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friendly-neighborhood-boricua · 8 months

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Squint And You'll See It

Summary: Sirius and his potions partner are trying to brew Polyjuice Potion for class, and he can't seem to figure out why she won't wear her glasses.

Notes: Sirius Black x shy!reader. All fluff, really. This is the most self-indulgent thing I've ever written. I'm weirdly self-conscious about the sounds I make, how loud they are, if they could annoy/distract people, etc. so I wrote this just to comfort myself about it lol. I ended up using Y/N a bunch because using too many pronouns in a row makes my brain bristle so oh well. Still though, this is the sweetest thing I think I've ever written. Enjoy! <3

Y/N squinted up at the blackboard as Slughorn collected the class’s attention once again, and Sirius just about melted. The all-too-familiar scrunch in her nose and the crease between her brows gave him more comfort than he probably should have taken from her struggles to see the properties of Chinese Chomping Cabbage from so far back in the classroom. After an especially rapid flurry of blinking, she scribbled a couple notes on her parchment before fisting her knuckles in her eyes tiredly.

Sirius nudged her gently. As if it wasn’t already, the honey-doe eyes she gave him had his heart overflowing with a plush fondness.

“Your glasses, love,” he whispered, nodding to her book bag, which hung off of the back of her chair. Y/N looked at it, then blinked twice. The glasses were a new and quite helpful development—one she hadn’t quite gotten into the habit of using yet. She eyed the bag again.

“I’m alright,” she whispered back and returned to her notes.

Sirius frowned. “You sure?”

She nodded, giving him a light smile.

Sirius frowned slightly but returned to his notes when Slughorn chided him for having his eyes elsewhere. But how could he be blamed? Only a madman would rather learn about ingredients than watch her.

For a surprisingly long while, Sirius managed to stay focused on his notes, sometimes copying Remus’s, who sat on his right side, and only occasionally sneaking glances at Y/N, who sat on his left. After what felt like an eternity, Slughorn finally let the pair work on their Polyjuice Potion at a work table in the far back of the classroom. Sirius had come down with a nasty case of spattergroit several weeks previous and missed a week and a half of the brewing process. Unfortunately, Y/N had missed several days herself due to a family matter (now resolved with nothing to worry about, she had assured Sirius countless times), ending in the complete devastation of their original Polyjuice batch. And so, Y/N, unwilling to take a bad mark, and Sirius, ready to do just about anything to keep spending time with her, decided to make another batch.

“Do you want to gather the ingredients or shall I?” she asked as Sirius scooted his stool closer to hers (to better reach the cauldron, of course).

“I can get the ingredients,” he said, flashing what he hoped was his most charming smile, and she blushed.

“Alright, I’ll, erm … I’ll work out our next instructions …” Sirius nodded as Y/N fell into her reading, smiling to himself as her brows furrowed once again to scan the page.

Sirius skirted the classroom towards ingredient shelves, passing by James, Peter, and Remus, who all raised their brows at him with smirks. He simply rolled his eyes, rummaging through the shelves until he had gathered the correct ingredients. But when he turned around, ready to make his way back to Y/N and their Polyjuice Potion, he was met with a horrible sight: Remus, holding a tight-lipped frown in a near-futile attempt to ward off a smile, Peter, doubled over with laughing cramps, and James, turned around in his chair and arms wrapped around himself, raking them up and down his back in a sultry fashion as he pretended to make out with someone.

With a peeved sigh, Sirius chucked a bundle of knotgrass at James, seed pods bursting and small nettle-like seeds clinging to James's hair. Of course, the three burst into peals of raucous laughter. Sirius groaned, and quickly made his way back to the back work table as Slughorn chastised the rest of them.

“Sirius, are you alright? You’re looking a bit … erm, warm.”

Sirius’s ears burned even hotter, and his eyes flew to examine the grout between the floor tiles.

“Yeah, yeah, ‘m perfect, lovie.” He set down his armful of glass jars and clay bowls, trying desperately to change the subject. “Found what we’ve got to do yet?”

“Mhm,” she hummed. “Just here, it says we must add three bits of boomslang skin—”

“Got that here.”

“—crush the bicorn horn and add that—”

“Got that as well.”

“—and then there are some cooking instructions, but we can cross that bridge when we come to it.”

“Sounds good to me, love.” Sirius smiled warmly.

