#they think its a weakness and in the end it kind of is. idk still havent gotten to the confrontation between her & durge

[bhalspawn]

hmmhmhm trying to decide how long roan wouldve known gortash bc i want to know if they knew about karlach

[heartlogan]

all coming back to me

✮— logan x f!reader (set in x-men days of future past)

✮— summary: logan didn’t realise you would be here in the past. all that follows.

✮— a/n: first time writing for logan / the xmen films, be gentle pls. also wrote this in like 20 mins at 1am so kindness pls. ok goodnight.

✮— warnings: character death, major character death, (mentioned mostly, not the most graphic depictions), logan’s relentless guilt, reader’s insensitive curiosity, muddled timeline maybe idk, mutant reader (unmentioned power) , kind of abrupt ending , lmk if there’s more!

MASTERLIST

✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶

When Logan had realised he was the only viable candidate to do this job, he had felt the immense weight on his shoulders, had known that he had no choice but to succeed. He had been prepared for that part, mostly. But even still, the plan was sudden, and he hadn’t thought most things through. After all, Logan was more of a fight now, think later type of guy.

So waking up in some random woman’s waterbed was unexpected, yes, but even more unexpected was the bone cutting through his skin when he had to face those goons. It had been so long since the adamantium had been melded to his skeleton, that he could almost forget it hadn’t always been that way. If it weren’t for the pain that still haunted his every nightmare, that was.

It was an adjustment, definitely, especially because it had been so long since he hadn’t felt completely indestructible — untouchable. There was no metal safety net, here.

Seeing Xavier’s school falling apart was certainly an adjustment, too.

He had known this school only in its prime, when Charles had already formed the X-Men, had already settled many kids into their new home. Logan couldn’t ever imagine this place being so devoid of life.

“Can I help you?” A young man asked, after a few silent moments of Logan waiting for the door to be answered. He sounded vaguely familiar.

“Uh… yeah, what happened to the school?” Logan asked, eyebrows raised as his eyes trailed over the vines crawling up the building, the dust coating the glass.

The man’s eyebrows furrowed, looking at Logan strangely before he decided to speak. “The school’s been shut for years. Are you a parent?”

Logan scoffed. “I sure as hell hope not. Who are you?”

“I’m Hank. Hank McCoy. I look after the house now.”

He’s doing a great job at that, Logan thought to himself, surveying the damaged grounds, before he clocked on to what the man had introduced himself as. He squinted at the small stature of the guy, half hidden by the door he was pressing himself into the gap of.

“You’re Beast? Look at you,” Logan commented idly, “Guess you’re a late bloomer.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Hank warned, features hardening instantly at the name he hadn’t heard for a long time. “But I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

The man started closing the door in Logan’s face, not expecting him to shove himself against it, keeping it open. They strained, muscles tensing on both sides, before Logan inevitably won without Hank’s extra strength that accompanied his transformation.

“Where’s the professor?”

“There’s no professor here.” Hank responded, before Logan soon managed to shove the door open, flinging him back.

“Professor!” Logan yelled into the empty house, hearing his voice rebound off of the walls. The echoing made him uncomfortable, and seeing the house that had been destroyed so long ago in his time was odd. It was familiar, and yet so different. Logan wasn’t sure he could ever get used to the empty manor, despite his many complaints about the kids at the school.

The moment Logan began to ascend the stairs of the manor, Hank leapt at him, freshly transformed. Logan was momentarily shocked by the appearance of his blue fur, but he quickly got over it, defending himself from Hank’s admittedly rather weak attack. The Beast managed to stun him, tackling him onto a table in the middle of the foyer, while the blue man hung from the chandelier above.

“Hank?” A voice called out, confused and slightly concerned. “What’s going on here?” He asked, descending the stairs and squinting down at the vaguely familiar man on top of his table.

“Professor?” Logan asked, surprised, sitting up on the table to make sure he was seeing things right.

“He doesn’t like to be called that.” A new voice said, coming from Logan’s left, and he startled, head whipping towards where you were standing. You were leant against the doorway, arms folded across your chest as you watched the situation unfold with unhidden entertainment.

His heart practically stops.

He hadn’t seen you for almost three years. Three very long, very difficult years.

Logan didn’t even want to think about the last time he had seen you. It had been one of the worst days of his life to date, and he’d had a lot of bad days. And yet, here you were, alive. Trying to tamp down your amusement, though it was written clearly on your face, evident in the slight curve of a smile that he had missed.

“You know this guy?” Hank asked Charles, who made his way down the rest of the stairs while Logan only continued to stare at you.

Charles looked at Logan with a vague sense of recognition. “Yeah, he looks slightly familiar.” He commented distantly, already appearing completely checked out of the situation. “Get off the bloody chandelier, Hank.”

The sound of the glass above him clinking together brought Logan to his senses, reminded him that he had a job to do. And no matter how much he had missed you, your presence couldn’t get in the way of that.

“You can walk.” Logan stated, checking back into the conversation with shock still darting down his spine. He watched the Professor carefully, brows furrowed in thought.

“And you’re perceptive.” Charles replied dryly, “Which makes it slightly perplexing that you missed our sign on the way in. This is private property, my friend. I’m going to have to ask him to ask you to leave.” He said, nodding towards Hank who stared between the two men as if watching some sort of tennis match. He looked uncomfortable with the confrontation occurring. “Or her, if you’re more inclined.”

You raised your brows.

✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶

Logan didn’t end up leaving, much to your surprise. It had been a long time since anyone had managed to get Charles to do anything he didn’t want to do. Hell, it had been a long time since anyone had managed to speak to the man, save for you and Hank. He turned everybody away, never heard anyone out, no matter how desperate they sounded.

Instead, Charles seemed to accept the fact that this man was from the future. A future which sounded dire, by the way.

And if his glance towards you when he had spoken about watching good people, friends, die, told you anything, it was that you didn’t make it very far in the future. Which didn’t faze you all too much. It didn’t sound like much of a future for those who lived, anyway. But that knowledge had taught you something about this Logan. He had cared for you, some years from now.

It was as clear as day. He looked at you like he had been missing you, like he was greeting you at the airport after a long trip. He seemed to think he was being discreet about it, always glancing away when you turned to him, but you were observant.

You sidled up next to him while Hank went on the hunt for the phone book, and Charles wandered off to regret his decision.

“So, how’d I die?” You asked, feeling bad but also slightly amused when Logan practically choked on air.

“What? How did you—”

“Oh, please. It’s all over your face. I may not know you, but I can see that much.” You responded, cutting him off and watching the cogs turn in his head.

You had always had a strange way of reading him better than anyone else. Not that this version of you knew that, but Logan did. It made his chest ache all the more, feeling like you were so close to being in his grasp, and yet so far away from him. He had to remind himself that you didn’t know him, and he didn’t exactly know this version of you.

You seemed… not happier, exactly, but something was different. Perhaps you had suffered less at this point in your life. He had met you in one of the most difficult times you had ever been through, and it was strange to see you without the baggage that had followed you from that.

“I’m that transparent, huh?” He replied, going quiet soon after. He didn’t want to talk about this with you. With anyone. He didn’t want to relive that moment any more than he already did. He saw it every time he closed his eyes, every time the Sentinels had approached in the future.

“You are.” You paused. “So? What happened?”

“You don’t want to know about this, kid.” Logan stated, pointedly not looking at you. You were so young now, and he missed the lines on your face. This wasn’t the you that he knew or loved. He didn’t know this version of you. And you certainly didn’t know him.

Logan had the fate of the world resting on his shoulders, the fate of every mutant and human who had the decency to be kind towards them. Your fate. The fate of everyone else he had lost. He couldn’t get caught up in this, in seeing you here, as much as he wanted to soak in the sound of your voice, the colour of your eyes, the glow of your skin.

“Why not? We’re going to save the world anyway. It can’t hurt.” You said innocently, regretting the latter part of your statement the moment you realised how it came across, how Logan’s face creased.

He wanted to appreciate your optimism, mostly because he knew how much of it you had lost by the time you died, but you couldn’t understand. It did hurt. Logan had watched you die in front of his very eyes, his adamantium and courage powerless to stop it. He had been dragged back to the jet, forced to leave your body there to rot, or to be taken and experimented on. He didn’t know which was worse.

Even now, he could feel the pressure on his chest from Storm pushing against him, the pain of Magneto pulling at his skeleton, forcing him to leave you behind.

He swallowed the lump that had risen in his throat, eyes flickered across the room, never quite landing on you. It hurt him every day. He could feel the weight of your loss even now, knowing that if he failed to do this, you were lost. This version of you, the one who had so much suffering to come, would die at the hands of a Sentinel, and he would be powerless to stop it.

“Sorry,” You said, when the silence stretched on, Logan seemingly getting lost in his own thoughts. You could see the pain written across his face, could see him getting distant, reliving whatever had happened in the future. “That was insensitive. I was curious, but it doesn’t matter. You’re here to save us all. And I’m here to help this time.”

He finally looked at you, and you could see the exhaustion on his face. Perhaps putting more pressure on him wasn’t the best idea.

“Okay, I’m messing this up,” You admittedly, fidgeting nervously now, eyes flickering between him and the door as if expecting Charles or Hank to walk in on you embarrassing yourself. “I’m sorry.”

“No, no,” Logan paused, apparently trying to find his words. “You don’t need t’be sorry. None of this is your fault.”

You looked at him, seeing him more clearly then. You didn’t know his past, and you certainly didn’t know the future, but this man cared about you. That much was obvious. “It’s not yours either, you know.” You said, and the slight grimace he made didn’t escape you. He clearly didn’t agree. “However we know each other in the future, it can’t change the fact that I am an adult. I would never expect you to take responsibility for me dying. Or want you to! I take care of myself.”

He blinked at you. “We were meant to take care of each other.”

You faltered slightly at that, struggling to imagine yourself relying on someone that much, but then you understood.

“Isn’t that what you’re doing now? You’re here, fifty years into the past, trying to make things right. The war wasn’t your fault, Logan.”

Despite knowing that was true, it still didn’t quite dislodge the guilt that pulsed in his chest. He felt more vulnerable here, without his adamantium. With your prying eyes. Even now, it appeared that you saw him in a way nobody else ever could.

“You know what? This might be totally inappropriate, but…” You trailed off, and he had just opened his mouth to question you when suddenly you were wrapping your arms around his neck, squeezing him close in a way that finally let him breathe again.

His hands hung idly by his sides for a few moments, before finally wrapping around you, holding you tight. He seemed as though he may never let you go, but you could understand that. Logan was in pain, and it seemed that despite your slight uncertainty, this had been a good path to go down. Taking care of one another, or something like that, right?

A heavy sigh left his chest, and you squeezed him tighter, letting out a short breath into his neck. You only pulled away when you heard Hank’s footsteps creaking on the aged floorboards, heading your way. Logan let you go, with much reluctance, but you lingered. Your arm brushed against his jacket.

If Hank noticed anything, he didn’t say a word, simply holding up the phone book victoriously. You glanced at Logan, watching the creases slowly come back to his face as he was reminded of his burden once more. You leaned against him the slightest bit, and pretended not to notice him glance at you.

This would all work out, you were certain of it. And if it didn’t, well, at the very least there was something to look forward to in that bleak future. Logan seemed worth the pain.

[kosmicdream]

Hello. After drawing webcomics for 10 years and making about 10,000 pages of comics, here are some things i have learned/observed in that experience..

1) making comics does not get easier.. Not really

Making comics is a tedious and slow process and with so many different facets of the experience to learn - you’ll never run out of stuff to learn or weaknesses to work on. I’m not saying this to discourage but to just give the frank reality that it really takes a lifetime to understand. Be patient with yourself and try to set healthy expectations. 

2) Read your own comics after making them.

I don’t know if this is as important to other people as it is to me, but I do think that sometimes its easy to not re-read your own work and just go from your own memory of it, or maybe you’re tired of looking at it because of all the flaws. I don’t personally get sucked into the “rewrite/remake” cycle that I know is common with comics, as I sort of just accept things as they are, but re-reading my work does help me see where I have come from and where I need to go to next. I personally don’t like to lose sight of that, and I think re-reading helps ground me in the planning process of my work and gives me a better perspective on all aspects.

3) A lot of comic advice should be taken with a grain of salt, because its the person talking to themselves. (including this)

I see a lot of advice that never would have worked for me, or just simply wasn’t something I was ever going to follow. “Dont start with your big epic long stories”! Is a common one. I don’t think that’s bad advice exactly, but how many young artists are going to listen, especially if they’ve never told a story in the first place? Yes, the advice to start small and build yourself up with experience sounds great, I’m sure people do it, but if you’re an artist you’re probably not gonna be that responsible. And for me, when i tried to do this with eggshells, my house burnt down and i kinda gave up comics for a while because i lost a lot of work. 

