that I may not be able to find it.

Details, details, details! If you can list specific dialogue, scenes, settings, plot points that stuck out to you these are all very helpful. For example, great details to include would be something like: "Oneshot Coffee Shop!AU where Pro Hero Katsuki falls in love with Quirkless Barista Izuku at first sight and asks Izuku to make him Deku's favorite drink every morning. He keeps coming back even though he hates the taste of coffee. There was a lot of fluff and pining and it had a happy ending where they moved in together. Bakugou finds out that Izuku knew he didn't like the drink the whole time and kept notes, making it a little different each day until he did."

Include your @. It is understandable that you may not want your username included in posts! However the reason I request this is so that I can message you if I am having issues finding your fic or have questions while searching for it. If you would still like your post to remain anonymous when posted, start your message with "anon please" or something along those lines and I will be sure not to include it.

Read Date. If you are able to give me a rough estimate of how long is has been since you read the fic, that is helpful for me to narrow down results.

I realize that not everyone will be able to provide everything on this list, so don't fret if your answers to most of these are "I don't know." I will still do my best to find that fic you've been looking for!