The two worked in harmony, Y/N checking and double-checking that she was measuring everything correctly and Sirius adding the ingredients once she had prepared them. The two worked in sweet, warm peace, managing only one easily-averted disaster, all while keeping quiet as Slughorn continued to teach the rest of the class. There was a strange sort of domesticity to it that made Sirius’s heart skip beats, and he imagined himself with Y/N in their future home, huddled around a cauldron and brewing something to keep them warm on a Siberian night—

“How long should it be at a high temperature again?” Sirius asked, forcing himself from his daydreaming and adding the crushed bicorn horn.

“Erm …” Y/N’s nose practically brushed the page with how closely she peered at the instructions. With the smallest sound of annoyance Sirius had ever heard, her head moved to allow her eyes to travel along the far wall, where a dozen or so posters displayed recipes for a variety of potions. She sighed lightly, squinting heard and pushing herself on tiptoe (as if it would help).

“Use your glasses, love,” Sirius suggested but was quickly brushed off.

“‘M fine, really,” Y/N murmured, eyes still squinting.

“Sweetheart,” the word caught Y/N’s attention, and she fell back onto her heels, eyes barely meeting Sirius’s before drilling into the bubbling cauldron, “you’ll give yourself a migraine. Use your glasses.” Y/N glanced uneasily from Sirius to her bag on the back of her chair and back. Sirius’s brows furrowed. “What is it, love?”

Y/N shook her head. “Nothing, it’s nothing.”

“Then … wear your glasses,” Sirius reasoned, and she let out a little huff. “Why don’t you want to wear them, lovie?”

“It’s not that I don’t want to wear them, it’s just …” Sirius watched her with soft, almost concerned eyes.

Y/N sighed, pushing herself onto the stool with knees pressed together. The thought was silly, but she had known Sirius long enough to know he wasn’t going to let this go.

“The buckle on the bag, it’s …” Sirius’s knee knocked gently against hers. “It’s loud—it clatters about when I open it. Catches people’s attention. And my glasses are in the bag, so if I open the bag, people will stare, and then people stare at me when I have my glasses on anyway—not that I’m not grateful for the glasses! They’re a great help for seeing the board during cl—”

Sirius couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle, and he almost felt bad at the pout Y/N dealt in return. “First of all, love, people stare at you and your glasses because you look fucking divine when you wear them. I should know.” He brushed her arm playfully with his, and she flushed a brilliant shade of red-pink. “And second, no one thinks anything about your loud bag buckles, I promise.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “I just—I don't want to disrupt them is all …”

Sirius chuckled again, but still, Y/N didn't make a move for her bag. It took only a moment and a half of contemplation before Sirius burst into the most fake-sounding fit of coughs ever created in the history of this Earth. Nearly the entire class turned to stare at him as he seemingly hacked up a lung, and he hung himself dramatically off of the table’s edge to play it up just that little bit more.

“Mr. Black, are you quite alright?” Professor Slughorn asked, eyes slightly wide with concern.

“Y-yes, Pro—” Sirius coughed a dozen more times, discretely winking at Y/N, who seemed to get the point and quietly retrieved her glasses from her bag. Not a soul noticed.

#sirius black x you #sirius x y/n #sirius x you #marauders era #sirius black fluff #sirius x reader #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x reader #sirius black x shy!reader #sirius fluff

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yuutasdream · 1 month

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how would yuuta be when he realizes hes fallen in love with u ⁉️⁉️

: ̗̀➛𝕬𝖒 𝕴 𝕱𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖎𝖓 𝕷𝖔𝖛𝖊 ꨄ︎

Yuta and you started off as friends, your bond growing stronger with each passing day. You shared laughs, inside jokes, and countless memories, forming a connection that felt unbreakable. Yet, you couldn't shake off the growing feelings you had for Yuta.

One day, unable to contain your emotions any longer, you mustered up the courage to confess your feelings to Yuta. Heart pounding, palms sweating, you poured your heart out, laying bare the depth of your affection. "Yuta, I... I have something to tell you," you stammered, trying to find the right words. "I've developed feelings for you. I really care about you, more than just as a friend." you held out a chocolate as a gesture to show appreciation.

Yuta's expression softened as he listened, his eyes reflecting surprise and perhaps a hint of uncertainty. "I... I appreciate your honesty," he replied, his voice gentle yet conflicted. "But I need some time to think about this. I value our friendship so much, and I don't want to do anything to ruin it."