Writing short stories is still something I struggle with, its just not easy for me. I have gotten better at it but i don’t think that makes me less of a comic artist because I haven’t gotten good at that particular format, or that I jump around on my projects. Is it more impressive to have more completed work under your belt, sure. But I also think that.. Idk.. what is the advice actually saying, because with that one it sort of feels (often times) as a warning that you’re setting yourself up for failure/embarrassment by attempting a comic like that. I don’t know how to tell you this, but comics are gonna be embarrassing no matter what you do and there’s no guarantee you’ll be more successful/not experience failure by avoiding your passions. Something to think about anyway. 

4) Don’t draw every leaf. Unless you really want to.

I’m the kind of comic artist that kind of doesn’t care about the art as much as the whole package of the comic. When i see a very impressively drawn panel/page, with laborious detail that is well drawn and maybe even colored ect.. That usually is kind of, I guess, a turn off for me as part of the reading experience. The thing is, when i encounter that, it usually signals to me that someone has poor planning skills for comics. It says to me that comic is probably not going to see its end or that artist is overworking themselves in an unnecessary way, that ends up concerning me about how they’re doing. Because i know how hard it is to draw comics. When an artist phones things in a bit, or has a limit on how much they work on a page, its a relief for me to see! because I understand they have healthier boundaries and expectations, and the art itself usually is less stiff too. This is all an overgeneralization, but I think with a lot of webcomic artists we are usually drawing a comic for the first time ever, so it makes sense we want to do our best and try as hard as possible - that just usually isn’t the smartest plan to put all the stock in the visual department. This also kinda frustrates me to see because most comics (professional or not) will also (generally) not reel the art in ever or make a more simple style. Generally I see it always trying to outdo itself, which leads to burn out. I personally only work about 1hr on each page i draw, that hasn’t changed in the 10 years I have been drawing comics, but i used to spend hundreds of hours drawing detailed lineart for eggshells and it didn’t even read well and i’d be disappointed with the results, feeling more lost with my goals than ever. PLEASe.. Just draw worse, its usually better looking in the end too. (because you wont have the experience to judge visual clarity until you’ve been drawing comics for a while imo..)

5) Don’t draw ahead, draw those inbetweenies.

“Inbetweenies” are the pages for the “boring” ones. They are also usually the most common KIND of page. Its the pages that are necessary, but “inbetween” the action. The impact moments in a scene, ect. You gotta draw them. They’re always gonna be there. They’re the pages where maybe, the character is walking somewhere, thinking, ect. The after impact from an action.. There’s a million examples, but hopefully you’ll understand what I mean when I say they’re both necessary pages/panels, sometimes so mundane/redundant, but also required for telling the story.. As a comic is a sequence of images. This is why, the previous advice is also important IMO- because if you really want to “draw every leaf” - maybe you should save that energy and effort for those impact moments that you want to impress the reader with.. And not for the inbetweenies, which are the foundational support, but also not the most important moments. If you conserve your energy a bit, the contrast OF that effort will also pop more. I personally find it funny when I put more effort into a page and end up tricking my readers into thinking I got better at drawing, when really i just have been able to draw better and only save it for moments like this instead of always.

Also, when I say don’t draw ahead.. I mean I draw each page at a time before going to the next one. I have no idea if this is an unusual practice or not, and I know a lot of people will draw their chapters/episodes/whatever in sections like sketch/ink/color/ect.. But I personally draw and finish page by page, unless its the thumb/sketch stage. Even then, i don’t go ahead much. I think that you can control flow/pacing better by doing chapters all at once of course, I see that as a benefit. But i also think that makes things very overwhelming and can also result in a lack of flexibility if something isn’t working. No matter HOW much planning you do- comics are always going to have an aspect of IMPROVISATION with the result you get in the end. There are way too many factors in play to be in complete control of all of them and always know the result of the reading experience. SO for me, this technique is easier and has been something that continues to get me to working effectively. Plus, rumiko takahashi said that’s what she does. And i think she has some of the best visual flow/compositions in comics. So that’s what I do.

I could write more personal advice or rules that i follow..but I think those are the ones I find are the most important to me anyway. Of course, comics are a strange medium and not everything that works for me will work for you. That’s all for now.. Bye bye…! 

Oh by the way, my comics are here: feastforaking.com nastyreddogs.com https://kosmic.itch.io/ Support me on patreon! https://www.patreon.com/kosmic

[judasgot-it]

literally I’ve been checking your profile every day cause I really love your work :c hope you’re doing alright ^^

could i request headcanons of make out sessions with tecchou?

i haven't done headcannons in a while, also I got this ask almost a year ago but if you're still checking this account I am somehow still alive! The Tecchou brainrot is still going strong amen

Headcannons: How he kisses you + when its sloppy style (slight nsfw warning)

Tecchou's kisses are between the best thing either or a nuisance - he has impeccable timing though, that's for sure.

Kisses you while you have your hands full, or kisses you while you are absolutely disgusting - he doesn't care sometimes, he just wants a smooch

Once he kissed you while you were covered head to toe in dirt and grime from a mission. Full on open mouth kissed you despite how much you needed a shower. He really just doesn't care sometimes

Will always try to greet you with a small kiss on the cheek or a peck on the lips.

Please kiss him back it has him weak in the knees.

Pulling him in by his belt is one of his favorite things

Usually has a hand on you somewhere whenever he kisses you

It's casual, but he has a tendency to let it wander whenever he thinks you're both alone

Definitely is shoving it up your shirt or is grabbing your ass - if you're alone can you really blame him?

If there's a big height difference he's def guiding you around, cause dude does not want to end up with neck and back pain

Will straight up hold you in his arms so he doesn't have to bend over; if he's kissing you longer than 10 seconds, he's just holding you

Manhandles you a little bit. He's a gentleman but like dude is strong as hell, he probably does it without thinking

Has caused you a few minor bruises because of this. He is deeply apologetic each time

Somehow always loses his shirt(?)

Sticks between being conservative and sloppy with his kisses, really depends

When he's really in the mood, man has no problem trying to shove his tongue down your throat

He will make you taste what he had to eat that day, even if it means holding you down on his desk and making you lick it off of him

Every day it's something different, it's fun to guess at this point

I think he's the sloppy kind of guy, like afterward you'll feel like you were drooled on

Pray he didn't eat anything spicy cause he probably is leaving that taste everywhere...

Isn't the noisy type of guy, although I think he asks a lot of questions - he wants to know if you're okay and he can't really read your mind

Puts you two in some weird ass yoga positions - Tecchou is the nerd who's into couples yoga but like in an extreme way

Like you're making out in a hallway and bro is doing the splits for no goddamn reason

Bro will be the guy to do pushups on top of his partner willingly because he needs to get that workout in throughout his day

once you told him to say your name during them, and he didn't realize until push-up 21 why your face was so red

might have been the only time he stuttered in front of you

kisses between each pushup, does not break his streak, however - he needs to get his workout done so you're going to have to deal with it

Quality time (i guess?)

Either completely silent or says some corny shit like 'I love you' and compliments you. No in-between with him

Idk how good these are, sex is literally the funniest thing to me like i cannot take that shit seriously

[cherryxblossxms]

Hehe yes let's cuck Mephisto with Luci too ~

I think he's planning a prank (or maybe sabotage?) with the anti Lucifer league and he doesn't quite get out of Lucifer's office fast enough when he hears the two of you coming. He scrambles into a closet right when you and Lucifer come in, too busy making out to notice the closet door slightly ajar.

Mephisto is disgusted at first. He can't look away, it's so horrible. He watches as you strip each other, Lucifer puts you on his desk. Your incessant moaning and his groaning...

Mephisto didn't really notice how intently he was watching, nor did he notice how hard he was until his cock throbbed at the erotic display... He palms himself, feeling dirty at enjoying such a thing but he's mesmerized and stuck in this closet anyway.

I'm so sorry I'm getting to this so late 😭 I ran to the notification when I first got it but I just could not find the spoons to respond

Godddd this whole thing is so 🥵🥵 I could not stop myself from making this into. Idk whatever this is, but anyway I need that man badly (and maybe need to make him suffer a little lmaoo)

[Nsfw obv, mdni. GN reader, voyeurism, implied cucking/getting caught at the end ehehe~]

At first, Mephisto is so disgusted by what's he's seeing. The two people he detests most— the angel traitor saved by his gracious Lord Diavolo, and the weak unworthy human representative of the exchange program— and you're locking lips like its your job, knocking into Lucifer's desk in your excitement. And of course you two would be drawn together, it's only expected that two unsavory types would be getting up to such indecent activities together. The wet noises of your mouths meeting and the way you're groping each other, it's perverse, Mephisto thinks.

He has half a mind to report you two to Lord Diavolo, what you're doing has to be a problem, right? Just thinking about it is titillating, as he remains hidden in the closet, not wanting to get caught and maybe get some good dirt on either of you. Maybe he'll get some kind of reward for alerting the Young Lord about these transgressions. In fact, maybe he'll even—

His thoughts are interrupted when you unleash a soft whimper, the sound sending shivers through his body and his heart pumping. He didn't even realize, you two had gotten partially undressed already while he was lost in thought, shirts pulled open and halfway off and Lucifer's hand disappearing beneath your waistband, the demon sucking on the side of your neck as his hand clearly worked you into a frenzy.

Suddenly it's like he can't tear his eyes away from his peeping spot in the closet, almost holding his breath just waiting for what happens next. Watching as Lucifer marks you up to satisfaction, his hand working a steady rhythm between your legs as you writhe against him, still making that delicious needy noise, before its clearly not enough for either of you. Before Mephisto can react, Lucifer has you set on his desk, tugging your bottoms down and off and working his own open just long enough to free his leaking cock, losing no time as he quickly enters you.

If Mephisto thought your prior noises were indecent, the moan you let out now is downright sinful. The noise of a rattling desk fills the air as Lucifer pumps into you, and whether it's by a miracle or a curse, Mephisto can see it all clearly. See the way you manage to fit Lucifer's cock, see the way you grasp onto the desk or onto Lucifer, whatever you can reach, as your face is twisted with pleasure. He couldn't quite make out Lucifer's face from his angle, but that was perhaps for the better.

Mephisto suddenly becomes all too aware of how tight his pants have become, a distinct need in his groin calling to him. Just the thought of stroking himself to you two is offensive, he tries to convince himself. But it's like his body can't control itself, his hand reaching down to relieve the ache anyway, not long before he's fisting his own leaking cock in time with Lucifer's thrusts into you. He can't even manage to tear his eyes away, eating up every little change in your expression and the things you respond best to.

He bites his knuckles trying to stay quiet, still trying to stay hidden until he can safely escape. But he's quickly lost to his own desires, imagining it's you he's fucking into. He'd show you how much more superior he is to Lucifer, show you what a true born-and-bred demon can do in bed. Lucifer could never compare, and he'd finally have you on your knees, begging for more, if he so wanted.

Just the thought of being the one to bring you to completion is enough to push him over the edge, hard, the climax catching him off guard. It's a miracle he manages to catch his spend in the palm of his glove before it can get on anything else. But what he fails to do is suppress the groan he makes as he cums, and his lusty haze clears quick in the following panic, looking to see if he'd been found out.

Thankfully, you'd all seemed to finish at the same time— he can't help but regret he hadn't seen your face as it happened— and you were clearly still recovering atop Lucifer's desk, the demon himself still buried deep inside you and his hips finally still. Mephisto instantly relaxes, thankful he wouldn't have to explain himself. He wasn't sure what he'd do if Lucifer of all people found out that, not only had Mephisto broken into his room, but was watching and masturbating to you two having sex like some kind of freak.

However, in his eagerness to relax, Mephisto missed the way Lucifer's lips quirked up, crimson eyes sparing the briefest glance in the direction of his closet.

[hanlimz]

[midnight thoughts: sunghoon + heart eyes]

pairing: park sunghoon x gn!reader genre/warnings: fluff ! very cute very suitable 4 all audiences ! / not proofread, povs might be a bit confusing?? it's written in 2nd person/3rd person omniscient but also in hoon's pov kinda?? idk ,, i hope that's able to be understood lolol <///3, also LOVESICK HOON <////3 wc: 0.8k (i could've written more but i liked where this ended) a/n: this goes out to all my hoon stans (ESP my hoon biased moots bc ik there's a lot of u MWAH ILY PLS ENJOY this is my apology for never interacting) / i feel like this is a bit different from my normal writing style so i hope this little ramble-y mess suffices !! <3

park sunghoon is sharp; the slope of his nose is precise and pointed, his skin is even and supple while still resembling a cool block of ice, and the fiery soul of a phoenix reborn from its ashes is hidden away behind his frigid gaze. but, when he's with you—an uncharacteristic spell of heat courses through his veins; the blood under his cheeks seems to boil as they turn an embarrassing shade of vermillion, and the mystic bird is freed as you unlock the cage he has built around his heart. the way you hold him in your hands is gentle, the way you touch him is kind, and the way you kiss him makes him weak.

when he's with you, park sunghoon allows himself the chance to be soft. he melts like the chocolate sandwiched between two cozy graham crackers; his brain turns to mush, his thoughts are blurred at the edges, and his bones feel a bit too much like jello. sunghoon doesn't bother to uphold his "cool guy" reputation when you're around because he knows you prefer the real him—the one that stumbles over his words after seeing you in his clothes, the one that can't make it through watching the titanic without bawling, the one who still tries to cook for you despite almost cutting his thumb off with a mandoline slicer.

a fool, but yours nonetheless.

however, in spite of all this pure adoration sunghoon harbors for you, he still can't manage to will those eight, little letters from his plush lips. they feel too small as they sit and marinate in his mouth; he turns them over with his tongue, running the muscle along each syllable and tasting the overly saccharine residue they leave behind. they're not enough, he thinks, they never will be.

so, until he finds the right words, sunghoon settles for quiet moments like these. a wall of storms is rolling in from the coast; through the open window in the dorm's living room, the refreshing scent of impending rain spreads throughout the space. soft bouts of rumbling thunder become white noise that is almost enough to lull him to sleep, and the weight of your head in his lap evokes a certain peace that settles over every inch of his body. as sunghoon runs his fingers through your hair, he giggles to himself each time you snore on the inhale. there's a patch of drool seeping into the fabric of his joggers, but he can't bring himself to care; to sunghoon, you are perfect—in every sense of the word.

in the darkness, sunghoon's phone illuminates your napping figure; squinting, he sees that the boys have messaged the group chat, but truthfully, sunghoon is far more concerned that the vibrations might startle you out of your slumber. glancing down at you once more, he picks up the device to take a quick look at the messages.

[jake] twenty dollars that hoon's ogling y/n when we get back

[heeseung] do u even have to bet?

[jay] yeah i feel like it's kind of a given at this point

[sunoo] i just hope they're not on the couch .. i'm trying to cast the barbie movie to the tv ://

[jungwon] good luck......where Else would they be??

[niki] as long as they're not sucking face idc.....

[me] ok gross ... we r not Sucking Face u Child y/n's asleep on the couch, so don't be too loud when u get back

[jake] BOOOOO GET A ROOM !!!!!

[sunoo] UGHHH why can't u guys be a cute couple somewhere ELSE??

[heeseung] hoon's too in love ... Obviously

[me] stay jealous losers &lt;3

with a small flick of his thumb, sunghoon switches his phone to do not disturb and places it face down on the arm of the sofa. as he gazes down at you, his eyes are filled with an immeasurable amount of appreciation and fondness and gratitude. he finds solace in the sight of the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest; your deep breaths are a melodious sonata accompanied only by the sound of rain pattering against the living room window. sunghoon feels his heart pounding in his chest, and he thinks it's a bit silly just how much of an effect you manage to have on him. he sits with his thoughts, staring at the wall before him; sunghoon ponders heeseung's text, and comes to the conclusion that the elder boy is right.

sunghoon is in love—with you, to be specific.

however, he decides that he's the perfect amount of in love with you.

slowly, the calloused pads of sunghoon's fingers graze over the planes of your face, traveling down to the exposed skin of your shoulder. gently, he traces countless, miscellaneous shapes into your flesh, hoping you can feel each and every one of the triangles and diamonds and hearts in your dreams. tenderly, he tugs the blanket that had slipped down to the taper of your waist back up to your clasped hands. quietly, sunghoon prays to the gods and asks for the courage to voice his emotions, despite knowing that there is no rush—there never is. not with you.

and after a moment, softly, sunghoon tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear and murmurs, "i love you. more than you'll ever know, i love you."

[kairiscorner]

imagine playing with the miggy doll you made in the previous part in front of miguel, like

a/n: gets a little suggestive in the end...? idk, just don't flag this shit please 😭

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

"isn't he just a grumpy one today?" you asked the miggy doll you made in a voice that imitated a parent cooing to an upset toddler. you waved him around a little and made him stomp on your desk in an agitated manner. 'grr, i hate everything that is fun, nice, and wonderful in the world!' you made him say as you manipulated him to kick up your papers and topple over a few pens on the desk as you groaned a little at the doll's outburst which was pretty much you mockingly impersonating miguel.

"but miggyyyyy..." you whined to the doll as you made it face you abruptly and shake still. 'what!' you exclaimed in a gruff, poor imitation of the real miguel. you gave the miggy doll the sweetest doe eyes you could ever muster–the kind that you've never shown anyone, not even the real miguel–and you bat your eyelashes at the doll, which gazed lifelessly back into your own gleaming eyes. "i thought we agreed you'd put a stop to the grumpiness when i'm around... i thought a good miggy never lies." you reasoned with the inanimate doll, which you manipulated to put in a thinking position, since you went the extra mile and gave him 360 moving joints to make him more expressive.

'i told you, i get grumpy around pretty people! they're my weakness! they're just too freaking pretty for my tight ass to handle! hmph!' you made him exclaim and crossed his arms over his chest in a stiff way, for even fine 3d printed dolls with 360 movable joints still looked less human than real ones. thank goodness, though, they're not made of cellulite.

you huffed at the miggy doll and turned its head around with your finger, and the doll's head followed suit. "would you still be mad at a pretty person who's actually in love with you?" you teased at the very nonliving doll, which you integrated a 'flustered' feature on. at the push of a button, the doll would change its expression into one of bashfulness. 'what, uh, um... maybe not!' you made him say, which made you giggle, dreaming this was the real miguel–flustered in front of you as you teased him relentlessly.

as you continued playing with the doll, you suddenly noticed a large shadow looming over your figure. before you could even get his name out, he did it for you. "that doll again, that... miggy doll again, was it?" asked a fluid, authoritative voice that made you shudder. you turned in your computer seat slowly, facing his chest and abdomen that met your line of vision from where you sat, while his real face gazed down at you.

"hi miggy." you said with a wide, awkward smile as he looked at you in your petrified state, and at the miggy doll that was inexplicably embarrassed and flustered in the face. "so, what have you been up to with the little version of me, hmm?" he questioned you as he moved forward, then crouching down to meet your gaze, so you two were face to face.

you felt a little hotter when he got closer, and you avoided looking into his eyes at the moment, darting your eyes from one side of the room to the other. "oh, psh, nothing..." you lied, which didn't convince miguel in the slightest, but he decided to indulge you in your little lie. he raised and eyebrow. "so, you telling the doll me that you loved me was not in any way influenced by what you feel for me in the real world, is that right?" he asked with a sort of sultry tone in his voice when he asked you that very last word.

you got a little flustered when he asked that, mimicking the image of the miggy doll you had right then and there. you chuckled nervously as you fidgeted with the miggy doll in your hand for a bit. "whaaaat? i love the miggy? no! no, i... i never said that! who would ever, hah, who would ever tell a doll they love it? it's a doll!" you tried to worm your way out of that when miguel placed his fingers underneath your chin and tilted your head slightly, in the way you did with your miggy doll, and made you face him. "but it looks like me, and dare i say, it's pretty damn accurate, scary accurate to what i look like. if you love that doll..." he trailed off as he inched his face closer to you, his breath hot on your face as he neared you, his nose gently brushing against yours. "...why not love me, hmm? i'm the real miggy, in the flesh. if you love him, why not me?" he asked, which made you gasp at how close he really was, how intense his gaze was–how gentle he held you, despite still keeping you in place with his dominating aura.

"so pretty, like a doll, you are... i still haven't gotten that doll version of you yet. to think of all the things i could play with them... oh, but i'll always save the best ones for you." he said as he moved his lips closer to your ear, softly kissing it a little as he began to whisper, "i'd always play the best games with you. we're each other's favorite playthings, no?"

a/n: HEHE ENDING IT HERE, ANYWAY I WANT A MIGGY DOLL NOW 😠😠😠💢💢💢

tags !! @thecoolerdor @miguelswifey04 @binibinileonara

[sunsents]

neteyam sully hcs - how he teases you (M)

headcannons about Neteyam teasing little shit sully. I've been craving to write this because I just KNOW he's so annoying and smug when he wants to be.

➵ pairing: agedup!neteyam x fem!reader (no use of y/n)

➵ warnings: this gets spicy towards the end so be warned. also, neteyams annoying asf, so be warned again.

DON’T REPOST MY WORK

Neteyam has a knack for romantics. He's seen plenty of his parents' very public displays of affection that make the entire herd say  "eewwww". At the ripe age of 37, Jake constantly pines over his wife and Neytiri is no better. 

The fact that the married couple has enough kids to form a goddamn baseball team is enough proof on its own. (And yes, Jake is painfully aware of this fact and is itching to introduce the sport to the poor na'vi children.)

Neteyam also has a way with words. In fact, he's so good with them that he can wax poetic about your bowel movements and you'd swoon nonetheless.

"Neteyam, are you drunk?" you'd ask after a particularly rowdy festival.

"No, I'm a poet." he'd tell you, drunk off his ass.

Cue the guy saying whatever comes to mind and trying to make it sound beautiful. "Oh, ____, Why, _____. Every move of your unaware knife stabs my heart. Your hands drip rewards of the sweetest juices a man dare crave." when you’re literally trying to cut fruit, or some shit like this. (idk im no poet use your imagination.)

Worst of all, it works. This man is mighty aware of how embarrassed and shy you get when he intricately weaves words just so he can see you blush and swat at him. He takes pleasure in your angry little tone in some weird, fucked up way. 

Which ends up with him developing a little...kink, if you will. He loves teasing. And in a condescending way too. 

He used to consider himself good-natured - didn't take pleasure in the humiliation of others, surely. His parents' relationship should have taught him well. And it did...but he just can't stop teasing you.

Perhaps it was your strangled voice telling him to cut it out, or the tint of your cheeks complimenting you oh so delightfully. He adored your reactions and coaxing them out was such fun. 

With this devilish smirk that could fluster anyone, (or so you'd tell yourself because you aren't weak...okay, maybe you are. but only for him.) he tells you how red you've become. He'd scissor his hands and squeeze your cheek between the two digits, "You're just so easy to mess with, my love."

This led to his teasing gaining an edge. And as he grew confident, he also got mean. His teases degraded you here and there but he was just so condescending; talking down at you as the prince of Omaticaya. Stuff like. “Oh, yawnetu. You’re always falling at my feet. Should I hold your hand?” when you trip and fall (because he made you trip and fall by looking extra good that day, and also ‘forgetting’ to put on pants. in your kelku, of course. or outside in the forest if you’re into that, you weirdo.)

 “Look at you, getting that fruit all over your mouth. Can’t even eat properly without my help.” when you eat particularly messily. 

“It’s cute that you think you can win these fights.” when you try to snap back. 

When he takes things particularly far, you get angry. Because damn, he's just so annoying sometimes. Never in your wildest dreams did you imagine the Olo’eyktan in training to be so smug and condescending. At first, he was all gentlemanly and teeth-rotting sweet. He’d encourage you, whisper sweet nothings in your ear, and be so freaking kind that it’d make you want to cry. 

When your mate got too comfortable, however, things went down. "Can you pass me the f-

"Only if you kiss me,"

"At what point do you become mature?"

"When you kiss me,"

"God, I hate you."

"Your pussy wasn't exactly screaming I hate you Neteyam this morning, but maybe that's just me."

He’s still sweet, of course. This man has no bad bone in his body, it’s true. He loves you so much that he can’t help but poke fun at your antics, and makes sure you know it’s all fun and games. When it’s fun and game time though, he’s ruthless. 

And he's so proud of himself too. Puffing out his chest smugly and prancing around, boasting his confidence. You just want to wipe that sly smirk off his face - but you can't. It falls on deaf ears when Neteyam jokingly personalizes a better-than-thou attitude

"Oh, do I annoy you?” he would ask you after watching you groan and roll your eyes. “Not more than usual,” you would tell him, and he would just smirk, striding towards you and pulling you into a fat kiss. 

Of course, these shenanigans follow him into the bedroom.

Lo'ak is evidently more like Jake when it comes to teasing. But Neteyam? Eywa have mercy on your poor soul. He's a mix of Neytiri, Jake, and perhaps Tsu'tey combined. (he's alive, argue with the wall.) The epitome of pure sex and the reincarnation of Asmodeus himself.

His tone is sweet yet condescending, smoothly purring into your ear while making fun of how easy it was to make your cunt ache with needy desire.