With those words, Yuta's response hung in the air, leaving you with a mix of hope and trepidation. Though his rejection stung, you respected his need for time to process his feelings. “also... I'm leaving the next week..” yuta noted adding salt on the scar. “oh it's okay... Have fun at your trip” you both parted away each one on his own.

Yet even after all or that yuta kept in touch with you even after what happened not wanting to make things awkward nor break the friendship he loved the most. The friendship between you and him.

As Yuta continued his journey, he couldn't shake off the growing feeling of emptiness without you by his side. He missed the jokes and your vibes. The picturesque landscapes and exciting adventures seemed to lose their luster in your absence. Each passing day felt like a struggle, a constant reminder of how much he longed to share these moments with you.

Then came the fateful day when he received the message from his best friend toge telling him about your broken phone. It hit him like a wave, leaving him feeling stranded and disconnected. Suddenly, the simple act of hearing your voice or seeing your messages became a distant dream, leaving a void in his heart that nothing else could fill.

Days turned into nights filled with restless thoughts of you, of the conversations he could have had, the jokes you could have shared. It was in those moments of solitude that Yuta realized just how much you meant to him, how your presence had become an important part of his life.

Unable to bear the separation any longer, Yuta made a spontaneous decision to cut his trip short and return back to jujutsu high. The place he knew that he'll find you there. The journey back felt like an eternity, each passing mile fueling his determination to see you again.

Arriving at your dorm's door unexpectedly, his heart pounded with a mix of nerves and excitement. When you opened the door, surprise etched across your face, Yuta's breath caught in his throat. But as he looked into your eyes, all his fears melted away, replaced by a sense of purpose.

"I missed you," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper, yet filled with raw emotion. “miss me..? It's been only a couple of days” you said flattered not knowing how to express your feelings looking at all of the souvenirs he got you to express his love.

You welcomed him inside, and as you sat together, Yuta poured his heart out. "Being away from you made me realize how much you mean to me," he admitted, his gaze never wavering from yours. "I can't imagine my life without you, and I just had to come back and tell you... I love you." the way the words poured out of his mouth you were still in shock.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you listened to his heartfelt words, feeling the weight of his love enveloping you. "I love you too, Yuta," you whispered, a smile breaking through the tears wrapping your arms around him. You were really happy that he finally realized his feelings and got certain about it. “next time I promise to book you a flight with me..” he said giggling, “I want nothing to break us apart”

In that moment, surrounded by the warmth of your embrace, Yuta knew that no distance or obstacle could ever diminish the love he felt for you. And as he held you close, he knew that home wasn't a place—it was wherever you were, in your arms.

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foone · 19 days

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weird thought: I think if I was a teenager now (or anytime in the last decade or so) I think I would have written (and read!) a lot more fanfic than I did in reality, where I was a teenager in the 90s.

See, I've never been hugely into fanfic. Never had anything against it exactly, but it just wasn't something I was into. But I think that has to do with an interesting combination of how my brain works and what time I was first really getting into being a fan.

I've got a "librarian" brain (I'm literally typing this from within a library, WHERE I WORK). It wants to know things like "what are all the works in this series/by this creator?" and "are they all accessible?" and "what info is available about how it was made?"

I'm the kind of person who will watch a show then go look it up on wikipedia to see how many seasons it has, who made it, if they're still making it, check tvtropes for any more info, etc. Or I hear a song I like by a band I've never heard of, so I go listen to their entire discography while researching them. I just focus on things I'm into that way, you know? I don't half-ass my interest. (this is probably related to my autism, of course)

So what does this have to do with fanfic? like, do I go read some fanfics as part of this process? No, and I think the reason for it is when I specifically first got into fandom, as a teen.

See, this sort of fandom-librarian was harder to do in 1997, you know? You couldn't just pull up the wikipedia for that new show and see how many episodes it had. You also couldn't just listen to the whole discography of that band! Forget Spotify or Google Music, even Napster didn't exist yet.

So my interest in fandom focused a lot more on very basic questions: How many episodes/albums/books/whatever are there? Where can I see/hear them all? Like, I remember getting excited because I found some fan magazine that had a list of all the Star Trek: The Next Generation episodes. Just a list! Not even descriptions or anything. I finally could take that list and see how many I'd seen, so I'd know when I saw them all in late-night reruns.