He would demand you finger yourself right in front of his prying eyes, then coo at you when you couldn't cum no matter how hard you tried. It was pathetic really, how diligently your fingers worked on your poor clit. But to no avail.

Neteyam would feast on the view like it was his meal for the week. With blown-out eyes and feral flicks of his tail, he would tease you all the while. Stuff like, "Let's see those fingers work harder. Oh come on, now you're just messing with me. There's no way you think that's what it takes to make you cum.

"I can’t concentrate when you look at me like that.” 

“Well, you should be concentrating on me instead,…maybe learn a few things.” he drawls, circling the head of his cock with a groan while imagining he’s rubbing your swollen clit.

And you'd try your best to remember how he made you cum. But no matter what, you just couldn't copy the way Neteyam spit on your clit to ease the ache or the way he strokes the nerves so gently with a finger. Only the clit, of course - because he's going to tease you, and teasing you involves edging the shit out of you until your eyes water and you can't help but beg.

The fact that you’re so accustomed to his fingers and cock was a little embarrassing. They had become proviso for you to cum. 

"You can't make yourself cum? How pathetic. Did I fuck you too good that it made you incompetent, or do you just like me too much?"

Neteyam always basks in his torture. He'd watch your hips buck wildly while begging and crying for him to fuck you right. He'd just sit there with wide legs, palming his hard cock and squeezing his balls ever so slightly at your pained mewls. Arms spread, head thrown back, he'd just observe you with additional snarky comments if he felt like it.

"Come on, you can do it. Oh, you got it, yes, there we g-...oh. What a pity."

[gay-wh0re-slut]

Hi! Can you write some angst + NSFW ending with the prompt

“You think I wanted this to happen? You think I, of all people, wanted to fall in love with you? This is why I knew I shouldn’t have gotten close to you.”

oooohohohohooo this is a good oneeee

idk if i can think of a way of ending with this but maybe somewhere in the beginning or middle/end ish? i hope that’s alright? it’ll still be angsty tho don’t worryyyy (i hope) hehe but thank you for the request!!

after writing: i kinda broke up what you wanted to be said and added a few things, i hope that’s okay

Please

content: rhea ripley x fem reader, angst, NSFW but pretty vanilla unfortch :/ sorry friends

Working backstage at WWE has its perks: getting to talk with the superstars, seeing how everything is put up and taken down, getting to go behind the scenes of the show; but it also has its downsides. You’re up late at night after the show taking everything down, cleaning up after everyone, making sure everything is put back in its place in the trucks to move to the next city. You’re always tired because of the schedule they have you on. Very rarely do you get time for yourself so you haven’t even thought of trying to have any kind of relationship.

Lately, you’ve been a bit on edge. Is it the lack of sleep? Probably. Is it the crush you have on THE Rhea Ripley when you swore to yourself you would never date a coworker? Most likely.

You’ve never voiced that you had this, but a lot of your coworkers have told you multiple times that you suck at hiding it. The way you stumble your words around her, or how your face gets red when she’s brought up in conversation, or how you refuse to talk to or about her in case of messing everything up. You’ve never had a crush last this long and it was eating you alive. It was hard to work sometimes because you would just stare, she was so captivating.

Unfortunately, one day the goth wrestler caught you staring and decided it would be a good idea to talk to you. “Hey, (y/n), you alright?”

“Huh?” your face became red, “oh yeah sorry, got caught in a daze.”

“Don’t apologize, I can tell you’re tired,” she sounded so caring, this was not helping your case, “they work you all too hard back here.”

You nervously laugh it off, “yeah, but that’s show biz.”

“Tell me about it,” she sighs, “You sure you’re okay?”

“Oh, psshh! Yeah totally,” you wave her pity away landing your hands on your hips.

“I know I’m scary looking but I’m always here if you want to talk. I know how it can be, trust me,” she takes out her phone, “let me get your number in case you want to chat.”

Oh god, oh fuck.

“Y-yeah for sure,” you hesitate grabbing the phone. You shake as you type your number in, you see that she already has your name typed out with the bubbles emoji next to it. “Why the bubbles?”

“You’re always bubbly,” she says casually with a small smile.

“Right,” you smile as you hand back the phone, “thank you.”

“For what?”

“Checking up on me.”

“Us tired people gotta stay together,” she laughs, “I’ll see ya around, yeah?”

“I’ll be here!” You give her a weak thumbs up as you watch her walk away.

“God,” you groan as you begin to fan yourself. You got nervously hot trying to muster up any sort of coherent sentence. Hopefully you didn’t sound too weird, you kinda blacked out for a second. “My number?!” you whisper to yourself, “that’s crazy.”

You could barely think about anything else the rest of the day constantly checking your phone to see if she texted you. Luckily, nothing happened. You were relieved when you went to the hotel that night and saw that she hadn’t texted you because that meant you couldn’t mess it up. You kept telling yourself that this was a silly crush that will go away soon…but you’ve said that for the past three months.

You didn’t realize the time until you heard your phone ding at 2:43am.

hey, it’s rhea

Of course her texts are all lowercase. You lay staring at the screen. Do you answer? Do you lie tomorrow and say that you actually fell asleep?

hey! what’s up

You decide to text back, what’s the use in lying, you thought.

i knew you’d be awake

you caught me

these hotel beds aren’t the best for people who can’t sleep huh

idk mine’s pretty comfy

Was that flirting? You weren’t sure, but hopefully she didn’t take it that way. The last thing you need is for her to start having a crush on you.

damn, you’re lucky. maybe i should come sleep with you then haha

Oh no, what do I say? Yes? Is she joking? Surely she’s just joking…fuck.

if i’m lucky again, maybe the next hotel we can share a room

Oh yeah good save…totally not flirting.

sounds like a plan

good. well i’m going to try to sleep hopefully

me too, we both have a long travel day tomorrow

goodnight ripley

sleep well (y/n)

You’ve only just realized that you’ve been cheesing at your phone this whole interaction. She’s taken over your entire being.

It was now 3:15am and you had a flight at 7:30am, so you might as well just lay there with your eyes closed in hopes of getting some sort of rest.

The week has passed, it was Monday again. Though the show starts at seven at night, crew had to be there at ten in the morning to make sure everything was ready before the stars showed up at two. You and Rhea hadn’t texted much, just some hello’s here and there with a few how’s your day’s, though she was on your mind constantly.

As the time drew closer and closer for the australian to walk through the door, you avoided that door at all costs. You tried to do anything to get you away from her path to her dressing room. Sweeping, wiping, snacking, literally anything.

“How’s the bed?” her accent flew threw the air behind you.

“W-what?” you turn around quickly.

She meets your gaze and stops a few feet in front of you with her little booty shorts and big tshirt, no makeup with her beefy arms crossed, “did you get lucky?”

You widen your eyes as you were taken aback, trying to process what she just said for a good few seconds before you realize what she was talking about, “oh!” you sigh in relief, “sorry! Yeah, no, got the lumpiest in the whole building probably,” you chuckle.

“Damn, seems like we switched sides this time around-,” she smirked.

You cut her off before anything else could happen, “Ha! I guess so,” you take a carrot from the snack table and chomp down, “I- uh… gotta go mop… th-the back hallway, see you later!” you lied. You basically ran away from her. You’ve already mopped that hallway… twice. Something about her in the shorts and tshirt made you so nervous.

Time went on, the show went on, the audience left, and luckily you’ve avoided the buff goth the whole night successfully.

“Hey, (y/n), Rhea’s looking for you. She’s in her room,” one of the PA’s said, nervously, “she seems a bit upset.”

Oh no, was all you could think. Repeating it in your head with every step, getting louder and louder, until you finally reached her door. You take a long deep breath before knocking lightly.

“It’s open,” she yelled through the wood.

So you walk in, closing the door behind you, you stand right behind the threshold not wanting to go any closer. She was already back in her tshirt, but this time she was wearing sweatpants. Her makeup was still on though with her hair rough with sweat.

“Are you avoiding me?” she asked bluntly.

“No,” you answer a little too quickly.

“You sure? Cause it sure does seem like it,” her arms crossed with anger.

“I’m pretty sure,” you lie again.

“Then why haven’t I seen you all day?” she sneaks closer to you.

“I’ve been…working, it was busy today,” you step back.

“You just so happened to be extra busy today,” she stood wide in front of you, basically pushing you against the door.

You couldn’t think, she was so close you could smell the faint cologne she put on earlier that was left on the shirt. You settle for a small nod, holding your breath, hoping she would take that as an answer.

She didn’t, “I don’t believe you,” she growled.

“Well, I-”

“What? You think you can be friendly one day and the next you just completely ignore me?” she threw her hands up in surrender before landing them on her hips.

Your heart was beating a million miles a minute, you could barely breathe, “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t thin-”

“Yeah, you didn’t think. You didn’t think how I would feel, did you?” she stepped back a little as she turned away from you shaking her head.

You didn’t dare say anything.

A few moments passed of her staring at the wall with her jaw clenched and you plastered to the door deciding whether or not to make a run for it.

She dropped her chin to her chest with a big sigh, “look,” she started calmly, which was scarier than earlier somehow, “being me,” she gestured towards herself turning back to you, “it’s hard to make friends, so when you were one of the only people that were nice to me I thought we had something going.”

“Rhea…” you drop your guard, but only a little.

“Please,” she held her hand up and you shut your mouth immediately. “I try so hard to be nice to everyone. I’ve been betrayed so many times it’s hard to let the walls down.”

Now you’re the one stepping towards her in hopes of creating some sort of comfort.

“I don’t want to be let down again,” she admits.

“I understand,” you whisper.

She didn’t take the comfort, “How could you? Everyone loves you! I’ve never seen you not make a friend. You’re so nice and caring,” her voice raised again. “So when you didn’t talk to me all day, I knew it was something I did. And I can’t bare to have another ‘friend’, ” she air quoted, “leave me because of…me.”

Your heart sank at her words. You did think of her as a friend except you wanted her to be more than a friend, which was the problem. You scoured your brain thinking of something to say that would make her feel better, until it clicked.

“You think I wanted this to happen?” you finally say.

“What?” she barks.

“I like you, Rhea, a little too much actually,” your heart was beating indescribably fast.

She just stared in surprise.

“You think I, of all people, wanted to fall in love with you?”

“In lov-” she began to question.

“This is why I knew I shouldn’t have gotten close to you. I would’ve gotten too close and I was afraid that you wouldn’t love me back,” you finally admit with a sigh. Your eyes begin to form tears but you try your best to suck them back in.

The purple eyeshadow blinks. Without a second thought, she rushed towards you grabbing your face, pulling you in for a deep kiss. After a few seconds, you push her away. Piercing blue eyes were just as surprised as yours as if she didn’t know she was going to do that either.

Still holding your jaw, “I- I’m sorry. I shouldn’t hav-”

You pull her back in by her waist to kiss her once more. Your lips moving gracefully against hers. You knew the black lipstick was smearing, but you couldn’t care less. She gently walked you backwards towards the door with a small push to pin you against it. One of her hands found its way to your back pulling you in as close as possible. Heavy breaths filled the room as lips continued to dance.

Her hand sneaked its way to the button of your pants, “can I…” she panted.

You nod your head, “mhmm,” you whine, as you go back to kissing her.

She swiftly undoes the button and sneaks her hand in, but not in your underwear. She was gently caressing your center, when small moans fell out of you. Her free hand grabbed your neck and tilted your head to the side to allow her to kiss your neck, leaving black marks as she went.

“Is this okay?” the accent whispered.

“Yess,” you breathe, “do whatever…you want to me.”

“Oh?” she kisses up your neck between words, “how about…I just… give you a taste… of what could happen…then later…I’ll show you…what I can really do,” by now her pace has quickened and the familiar knot in your stomach is quickly being untangled.

You could only nod your head in response, not wanting to moan too loud in fear of someone hearing you from the other side of the door. Your lips catch hers once more as you whine into her mouth.

It didn’t take long for you to almost come undone. Your hips were slightly riding her hand as she moved perfectly against you, “that’s it, love, don’t hold back,” she held your neck a little harder than gentle, secure against the door.

The oxygen left your lungs and the knot finally loosened as you slammed your head against the door. “Fuuuck,” you moan. Your legs were weakening by the second as she tried her best to hold you up. You scratched your way down her back as she chuckled in your ear at the slight pain.

As you came back to earth, your lips met hers a few more times before she removed her hand and buttoned your pants back up for you.

She let you catch your breath still holding you against the door but her hands were now at your waist with most of her body flush with yours. “Now, do you want me to come to your room or you come to mine?”

“I thought you had the nice bed this time,” you breathe.

“Oh yeah,” she smirked knowing what the answer was already, “my room it is then. See you there,” she kissed you once more before removing herself from you. She grabs her bags and gestures towards the door.

You open the door and let her through, following behind her. “I’ll meet you at the hotel, I have to grab my stuff,” you walk the opposite way.

“Don’t take too long, or we’ll be up all night,” she winked towards you.

“See you soon, Ripley.”

[karmathehalflander]

Why both Eddie and Venom are autistic and how the movies are actually a metaphor for neurodivergence

Includes some of my personal headcanons and concepts that I’ve been thinking about and need to share.

BE WARNED!!! This post is a bit long (and also a cringy, rambling, nonsensical mess) full thing under cut.

Some quick notes before we begin: when I have one of their names at the beginning of a section it means anything in that section only applies to one of them. (Idk, I couldn’t figure out how to organize this, you’ll see what I mean)

I don’t know much comic lore, all of this is based off of the movies. Though the movies are a different universe so I don’t think it will matter too much.

Also I use He/They/It pronouns for Venom.

In the end, Im just one guy with a hyper fixation please take everything I say with a grain of salt and feel free to add on or correct me about stuff. Especially if I say anything stereotypical or offensive about nurodivergance/autism a lot of this is based on some personal experience and I absolutely make mistakes and generalizations.

Alright enough of my yapping let’s get to it.

Overall big picture stuff

Applies to Both of them

the whole concept of them being “losers” together is kind of autistic coded. Autistic people are often viewed as incompetent or childish or useless. And I like to think they are connecting over that shared experience.

Noise sensitivity!!! Both of them have noise sensitivity! I probably don’t need to elaborate that much but that one scene in their apartment was some of the best overstimulation representation I’ve ever seen overstimulation guitar scene

Venom

Venom comes across as unfeeling because they don’t emote in a “normal” way.

They’re very blunt and literal.

Venom sometimes has a slightly higher-pitched voice when excited or angry. Which I’m going to attribute to him masking. He wants to appear tougher and scarier. This is important to its species and Venom, who is already perceived as weak by their peers, intentionally deepens his voice a bit to blend in. (This is definitely a headcanon but I love this concept so I don’t care that the real reason is that the voice modifier they use does silly things)

This is also why I think it’s so concerned about Eddie and him “looking bad” Looking weak was dangerous and they trained themself to hide “weakness”

It’s always “How does Venom affect people” and never “What does Venom need and how do other people’s actions affect them”

Venom prefers to express its thoughts and feelings through mental connection with its host and then have that person relay the information to whomever they are “speaking” to. Nonverbal communication!

Venom not understanding humans (social interaction, conventions, etc.) is kind of autistic coded.

Eddie

Edie kind of disregards a lot of social conventions. Still hangs out with his ex-fiancé AND her boyfriend. He also doesn’t seem to mind talking to Venom out loud.

Eddies is just kind of anxious in general.

Eddie struggles to find full time employment.

On that vein, he also struggles to maintain relationships.

Eddie's sense of justice. Eddie has a strong sense of justice and morals that often don’t align with generally accepted values and he follows this view of justice and morality to an absurd degree and it often gets him in trouble. Aka, the entire plot of the first movie is because Eddie has autism.

He wears the same clothes all the time.

Specific moments that I think about

Venom

Venom chewing on the tire swing (they both have oral stims btw)

Sand between his toes. Idk I just thought it was cute and chose to believe they like the sensation.

Say it with me. Tater tots are a safe food!!!

Venom rocks back and forth a lot.

This is a stretch but when Venom is like “look at all these weirdos, my kind of people” it’s a metaphor for him being queer but I’d argue it also kind of fits with neurodivergence. Neurodivergent people often connect with “weirdos” (other neurodivergent people)

Likes organization “Pile of bodies, pile of heads”

Eddie

I’ve been told Eddie chews on his necklace at the beginning of the movie but I can’t find the clip and can’t do a rewatch right now so take that with a grain of salt… (I chose to believe this happened though. Also his bracelets are stim heaven)

When he says “Oh, I have a parasite” to Mrs. Chen he had no clue what to say here. He just said the first thing that came to mind and panicked instead of explaining.

Also the way he says things funny. Ex: “✨It’s a treeeee✨” supa, supa, fhasstt” “Heee…. has. one. up. hi’s. Ass toooooo” “ET. Phone home. Aliens? 😃” I chose to believe they are vocal stims (I also attempted to find a compilation but I couldn’t find any. Maybe I’ll make one sometime)

Eddie also makes sound effects a lot.

Eddie writes notes on pen and paper instead of digitally.

He apologizes an excessive amount. Like he says “I’m sorry” to people actively trying to kill him. Which is so real.

“I just bit that guys head off” “I, uhhh, yea I’ve been there it’s not fun” 😕

Eddie also rocks back and forth. Which can be seen in this scene

Quick segment into why I think Venom was rejected by other Klyntar (it’s because he has autism)

Venom doesn’t adapt as quickly or as efficiently as other Klyntar. It doesn’t handle change well.

All of the normal Klyntar weaknesses are turned up to 1000 with them. Instead of just certain frequencies, the range that hurts him is larger and is also affected by loud noises. As shown by: “Venom” car alarm scene

instead of just fire, heat also bothers it. Also doesn’t adapt to light well. (Just a headcanon)

Can’t create weapons out of their body like other Klyntar. struggles with “simple” skills.

Much more emotional than other Klyntar and develop attachments (also purely a headcanon)

Just overall didn’t fit well into their society.

Just headcanons

Venom and Eddie are so compatible because their brains work the same way.

“I wish I could just mentally project my thoughts and feelings directly into your brain. Oh wait, we can do that!”

Venom also has temperature sensitivities. He gets hot.

Venom likes to stim to low key music, mainly jazz and lo-fi. Does the one song on repeat for three hours to wring all the happy chemicals out of it like a dish rag thing.

Venom also absolutely loves cheesy pop music (unrelated to anything here but I’m right and I needed to include it)

Venom functions as a weighted blanket for Eddie when he’s anxious. Maybe even hides under his shirt and stuff and becomes an extra weight.

Eddie stims with his jewelry.

Venom likes to sit in the freezer. Sometimes they visit Mrs. Chen's walk in just to chill (lol)

Purely my opinion but I think Venom also has some light sensitivity for a bit because it’s not used to being in such a bright environment. He gets used to it eventually but every once in awhile he finds the city lights overstimulating.

They are both very tactile. Touching things. Love a good texture.

Venom is super particular about food for someone who eats out the garbage but certain textures and flavors drive them crazy.

Venom hates vegetables. (Except for celery because it likes the crunchy and stringyness of it)

How all of this makes for a great metaphor!

Feeling like an alien in the world is probably the most relatable thing for a lot of nurodivergent people. Like there’s a manual for being human you don’t have. And just the concept of a literal alien showing up and struggling to navigate in a world not made for it is so relatable!

The way they both immediately connect to each other because they have the same weird brain stuff and weren’t accepted by their respective societies is so adorable and wholesome.

“We’re not so different, you and I” This line lives rent-free in my mind at all times. It’s my favorite quote. I think it perfectly encapsulates their relationship and why it’s special. They have autism and are bonding because the other is the first person who truly understands them! (Cries, screams, throws up)

In conclusion

They are in love and have autism. And they cling to each other because they are the first people to truly understand each other. Thank you for coming to my ted talk.

Also I listened to UFO by Smith and Thell on loop while writing this. It’s very autistic symbrock coded so give it a listen if you’re a fan of inde-pop.

[fictionfixations]

signature spells and the person

(referencing this list because i cant remember them all)

spoilers for all books. and glorious masquerade

(note that some characters i dont know well at all. which you can kind of tell with me being super unsure. there's this person in the reblogs who elaborated on bits i wasn't quite correct on or didnt have an idea on so go read it!)

signature spells embodying the person sort of? Riddle - collar. restriction. limitations.

Deuce - not taking hits lying down. striking back. (a reckless idiot like that)

Cater - hm.. putting on an act for everyone? people pleaser? so its like. all of those little 'acts' and 'personas' he puts on are sort of 'him' in a sense. but its also not him at the same time. (like how the clones arent actually him because they're just a creation of his magic. but they are him in a way, too right?)

trey - sneaky sneaky guy who notices a lot more than you'd think. presents himself as one way but he's complicated

Leona - sand. like all his hard work turning to sand, or basically nothing.

Jack - wolves work in packs, right? he wants to work in a pack. (even though he says he doesn't). they're strong, but they do better together. ..probably. idk.

Ruggie - treating all people 'equally' (in the sense that he'd mess with them all. unless they were a serious trouble to deal with) also sucks up to people........ (and probably laughing at them behind their back for being such a 'fool' haha get it. because fool's parade..--) maybe? Idk.

Azul - exchanging his old self for an asshole basically (because he must've been a nicer guy as a bby. but then ppl were mean to him and now he's very bitter.)

Jade - acting like the more calmer and reasonable of the twins, even though he can be just like floyd, if a bit more dangerous considering he can get under your skin, get you trust him, that he just wants to 'help you'. and you tell him all your secrets. and then it 'shocks your heart' when he reveals his true colors. (like bruh. his halloween groovification message was literally, "Oooh, I love it when you flee in terror. It makes me want to chase you!")

Floyd - i don't know. uhhh. in his lab coat(?) vignette there's this moment where a guy bumps into him, is like 'hEY WHO DO YOU--' and then realizes its floyd and backs off. basically the guy who intimidates them to make them weaker, ig? terrorizing them. 'binding the heart' in fear. i mean he'll still hurt them ofc, but the point is is that he's the scary one, jade's the 'calm' one, thats his image to people. i dont know him nearly well enough to really get it.

Kalim - wishing for everyone to be happy. to dance and sing and forget about all the troubles. throwing parties and feasts to cheer them up (and granting them relief when needed). although it doesn't always end well and his attempts can end up 'useless', like how oasis maker is 'useless' when people already have easy access to water. but at other points desperately needed.

Jamil - turning him into the 'master' and the other the 'servant'

Vil - planting 'curses' in plain sight. masking it. disguising it. acting. like putting on makeup to change something. maybe. possibly. (this is weak) maybe a false reassurance. a mask.

Epel - accepting who he is (that he's short and seen as 'cute'. and so using it to his advantage.) like, seeming 'soft and dainty' but actually a guy who can beat someone up. like, 'you'll just go to sleep..' (and then the crimson part of slumber with a negative meaning. the poison apple. something that looks innocent but is actually harmful.) and then you never wake up again because you were TRICKED HAHAHA /hj

Rook - will literally do anything for what his fixations are. in which his fixations are 'beauty', which is a very vague category and include literally everything. also very very creepy and stalker-ish in the process.

Idia - honestly idfk. uh. 'responsibility'. burdens. control. it literally just represents a part of his job? idfk. its such a big part of him (also his family had the same UM so like..) that its just. who he is.

Malleus - there was this quote he said about how 'when you nap, even 500 years could pass without you noticing'. so it could be something like how time moves by so fast like that

guh.. it was "Give in to slumber, and a thousand years will pass in the blink of an eye."

Silver - I don't know him that well... i mean like there's references to him having parallels with like. i think.. aurora?? the girl who maleficent cursed. i think. dreams and wishes. i don't know i havent even seen him use it yet LMFAO (ive only finished part 2 of book 7..) maybe like. things not seeming real..? idk man. a desire to see people, to stay by their side, but can't, so instead it'll be in a dream. so either it isn't real, a mere fantasy, or, shrug. like. yknow the remember me song in coco? it's like 'and everytime you hear a guitar you'll remember and think about me' (i cant remember the exact lyrics)

Sebek - admires malleus. a lot. malleus has control over lightning or something. so sebek in turn becomes that 'lightning' that he can control, as his guard and stuff like that. 'i will be his sword', maybe.

lilia - he reflects a lot about the past imo. overly aware of things and the passing of time. at least in my opinion. how things can pass by so easily. so he takes little bits and pieces to cherish for the rest of his life, and to think back on. a trip back down memory lane, as they say.

Rollo - literally gets set on fire like his brother..?? that thing forever haunting him that its such a big part of him at this point (hating magic and hating what happened.) and him hating himself making himself see him as part of the reason why his brother died, and therefore making him literally the thing that killed him sort of?

[spacexseven]

Ngl god darling is better than darling with a god ability tbh

Also would nikolai try to kill god darling? And I wonder what dearest sigma would think, he's just so lovely

OH ALSO HAVE YOU SEEN THE NEW XIAO THING? It's been around for a while and idk if I asked you about it but he's so pretty wth

not sure what xiao thing you're talking about but he's always so pretty i want to squish him

cw: yandere themes, bad end for nikolai :<

even with your years of watching people, you had yet to see someone like nikolai.

despite his claims that his motives were perfectly clear and that you should be able to understand him perfectly, he always seemed, to you, like a puzzle missing its final piece. what was that piece for him? was it the morality he lacked? when you asked him that, though, he told you that he liked to think he was a puzzle with too many pieces—sentience when everyone else lived like puppets, desire greater than any other, and so on. how could you complete an anomalous puzzle, with no real final picture?