So I'm focusing on these very basic parts of being a fandom-librarian and I stumble across some fanfic. I'm like "oh, is this a transcript of an episode I haven't seen yet?" and I realize it's not, it's a story written by a fan, and I get a knee-jerk reaction of "that's not helpful to my quest to know and find all the episodes". It's like I am on a quest for the holy grail and I found a fake cup. It's not helpful to me, and at worst it's a distraction from my goal.

And the thing is, I think the fact I had that reaction is entirely due to the time and situation in which I first encountered fanfic. It was in that environment of "I can't even find a list of the episodes, let alone a way to watch them all!" and that anxiety that colored my response to finding fanfic.

I think if I instead was first introduced to fanfic NOW, where those fandom-librarian drives aren't so difficult to fulfill, I'd be way more positive about fanfic. If I could get a list of episodes with a quick google search, and watch them easily on netflix/prime/whatever, I'd be less "THIS DOESN'T HELP! I AM STRUGGLING WITH THE BASICS HERE!" and more "yay, more content for the fandom I'm obsessed with!"

Like I said, I'm not anti-fanfic, I never have been, I just never got into it. From the beginning I had this reaction that was "this is not useful" and I never developed any real interest in it. Which is a shame, honestly. Fanfic is great. It just never became one of my interests, and while I've written it and read it from time to time, I imagine I'd be way more into it if I didn't have the weird reaction to it due to the worries of the time in which I first encountered it.

I don't know how many other people have brains that work anything like mine, but if they exist, I'm glad they're now growing up in a world where they won't have these problems. They can get into fanfic without this weird baggage caused by a lack of information.

#fanfic meta

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artificial-transmutations · 10 months

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Transformation Letter: Charlie

Hi my name is Charlie, I would like to be transformed into any man you want. But not an object please. I am 26 yo, 170cm tall with a slim twink body. I have white skin, blue eyes and short dark hair.

You hesitate slowly before putting the envelope into the box. It is not that you are unhappy with who you are, but somehow, the thought of becoming someone else is oddly interesting to you. With a silent thud, the letter falls into the box - it's done now, and you can't retrieve it.

The shady online ad had promised that changing your body was not only possible, but really easy to do, too. All you had to do was write a letter to the company and they would care for the rest. To be honest, you don't really believe in all that. It was scientifically unlikely that anyone had developed a technology to change bodies - let alone at a distance knowing nothing more than your name. But still, you had been curious enough to try it.

So, you composed a lengthy letter, describing exactly who you are and what you want changed. That you are happy with your slim build but would like to change certain details. For example, your dark hair could be a bit more interesting. And your butt could be a bit juicier. Oh, and if they shaved one or two years off, leaving you at 22 again, that would certainly not hurt.

It's not like you are old, not even having hit 30 yet, but the gay community was somewhat superficial - picking up guys had been easier a few years ago.

You even attached a picture to your letter showing how you look right now.

What you didn't do though, is read the description of the ad thoroughly. Instead of monetary compensation, they reserved the right to choose your transformation. All the details you worked out for your change will ultimately be in vain - and you are entirely at the mercy of a faceless internet company, having unknowingly sealed a contract that grants them all rights on your physical appearance.

Of course, you know nothing of that. After having put in the letter, you head back home and fix yourself a salad before heading to bed early.

Over the course of the next few days, absolutely nothing happens and soon, you have already forgotten the strange ad and the letter you sent. You continue to live your life without knowing your letter has been dispatched, delivered and processed at its destination. Until, a good week later, suddenly, your face feels itchy. Thinking nothing you scratch at the itchy spot, but the itching returns a few moments later.

When you touch your chin again to scratch it again, your hands meet an unfamiliar feeling. There are short, bristly hairs on your chin! But that's impossible! You never grow a beard, and you distinctively remember being entirely smooth this morning. You quickly rush to the bathroom to have a look in the mirror and almost can't believe your eyes:

There is a clearly visible five o' clock shadow in your face, looking alien and ill-fitting. But it's definitely there. When you touch the short hairs again, you can feel the short hairs bend slightly to your touch. They are dark and clearly visible against your skin. This is definitely *your* stubble! You are growing a beard!

Suddenly, you remember the letter. But that can't be, can it? You certainly didn't wish for a beard! Perhaps this is some kind of side-effect?

You have a closer look at your face, searching for further changes. You notice a dirty spot on your cheek.