"tell me," he once asked, voice uncharacteristically somber, eyes gazing down at his blood-streaked hands, "can a human become a god?"

it occurred to you then that nikolai was only trying to run from something. something that made him human, something he hated. you think back to the times when he told you he wanted to be free, wanted to stop feeling. was that the extra piece he couldn't get rid of?

still, he was kind to you. or at least as kind as he could be, between jovial, teasing comments and moments of unfiltered rage. he called you his friend, but he said that about fyodor too, and a few nights ago he was trying to convince you to kill him.

"can a god die?" at your questioning look, he added, "can you?"

"i'm not sure. i haven't gotten that close yet," you admitted "but i suppose for a god, being forgotten is as close to death as they can get."

"i won't forget you," he smiled, but the gesture was far from reassuring when his eyes glimmered with something bright.

you wondered if you had unintentionally sparked something in him. you even considered the possibility that you'd wake up the next morning to find him with a knife at your throat. if he was determined to kill fyodor to achieve what he thought was pure freedom, who's to say you won't be next? knowing nikolai, it was easier to believe that he was a monster, a creature of pure evil, bloodthirsty, and seeking to haunt. but things were never that simple. there were times when your heart ached for him, wondering why he had to go down this path. and those times, you truly felt useless, wondering if you couldn't do anything even in your position.

now, you wonder, if it was your sympathy that made you weak.

"it's not fair. i won't forget you," nikolai sighs, "even if anyone else will. but you'll live on even if i'm not here and you'll forget me."

you wish to tell him that you won't, but in your current position, bleeding out at a rapid pace from numerous wounds and head spinning, you can barely handle the pain, let alone move your dry lips. you remember that nearby you is fyodor's body, cold and long dead. it was almost cruel how the closest you'd ever felt to being human was when you were dying.

"hey, but you're a god!" he must have thrown his hands up, from your memory of him, but nikolai's voice grows shriller, though you can't tell if it's from excitement or panic, "you'll come back, like that thing you mentioned before? reincarnation! and you have...powers..." you could tell instinctively that he was looking over at fyodor's corpse.

you want to tell him that you aren't sure. you've never been much use, even as a god. you've always liked being a human more. maybe you will come back, but likely not, and you definitely can't save fyodor anymore. you don't think anyone can. but the words escape you as your vision goes black. the only thing accompanying your dying body was a warm hand on your cheek and nikolai's incoherent mumbling.

sigma, admittedly, was your favorite. you saw a little bit of yourself in him and his desire to find his purpose. but most of all, you liked his determination, his unwavering resolve. it was nice to see how he ran the casino so perfectly, and you thought his position complemented him well.

but unlike nikolai who was easy to sling an arm around and drag out or fyodor, who was always ready to listen to any word that came out of your mouth, sigma was a little harder to get to. he was always working, cleaning up after the other two's messes, and keeping his customers happy. always on the go, and it was getting harder and harder to catch him. the only times he seemed to be able to listen to you was when you caught him staring out the balcony at the world below the casino, only accompanied by the moonlight. he was always gentler then, softer, but more solemn. it was during one of those nights that he finally asked you something.

"so, you're really a god?"

you awkwardly shuffle, "yes. i know fyodor is a bit too enthusiastic about it, but i really can't do much anyway. i'm more like...the remnant of what i used to be."

"is this how the world looks like to you?" he asks, looing at the tiny blinking lights below.

"it's...overwhelming. the world is so big and full of life, and i've never felt like i was a part of it. i love being around people more than anything, but i'm always reminded that i'll never be like them."

sigma stiffens up, still not meeting your gaze, "you're looking for it too, right? to feel like you have your own place here..."

and then, for the first time since you met him, he smiles, "at least we have each other." you smile back, not realizing he took it a little too seriously.

despite your differences, you were just like sigma—maybe that was why he liked you so much. sigma knew all his customers by heart, slaving away to memorize each face and the mannerisms behind it, their likes and dislikes, just to design an ideal experience for them here. all he ever had was the sky casino, and he was aware of just how easily it could be taken away from him. because of this, it wasn't anything unusual to see sigma meticulously studying each of his guests, observing them closely, and noting down his thoughts. maybe that's why you never suspected anything when he stared at you for far too long, something other than a sense of duty burning behind his eyes, something unlike his usual concerns dominating his mind. maybe that was why you didn't mind his new interest in you, stepping in to drag you away from nikolai and boldly insisting to fyodor that he needed to talk to you.

if only you had said something then, you wouldn't have to face this situation; sigma on his knees, pleading for you to stay, to not follow fyodor out of the casino again. you might stay away for weeks, he insisted, and it wouldn't be safe. all he had was you, so please, don't leave with him. and looking at the pain in sigma's eyes, you already knew it wouldn't end well if you didn't comply.

[destinysbounty]

Huh. I just dug up an old fan-theory i came up with back when i was like 15. And while its definitely way too weak to hold up against any real scrutiny, it at the very least makes for some mildly interesting fanfic fodder so i thought id share it with the greater fandom hivemind.

(Dont come at me about the holes in this theory btw, i was practically a baby when i came up with this and it was one of my first attempts at theory-crafting. Trust me, ive come a long way since then)

Anyway, the theory goes like this:

While in the lighthouse, Dr. Julien builds a replica of his son. But try as he might to get it to turn on, it never actually works. Whatever special spark brought the first Zane to life is inexplicably absent from this one. So he locks it away in his basement, and never gives it the light of day again. This is the reason Dr. Julien never told Zane about Echo, or brought him with them - because at the time, Echo wasnt even functional. Wouldnt even turn on. Was nothing more than a lifeless shell collecting rust in the basement.

So how, then, did Echo become sentient by season 6? Great question! But uhh heres where the theory kinda starts to go off the rails. So buckle up, folks.

Basically the theory goes that when Zane died at the end of s3, his soul still lingered in Ninjago. And his disembodied spirit eventually found itself drawn to a vessel that was similar to the one he'd lost - one his father had built yet long abandoned. But his new body lacked the memory storage contained within his old one, and his resurrection effectively gave him almost complete amnesia. All he could remember was his name and his purpose (to protect those who cannot protect themselves).

Meanwhile, when Titanium Zane says hes a replica, hes actually completely right about that. Some fragments of his code left behind from his visit to the Digiverse gained sentience and inherited Zane's elemental power, creating the Zane we know and love today.

But the original Zane, the one that died fighting the Overlord, actually ended up becoming Echo Zane. Which then would have explained why Zane had so many holes in his memories after being resurrected, and why his sixth sense became much less active as well - he was only made from fragments of the real Zane's code, after all.

Now, as the big smart grownup i am today, i can look back at this theory my baby self had crafted and poke about a million holes into it. But...idk, i always feel nostalgic about this theory in spite of all that. Not just bc it was one of my first fan theories ever, but also bc it would have such fascinating narrative implications if true.

Like, the idea of Mr. E being Echo? Well, if we apply that to the concept of Echo being the Original Zane, then his hatred for Current Zane takes on a whole new dimension. It also gives me a lot of emotions about the whole Ice Emperor situation, as well as Zane's apparent discomfort towards his own statue.

And what kind of position does that put the rest of the gang in? If they had to choose between saving one or the other - the Zane who died for you, or the Zane who lives for you - which one would they choose? Could they choose? How long do you have to love a replica before it starts to feel more authentic than the original? And in that case, who becomes the 'real' zane? The one you love, or the one you lost?

Again. This theory has more holes in it than the Titanic. Cut me some slack, i was an idiot child and also a novice at making theories. But giving credit where its due, i do think it at least raises some interesting concepts. And Ive always casually wondered what would happen if it turned out to be true.

Like i said. Fanfic fodder.

[eeulysian]

ha. ha. ha. since ur requests are open.. I'll be requesting a fic for my beloved, chelsea from path to nowhere. writer!reader who makes novels and chelsea is interested in reader's works hehejwheueh.. he.. heh.. ok neways ^_^ chelsea then gives reader an opportunity to make their works more popular!!!.. if tjat makes sense idk but!!! in exchange, chelsea gets to have reader for herself! then reader is tempted but they'll make money from it so.. yah. in other words, this is kind of like idk prostitution— but i promise if u word it in a different way, it's ok... this happened to me in a dream btw

(heh.. nsfw.. if that's ok.. idk im kinda down bad for chelsea since shes my gf)

⟡ . IRRATIONAL COMPENSATION

summary: all in the request above!

cw: afab!reader, developing smut, oral and fingering (f!receiving), dom/sub dynamics, chelsea is a flirt, did i make it too long... chelsea is a squirter change my mind

a/n: i wouldn't call it prostitution? maybe compensation is a better word!! and i'm sorry if this isn't good enough, its my first time making smut 😞 and i think i went overboard and made it too long... soz i was too into it 💔💔

WRITING used to be a hobby for you, you used to be that wattpad kid that would make those alpha vampire boyfriend and the sheltered white girl kind of fics. but as you grew older, you began to take your hobby seriously, and it became a dream for you to become a novelist. so of course, you were able to get yourself into a publishing house, making yourself an official author. the only problem is, the publishing house is really unknown, so none of your works were able to make it big. you only had about like what — 50 or so fans/readers? yeah, even though you were grateful that they read your works, a part of you still wishes for the numbers to magically increase by the coming days.

you thought there was no hope for you, your works and your dreams, so you decide to drown yourself in alcohol, hoping to forget all your worries. so you went to a bar to get yourself a drink. then a second. then a third. then a fourth. then a fifth.

when is this going to end?

oh you were soooo depressed, no matter how many shots you took, your worries couldn't get out of your head. "i'm about to lose it," you think. not until a sultry voice called out to you from your right. "hey cutie, you seem to be stressed. what's the matter?"

you hastily turn to your right to find the source of the silky voice, and your (e/c) orbs meets with ones that are as red as wine. not to mention, her hair was pink. oh fuck. pink. pink hair??? you had a thing for pink haired girls. and this girl made you weak to the knees. it's probably because you're a little tipsy, but right there at that moment you wished you could kiss her oh so annoyingly, attractive red lips. this woman was downright beautiful and it's amazing how only her voice made you forget your worries.

she waves her hand infront of your face, trying to get your attention "hello? earth to... what's your name?" she chuckles, and at that moment you realized you've been too lost in your thoughts so you look like you've been staring at her for quite some time now... how embarrassing. "oh, m'sorry i think i'm just a little tipsy right now hahaaa... i'm y/n. andddddd you? beautiful lady?" what the fuck y/n why did you say that you're WAY too drunk to be flirting with gorgeous ladies right now you could trip and laugh it off like it's nothing in this state what is wrong —

your thoughts were cut off by her honey voice yet again once you hear her laugh ring in your ears. she laughs at your attempt to flirt even in such a state, but she replies nonetheless. "just call me chelsea. so tell me, what has made you so stressed, that you have to take about 5 or more shots of alcohol at once? are you a divorcee or a widow? work problems?", she asks you, curious to see if she's able to help you. what a kind beautiful lady. "the last one you just said", you managed to let out, and averted eye contact to not look at her. "i'm a failed novelist... ugh. i can't even get any of my works to be a hit. it's always just a 2-digit-amount of people reading them. i'm not saying i'm ungrateful, i just wish it was more popular." you sounded so exhausted, so worn out, and so stressed. chelsea felt bad, and she was trying to think of a way to console you.

then an idea came in. "how about this", you turn your head around to look at her again once she said that. "i'm quite rich, and i have a big social media platform as well. i could promote your works for you so your works can do numbers", your eyes lit up at that sentence, "but in exchange, i get you." then your eyes widened. confused on what she meant. "you get me in exchange...?" you were baffled. "yes, meaning i get to have a one night stand with you... or you can even just be mine straight away~" she smirks, looking at you dead in the eye. at that moment you noticed her eyes are filled with lust and desire.

oh that sentence, that smirk, the way those eyes look at you, you were sobered up. the bustling sound of chatting and laughing of other bar customers goes deaf in your ears, you're only focused on this pink haired woman and the loud beating of your heart. why is your heart beating so fast do you have arrhythmia? "so, what do you say?", she asks you again, and all the thoughts are running in your head. this might be a bad idea... but your co workers don't have to know, right? i mean, you're tempted. tempted to make your works a hit, and tempted to spend a night with this beautiful, enchanting woman.

at last, you decided to go with the latter, and accept her offer. "... okay. i'll accept that exchange." you hesitantly said, and all you see is a wolf-like smile infront of you. you can't deny that the way she looks at you is kinda... turning you on. "good girl." you flushed at that sentence. you look like the equivalent of a tomato right now. she called you a good girl? oh fuck you could even get on your knees for this woman.

"give me a copy of one of your best works, and i'll read it when i'm home. after that, i'll tell you if i like it and promote it for you. but you'll have to give me your number first so i can let you know how it goes," she winks, she is a woman of her word indeed. "if it turns out to be successful, then i can give you my address and you can come over... after all, our exchange can't be one sided, right? ♡" you were still blushing, but i mean... popular works? money? pretty girlfriend? you were more than happy to comply. you two exchanged numbers, and luckily you coincidentally brought your best work in your bag to read it when you get home, so you gave her your book, which was about a highschool slowburn romance, the characters are too happy so expect them to be doomed by the narrative because you're evil just like that lmao. you told her she didn't have to worry, as this is just a copy and you have all your original works at home.

she took the book, and you said "i'll be waiting for the results then, tell me if you like it and if you're able to promote it", you laugh sheepishly, kind of embarrassed how a beautiful woman is helping you and not you helping the beautiful woman instead. "of course, i'll read it in my free time and tell you how it goes~," she says in a sultry, flirtatious tone. you could only laugh nervously. "get home safely now," she leans in close to you to give you a peck on the cheek, and it left a faint red lipstick stain. you couldn't even talk at all, you were left shocked, baffled, flustered, shy, embarrassed, confused. girlfailure moment

✧༺♡༻✧

almost 2 weeks have passed, and you were procrastinating in your room because it was your day off. you were playing games, reading books and eating. at this moment you're watching a show of your choice on netflix on your laptop, but alas your peaceful moment was disturbed by a loud buzzing from your phone. "who the hell is calling me?", you said, clearly annoyed because whoever is calling you just ruined your netflix and chill time. probably your best friend or a co worker ready to bother you.

but the name you see on your phone is "chelsea", so you just had to pause your show because you just knew it was about your novel. you hesitantly answered the phone, and the first thing you hear is "hey cutie, i just finished reading your book", she says through the phone, and you swallow, scared of how she thinks of it. "... and i have to say, your writing is quite impressive, the way you organize the storyline and give your characters so much personality," you smile at the compliment, though she can't see it, so you say "really?", hoping she hears how happy you are.

"yes, so it's safe to say i can promote your name and your work on my social media. but even so if i ended up not liking it, my interest for you would have not gone away anyways." she says, followed with an attractive giggle that has your heart going crazy. but you're very ecstatic nonetheless, because you know your works are about to get popular after she promotes it. yes bitch get that bag

"thank you for helping me, i really appreciate it. i'm sorry i had to trouble you over my own work problems." you answer her, apologetic for dragging her into your personal matters. "don't worry about it baby, i'm happy to help. but please do remember..."

"that if you want to pay me back, then you'd have to pay back with you, and only you."

you remembered the exchange you had with her. and you become red, whether it's about the pet name, or the agreement you guys had. "oh, right... uhm, what do you want me to do then? come over?", you asked. "yes. that's exactly what i want. i'll text you my address. i'll be waiting, hot stuff~", and that's where you know you're going to have the time of your life. whew

✧༺♡༻✧

you finally arrived at her house. damn it was a nice house. 2 storey, clean, shiny and modern, and you can tell theres a pool in the backyard. you check your phone, it's 8:32 PM right now. you knocked on the door 3 times, no answer. you knocked again, another 3 times. then the door swings open, and you're met with those red wine eyes and luscious pink hair again. and you notice that she's wearing one of those... dress-type lingeries. you were sure you were at your last percentage of sanity because of it.

"hey, it's been a while." she gives you a silent giggle. "it certainly has been. well uhm, how have you been? did you post anything about my works?", you asked her, i mean you were eager to know if your work is gonna do numbers and hoping you'll wake up to your works getting sold out by tomorrow. "oh, straight to the point... is your work more important than me?", she answers, clearly sarcastic with the way she immediately laughs right after. you panic slightly, but before you could protest, she talks once again. "don't worry, my post about your book is already going viral, so expect all your works to get sold out tomorrow and your publishing house flourishing overall~"

once you heard that, you were glad you met this woman by a miracle. but oh, you shouldn't forget the deal you made with her. "thank you so much, really. i appreciate it. but so um, about the deal...", you say weakly, heart beginning to pound fast in your chest and you try to avert eye contact with her. but yet again, she always manages to catch your attention, and she pulls your face closer to hers, making you look into her eyes.

"mhm, and you remember what you have to pay with, right?~", she says with her red blood pupils looking right into your (e/c) ones, by now it's obvious how eager she is to devour you whole. you swallow, sweat falling down your neck, and you look flushed. "yes... i guess i shouldn't make our exchange to be one sided."

and with that, she pulls you inside her house, shutting the door and crashes her lips onto yours. she pulls you slowly to her kitchen while sloppily making out with you, and you feel like you're on fire. you want to please this woman, and make her feel so good. you start taking the lead for a bit and push her onto a counter, continuing to make out tongue to tongue with her. she wraps her hand around your shoulders and hair, moaning in between your kisses and grinding on your thigh... and that was when you can tell that she's quite... damp.

"mmhh hah~", she pulls away from the kiss to look at you with hazy eyes, "i want you to... go down on your knees, and eat me out." she manages to let out breathlessly, "i want you to please me, and be a good pet for me." you could only nod quietly. even if it means getting on your knees and barking like a dog just to marry this woman, you would do it anyways.

you slowly get down on your knees while she sits still on top of the counter, spreading her legs to give you easier access. you reach out for the hem of her pantie lingerie, slowly pulling it down. by the moment her pantie reaches her thigh, her pussy juices made a thin bridge with the inside of her pantie, which was an erotic sight for you and turned you on even more. that thin bridge was cut off the moment you pulled her pantie down completely and threw it onto the floor. gripping her thighs and spreading them a little wider, you lean it to give her aching clit a kiss. you earn a shocked gasp from the pink haired woman above you, shuddering the moment you made contact with her pussy.

you lick her slit, going down then up to her clit again and start flicking your tongue on it at a pace that's not too fast, but fast enough to make her throw her head back. she takes ahold of your hair and grips it slightly and whimpering your name, letting you know how good you're making her feel. you decide to push your tongue inside her tight velvety walls, and she almost puts you into a headlock with her milky thighs all because it was too sudden. you thrust your tongue into her in and out, constantly hitting her g spot. "ahmm...! ughmnggh... y-you're doing so good, hah! keep goinggghhngg..", she manages to blurt out weakly, mindlessly grinding her hips to meet your tongue, you can tell she was close from the way her moans started sounding more louder, the grip on your hair tightened and her walls started spasming a lot more than earlier. but you only ended up pulling your tongue out last minute and you were greeted with a disappointed whine. "why did you do that?", she looks at you, face so fucked out, but she's still a little angry even in a state like this.

you smirked at her, and went back down to kiss her clit and flick your tongue on it. she went back to moaning and whimpering, but what she didn't expect is you shoving a finger inside her and slowly thrusting it in and out, receiving a choked moan from her. you added another finger inside, and curled them. chelsea lets out a loud cry and her breathing starts getting more ragged and unstable, her thighs starting to shake uncontrollably. "ah! mmpleaseeee pleasepleasepleaseplease— fasterrrrhngmnhhh...", and the constant chanting of your name was all you could hear until she started squirting all over, onto your face and to the floor. at this point, the countertop was dripping wet with her juices, and it's slippery. one wrong move, she could accidentally fall down and injure herself. you wait for her to calm down from her high, getting up and holding her by the waist to stable her.

leaning into her neck and giving her kisses, relishing in the her rose scented perfume, mixed along with the smell of sweat and sex. she snakes her hand up to your neck, and kisses you, soft and chaste. pulling back, she could only say "i didn't know you were skilled like that... you really did good, cutie ♡", and you give her a promising smile, one that made her heart flutter and look at you with hearts in her eyes.

© 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸𝘀 𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗯𝘆 𝗲𝗲𝘂𝗹𝘆𝘀𝗶𝗮𝗻. 𝗽𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗮𝗹, 𝗿𝗲𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝗼𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗼𝘀𝘁.

another a/n: finally i'm done!! one of my longest fics yet... let me know if i made any mistakes or my writing was too long, sloppy or rushed. once again it's my first time making smut, sorry if i disappointed you! :( i'll do better next time ❤

[ariundercovers]

Roundabout (When Paths Cross, Pt III - Javier Peña x Reader)

Pairing: Javier Peña x Afab!Reader (No use of y/n!)

Length: ~2.8k words

Series Summary: Chucho's been like a father figure to you since he helped you out of a sticky situation on your second day in Laredo. What happens when you finally meet his son, the former-DEA agent, who just happens to ignite you in a way that you haven't felt before?

Chapter Summary: The next Sunday. Fluff, flan, and the great beyond.

Chapter Warnings: its all fluff anf plot, no porn this time, Javi being a needy demon, spanish nicknames, idk what else its honestly pretty chill

If you're so inclined, please drop a like and a reply/reblog! I live for your feeback, and it keeps me going and keeps me writing. Did you like it? love it? hate it? I want to hear all of your thoughts!

PREVIOUS PART (II) HERE

Javi does, in fact, meet you for lunch that week. Twice. And then dinner on Friday. He’s a perfect gentleman, picking you up from your apartment and driving you to the restaurant. He holds every door for you, makes sure you’re seated first, tells you he’s paying and that he wants you to order anything on the menu you’d like. 

Normally, you’d take that kind of chivalry as a bit of an offense - some kind of lingering patriarchal worldview that you’d have absolutely no interest in - and yet, with Javi, you’re not opposed. In fact, you find that you genuinely enjoy it. Something about that shocks you even more than the way you jumped into his bed that first evening did, and even more than the warmth that blooms in your chest when he presses your knuckles to his lips. There’s just something about him, you think. Something you can’t quite put your finger on, but you already feel like you can’t live without.

Okay. It’s been a week. Get it together.

It feels like you’re in high school all over again, falling head over heels for anyone who showed an interest in you, no matter how bad they ended up being for you, or how much they annoyed you at first. 

Yeah. You’re falling. Hard. 

Fuck.

You’re getting ready to head over to Chucho’s for another Sunday meal when your phone rings. Picking it up, a beautiful baritone voice speaks into your ear that makes your knees a bit weak and a warmth bloom in your chest.

“Hola, Muñeca.” You sigh, like a lovestruck teenager, and move to sit down at the little armchair you keep in the corner of your room.

“Javier.” You can practically hear his smirk from the other side of the phone line, your own face graced with one to match.

“You’re coming tonight, right?”

“Like I always do, every Sunday. Unless… you don’t want me to?” You’re suddenly struck with a pang of worry in your gut, fear that perhaps things were moving too fast, that you’ve assumed some kind of exclusivity that the two of you have never discussed. You hadn’t stopped to think about what this might do to alter your standing weekly dinners at the Peña ranch. Javi chuckles in your ear and you settle immediately, reassured in an instant.

“No, darlin’, of course I want you to be there. I just thought I’d ask if you want to stay again? Maybe with a bit more planning this time? Doesn’t have to be with me, if you don’t want. We’ve still got the guest bedroom made up.” You smile and sigh, once again affronted by this gentlemanly way he has about him. Somehow, it’s not what you were expecting from a man like him. You were expecting something gruffer, with unfinished edges. Something more… machismo, really. He throws you for a loop at every corner.

“Yeah, of course. I’d love to. Any excuse not to come back to my empty apartment is a more than welcome one.” You can hear a little chuckle come through the receiver and then a heavy breath.

“Good. Can I come pick you up?”

You scoff and respond quickly. “I can drive myself, Javi. You don’t need to go out of your way for me like that.”

“It’s not out of my way if it means I get to spend more time with you, muñeca.” Sighing, you stand, pinching the phone between your cheek and shoulder as you start to pull out whatever clothes and items you’ll need for an overnight stay.

“Really, Javi. I’m alright. But I appreciate the offer. I’ll see you soon, okay? I’ll be out of the house in like… half an hour, I think.” 

He sighs lightly in the background but his words are laced with a touch of disappointment when he answers. “Hope you’re bringing some more of those pastelillos. Pops and I ate them all in less than 24 hours.”

“Ha! Of course you did. No pastelillos but something just as yummy, in my opinion.”

“Good. See you soon, then.” You pause your motions and smile softly to yourself, holding the phone once again.

“Yeah, See you soon. Bye, Javi.”

“Adios, muñeca.”

The receiver clicks off and you put down your phone, sighing dreamily as if you just stepped into a romance novel. He so successfully melted you by doing so little… it should really be more concerning to you, you think. 