Has this been there a minute ago? You try to rub it off but only manage to smear it across your face. You try again, this time with water, but as you look up, you find the dark smear having spread all over your face. Even worse, when you try to wash it off, only some of it comes off. The rest of the dark muddy dirt seems to have seeped into your skin and has made it darker than before, like a tan.

You can even watch the tan spreading in the mirror. Going down your quite hairy chin onto your neck and disappearing into your shirt at the collarbone.

Quickly, you try to wriggle out of your shirt, only to find that surprisingly difficult. When you finally manage to do so, you understand why at once: Your body has bulked up considerably! Your torso that has darkened with the spreading tan and is also covered with stubbly dark hair is way more muscular than before. Your shoulders are broader, and your entire frame is... bulky to say the least. There is not much left from your original slim and twinky body. By the second, you're becoming buffer and darker. When you look back into the mirror, your face reminds you nothing of what it was! It even appears as if you have actually gained a few years, putting you at least past the mark of 30.

This is impossible! You have to stop that. You need to call the company right now!

With that thought, you rush to your laptop and try to remember the company name. Artificial something was it, right? Transformation? No, wait. Transmutation. That's it. You start entering the company name into the search engine but find it increasingly difficult to do so. You do know how to type, of course, but your hands are getting bigger and less precise. When you finally hit enter, the search engine lists the results.

Or, at least you think it does. You blink once, squint your eyes and blink again. You can clearly read the letters on the screen, but the composition makes no sense at all. It's like trying to read an entirely different language. But that can't be! English is your mother tongue, you should be able to read it clearly. Instead, you only recognize very few simple words. "and" for example, or "I".

It's no use. You have lost the ability to read English. But certainly, you can read another language? You try not to think about anything as you type a new query in the address bar of the browser.

Well, good news is that you can read the texts again when the site loads. It's clearly Spanish that you have no problem understanding. But instinctively, you have entered a porn site. Gay porn, to be precise - good. At least this hasn't changed.

Just looking at the pictures makes your cock grow in your pants. And grow. And grow. When you look down at your lap, you recognize a massive beast of burden that certainly wasn't there before, either. Curiously, you unzip your pants and are greeted by a large, throbbing, uncut cock, framed by dark curly pubic hair. Of course, in your old body you always shaved your pubic hair neatly. However, here it's ungroomed and a dark contrast to your tanned brown-ish skin. With the cock that has sprung free, you also freed a cloud of musky smell. The manly smell of unwashed groin and sweat, along with traces of piss and precum.

Without thinking, you take a deep breath and then another one. That smells good, you decide, and your throbbing cock agrees. You grab your large cock with your large hand and start a video with your left one.

As you watch the manly figures on the screen fucking each other, your quickly start to move your hand up and down your length, too. A deep, rumbling sound escapes your throat and soon, your heavy balls begin to churn. You are going to cum!

The thought makes your head spin, and you quickly aim your cock at your laptop's screen. Your mind is so overwhelmed with lust, it's not like you can even think anymore. When your first rope of cum lands on the screen, splashing all over the photos, the second shot flies even further and lands in a pool of white semen on the keyboard.

Huffing and panting, you slowly regain clarity. God damnit, you didn't really do *that*, right?

Worse enough that you snuck into your clients home and used his laptop to watch porn, no. Now your sticky cum is slowly running down the screen and dripping under the keys. There's no way you’re able to clean this up properly.

Awkwardly, you use your shirt to wipe over the laptop superficially. Still, there is a clearly visible spot of dried cum on the screen and the keys will be sticky to operate. You briefly consider cleaning the machine with water but don't want to damage it.

It's no use. You just hope your client won't notice until you are gone. On that note, you quickly make your way back into the garden, resuming your work in the heat of the summer, only clad in a short pair of shorts that accentuates your huge Mexican cock.

Gone is Charlie the twink. Your new life is Carlos, the dumb and randy Mexican gardener.

What is this? A "Transformation Letter"? Yes, you heard right! Over at my riot page, you can send transformation letters that will change your life forever. The only catch? You can't choose what you will become. Carlos here is certainly changed a lot, but not like he intended. Would you be luckier if you tried? Head over to the instructions to try your luck!

#TransformationLetter #racial transformation #male transformation #muscle transformation #dumbing down

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writingforstraykids · 6 months

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More than friends

Pairing: Minho x Chan x fem!reader / Minchan x fem!reader

Word Count: 5069

Summary: Having a crush on both Minho and Chan, you hate seeing them stupidly in love and happy. One day, you snap at Chan, hurting Minho in the process. Minho picks you up the next day since you two have a lot to talk about and sets some boundaries...