Hastily, you pack up your bag and head to the kitchen where your homemade flan is cooling in the fridge. Pulling it out, you flip it onto the dish and scoop out the remaining caramel, grabbing up a can of dulce de leche and stuffing it in your bag before wrapping up the flan carefully and tightly. You flit around the house for a few minutes, tidying things up and making sure everything was in its place, lights were off, and cleaning up the few dishes lingering in the kitchen sink properly.

Taking a moment to visually scan the apartment, you open the door, hands very full, and shut it behind you before deadbolting it shut.

~ ~ ~ 

With the way your mind has you lost on some daydreaming tangent that is no doubt Javier-infused, it's no surprise that it feels like you blink and suddenly you’re standing in front of Chucho’s front door. You still blink back at it for a while before raising your hand to knock and being greeted by the old man, himself.

“Mija, I’m so glad you made it. Oh, here - let me take something, yes?” He takes the flan out of your hands and heads into the kitchen with it as you let yourself into the house, closing the door behind you. “Javi’s just finishing up a few chores around the ranch. He’ll be back in soon, I’m sure.”

You smile at Chucho and take a seat at the dining table as he brings you over a glass of water, taking the chair next to you. “Okay. No problem. You know he’s not the only thing I came here to see, right?” Chucho shrugs, a smirk on his face as he leans over and squeezes one of your hands with his own.

“Well… given the way he’s been moving around the house over the course of the week, I think I might’ve been knocked out of first place already.” You can feel the heat rising to your cheeks again, looking down into your glass in slight embarrassment before he quickly continues. “I don’t mean to make you feel embarrassed about it, mija. I’m glad, actually. He’s been so much less mopey. Much more pleasant to be around.”

“You noticed that in a week?” You’re shocked, to say the least, thrown a bit by Chucho’s admission. You knew how much you felt for Javi already, but you were surprised to hear he might be feeling similarly, to put it lightly.

“I did. Doesn’t take very long when it’s the right person.” The warmth in your cheeks spreads and you look back down before he squeezes your hand once again. “Mija… look at me, please.”  You do as he asks, looking up at him with wide eyes. “I want you to be careful. He went through a lot down there. I won’t pretend to know the extent of it, but… I don’t want to see you hurt, either. Just… just be careful. Okay?” 

Your brows scrunch together slightly and you nod, somber, but agreeing. “I will. I promise, Chucho.”

Naturally, it’s then that you hear the front door open and you turn in your chair to see one sweaty Javier Peña in his tight jeans and a pair of muddy cowboy boots, yanking them off and throwing them on the porch before he steps inside. He smiles at you immediately.

“Muñeca. Pops. ‘M gonna go shower. Be back out in no time.”  He squeezes your shoulder on his way to his room and your eyes follow him down the hallway as Chucho speaks up to you again.

“You’re good for him, mija. I just hope he’s good for you, too.”

~ ~ ~ 

Dinner goes by relatively uneventfully. You spend some time recounting your weeks - Chucho talks about the ranch and the problematic bull he’s been fighting for some time now, Javi talks about some of the things he’s been tinkering with on the property, especially the fences he’s been fixing up. You give them the low-down on what work’s been like over the last week and you can tell that they both listen very intently, even if they’re not up to date on museum lingo. You do your best to explain as needed.

When you’ve all finished, Javi gathers up the plates and you follow him into the kitchen, reaching into the fridge for your very precious flan. As you’re reaching forward, fingertips just grazing the plate, suddenly there are a pair of arms wrapped around your midsection and a set of lips attached to your neck. Your body shivers involuntarily and you squeak, surprised. 

“Javi!” You almost shout, just barely holding it back into a whisper in time. “You could’ve made me drop the whole thing!” He chuckles in your ear and presses a kiss behind it. His voice is sultry, hushed whispers in your ear as he speaks.

“But I didn’t. Been waiting to get my hands on you all night, muñeca. Making me wait a whole week has been like a living nightmare.” You chuckle at his words and press back into his embrace as his lips drop to the junction of your shoulder and neck. 

“Well you’ve gotta wait a little more, Javier. I am not risking Chucho turning over his shoulder and seeing anything.” You push him off of you and turn around to a dejected look on his face, like a kicked puppy dog. You roll your eyes at him and reach up to press a kiss on his cheek. “You’ll survive, I promise. Couple hours, tops.” He sighs back at you but acquiesces, holding his hands up in mock surrender.

“Yes, yes, whatever you say, muñeca.”

You walk the flan back out to the dining area, setting it on the table as Javi follows behind with a set of plates, forks, and serving implements. You dole out a portion to each of you and sit down with a hesitant smile, waiting to see what they think of it. Chucho’s face lights up with the first bite, a smile on his lips that warms your heart.

“This tastes much like my wife’s did, mija. It’s wonderful.” 

You stop, tilting your head slightly at him as you study his expression closely. He’s never really talked about his wife before, at least not with any substance. You don’t know much about her, but you can certainly tell how much he loved her by the glimmer in his eyes at his admission.

“I’m glad you like it, Chucho. It’s always been one of my favorites.” Javi studies Chucho’s face similarly critically, and you think for a moment that you can see a twinkle in his eye that matches Chucho’s. If it didn’t feel overly intrusive, you’d consider asking them about her. You’d truly love to know, but it feels wrong. Like you’re sitting in on a moment that was never meant for you. You hold yourself, promising that you’ll bring it up sometime on a later date. Now isn’t the time.

Chucho eventually goes for seconds, as does Javi, and then you spend a few moments cleaning up from dessert. You’re standing at the kitchen sink, washing dishes with care, when Chucho comes up to you and rests a hand on your shoulder. 

“Mija, you know you don’t have to do those.”

“You tell me every time, Chucho. I always do them. It’s my pleasure.” He smiles at you and gives your shoulder a light squeeze.

“Alright. Well, I’m off to bed. This old man is tired, and I think the two of you could use some time without me lingering.” You stop, turning to him.

“You don’t have to do that. We’re fine. I’ve seen Javi, oh… four other times this week?” You laugh, but he just smiles back at you and nods.

“I know. Still. I’m off to bed.”  He leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead before he’s walking in the opposite direction toward the master bedroom. You shake your head in slight disbelief and turn back to the dishes.

A few minutes later, Javi is pulling up beside you with a rag, taking each dish from your hands and drying it before putting it away. Between the two of you, you get through it all rather quickly and in no time at all you’re drying your hands and turning around to Javi’s arms caging you in against the countertop edge. Your eyes go wide and you take in a sharp breath, suppressing what could have easily been a squeak, but you manage to keep it down.

“Hi,” You say, like a doofus.

“Hi.” Javi responds.

His smile grows impossibly wider then, as he shifts further into your space, wrapping your lips up with his own. You hum into the kiss automatically, hands lifting to find his hips and then the center of his lower back.

“Has it really only been a week?” He asks in between kisses. You sigh, closing your eyes softly as he works his mouth down the side of your neck. It feels like heaven on your skin.

“Yeah. Just a week. Feels like it's been ages longer than that, though.”

Javi pauses and chuckles for a moment. “Oh, good. It’s not just me, then?” You laugh lightly at him in response and lift your hands to either side of his face, pulling his face up to look him in the eyes.

“Definitely not.” He swoops in then to kiss you once again, a warmth blooming in your abdomen that feels like it's been settled there all week long. You do not understand how you’re falling so hard, so quickly, for this man. It’s unnerving.

Suddenly your world feels upside down for a moment as he leans down, picks you up to set you on the counter, and presses his body further into yours as his hips come forward to meet the edge of the countertop. His lips never leave yours, keeping you firmly connected to him as he moves you. You wrap your thighs around his hips, pressing your chest tightly into his, and you melt into the kiss. 

It’s impossible not to.

When he pulls away, he has a starry look in his eyes that melts your heart into an even bigger puddle than it already is. One finger pushes a piece of your hair to the side, away from your face, and he offers you that big, dumb, lopsided grin of his.

“Before we get too carried away, there’s something I want to show you.”

You smile curiously at him and answer, “Oh, yeah?” 

He nods and sets you down off of the counter for just a moment before he’s grabbing your hand and leading you toward the backdoor. Pulling you onto the porch before he shuts the door behind you both, he takes a seat on a small bench near the grill and pulls you into his lap, angling you so you can look up towards the sky.

“You probably don’t get this kind of view in the northeast, I don’t think. It’s one of the best things about Laredo.” You don’t really know what he’s talking about at first until you really take a moment to take in your surroundings. In front of you is the most brilliant sky - the night is clear, with no clouds to obstruct your vision, and you can make out every tiny pinpoint of light in the distance as you look out over the river into the endless sea of stars above you.

“Javi… this is- oh wow.” You’re in awe of it - you’ve never seen so many stars, taking up so much of the sky above you. You’ve never had the pleasure of looking out into the great expanse of the universe like this. It makes you feel infinitesimally small, almost meaningless, but then Javi’s arms wrapped tightly around your waist ground you back to him, back to this moment. Back to everything you’re feeling for him all at once.

The two of you sit there just like that for a very long while, wrapped up in the embrace and in the vision above you. You actually see a shooting star cross nearly from one side of your peripheral vision to the other, lacinand you lace your fingers into his, squeezing tightly as his other hand rubs soft circles into your thigh.

“What do you think, muñeca? Think you can see yourself staying in Laredo for a while?” You smile at his question and lean back into him a bit further.

“Yeah, I think I can.”

~ ~ ~

a/n - next part should be out sooner than this one! Already working on it! love yall so much.

NEXT PART (IV) HERE

[twst-hottest-takes]

I have a hot take. I don't think Azul should be insecure about his weight. I do understand that some people are insecure about it (me being one of them), but imo it doesn't bring anything to his character.

Spoilers for book 3, book 4, and the Halloween event:

In book 3, Azul overblots because he was bullied for being overweight, and the only way he feels he can have any control in life is to make deals with others and use his magic. So when Leona destroys his contracts, it's pretty obvious Azul's losing his mind. However, Azul's weight, insecurities, and even the soft side he has doesn't really shine through.

I mean in book 4 after all of that was "resolved" he's the same person he was in book 3. He's a cunning business man, who wants the best deal possible so he can be on top. We even see this through the rest of the books.

If someone skipped book 3, they literally wouldn't have missed anything. Unless they were to play the Halloween event in which this happens:

I'm sorry if some of them are too small. If you go to the end of the first Halloween event, and click on chapter 8 (I think it's called "He'll Be All Right"), you should be able to find it.

In conclusion, though, I think Azul should have overblotted for a different reason. Like maybe he wanted to be a shady business person like his mom, and destroying his contracts means all his time and effort were wasted. Idk literally anything other than he was bullied for being fat, and he's insecure about it.

There is a reason I put Azul at the bottom of the Overblot ranking.

Forgive me though, I am going to have to push back on this one a bit, but trust the process!

Note: If this element of the character (Azul having been chubby/fat as a kid) is simply a narrative note that doesn't hit for you, there's not a problem with that and you can go about your day. You just really got me thinking and now I have to ramble out some details!

Azul wasn't just picked on for his weight. He was otherized for being an octopus as opposed to the more conventional fish-folk, and his issues with his body image reflect that. He was treated as stupid and slow and weird because he couldn't do things like all the other kids because of how his body worked. As a result, he decided to hone his magic to take advantage of others' weaknesses and distance himself from that image of his past to prove he wasn't what they said he was.

Azul Overblotted after losing the contracts because they represented (literally and metaphorically) the power and control he had over others' strengths and weaknesses. Losing that control and being overwhelmed by the fear of returning to the version of himself that was most vulnerable is why he overblotted. The connection is made clearer still when you take into account that he avoids returning to his merman form as much as possible because it is that much closer to the version of himself he can't stand the most. Likewise, he would be trying to avoid weight gain because that was a part of that version as well.

Azul's schtick was erasing the past and I think his body conscious tendencies inform his character very well.

IN CHAPTER 3!

Like a lot of things in Twisted Wonderland, Azul being body conscious is something that gets left to the wayside for pretty much the rest of the game. Unless you are an Azul fan who collects all of his cards and reads all of his vignettes you wouldn't see the other subtle nods to it like this:

Azul's Birthday Card Year 1: Screen transition line 3. (Azul justifies being able to be self-indulgent with food on his birthday.)

So in summary, I DO think that Azul's weight insecurity adds to his character and informs on the person he is in the current story. However, it has to be taken into account that it's just one small bit to a much larger and more important piece to his character. If you take it on its own, it doesn't have the kind of impact an overblot reason should, and they don't call back to it enough to remind you why it's actually important.

(There's me trying to set the record straight for maybe an oversimplified view on Azul, but I maintain his position on the ranking.)

Thank you for your take!