Tags/Warnings: angst, emotional hurt/comfort, jealousy, friends to lovers, first kiss, fight between reader and chan, minho calls reader kitten, jealous!reader, protective!chan, soft!minho

A/N: Have fun reading 😊~Moon🌙

PART TWO

I can't help but love you Even though I try not to I can't help but want you I know that I'd die without you War of Hearts ~ Ruelle

You've known Chan your whole life, your mothers being best friends and having you only a few months apart. He's been like an older brother to you growing up, and you knew there'd never be a better friend than him. You've been heartbroken when he had to move to Korea to work hard for his dreams but supported him nevertheless. Growing up, you had a crush on him, which only grew as he got older. About a year ago, you went to visit him and got to know his roommate Minho, who happened to be the main dancer of his group. Minho was very polite and fun to be around, and you became friends fast. Going back home, you realized you had also developed a small crush on him. When you visited two months later, Chan very nervously confessed that he was bi, which didn't seem like an issue to you at all until he told you that he had a boyfriend now. Minho.

It broke your heart a little, realizing you wouldn't have a chance with either of them now, especially because you promised Chan to move in for good once you'd moved to Korea. You've spent days crying in your room, trying to be happy for your friends but pitying yourself at the same time. But of course, you moved in with them two months ago, knowing there was no chance you'd be able to afford your own apartment in the beginning. For a while, it went well until you started to get jealous of Minho. He had not only stolen your heart but also your first crush.

Minho sits next to you on the sofa, helping you with your assignments for university since you sometimes still struggle with Korean a little. You like his way of explaining things to you, making sure always to sprinkle in a joke when things get too frustrating. Everything is fine until Chan comes back home from the company, plops down on the sofa, and wraps his arms around Minho, pulling him into a loving kiss. "Missed you," he tells him gently, and Minho smiles sweetly, squeezing his hand.

"Of course you did," he teases lovingly. Chan hums softly, deepening the kiss and brushing back his hair lovingly. "Channie," Minho says softly since you're sitting right next to them.

"Oh please, she's seen almost as much of me as you have," he snorts, kissing him again. You glance at them and feel quite lonely, seeing how soft and caring they are with each other. This is all you ever wanted, with someone like Chan. Or Minho.

"There's dinner in the fridge, love," Minho tells him, pulling back.

"Great, I'm starving," he nods, and Minho laughs.

"Go take a shower, I'll warm it up for you," he says.

Chan's face covers with a beautiful smile. "Aw, you're the best, baby," he smiles. "Isn't he the best, Y/N?" he asks, finally acknowledging your existence.

"Chan," Minho says gently, getting up.

"Sure thing," you shrug, focusing on your laptop. "He's your boyfriend, you kinda have to say that."

Chan frowns at you. "Well, he wouldn't be mine if he wasn't," he tells you.

Mine. Something you had longed for him to call you for years. "So you're saying you'd replace him as soon as something better comes along?" you ask, knowing you are being mean now. You don’t dare to look at Minho but notice how he has stopped moving in the kitchen.

"That's not - Min, that's not what I said," Chan protests.

"Don't pull me into this," Minho laughs halfheartedly, slowly stirring his food.

"Yeah, don't, you can talk for yourself. You don't need your perfect boyfriend to do that for you as well, do you?" you ask, and Chan's jaw drops.

Minho bites back a sigh, closing his eyes for a moment. He knows what's going on; he knew from the moment he met you. The way you gazed at Chan wasn't how you looked at your best friend. He really likes you, he loves spending time with you…alone. As soon as Chan is there, you act all different, almost seeming jealous. "Chan, love, didn't you want to take a shower?" he asks gently, trying to deescalate the situation subtly.

Chan ignores him. "Why are you being such an ass?" he asks you. "You got enough sleep last night?"

"That was a little hard with you fucking his brains out last night," you give back sourly.

It grows very quiet in the room, and Chan stares at you, stunned. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry," Minho speaks up, and it's the first time you look at him. He looks embarrassed, uncomfortable even. "I told you the walls aren't that thick," he whispers to Chan.

"I wouldn't care, it's your home, after all. You're just not exactly quiet," you say, mentally slapping yourself for that comment. Minho's eyes widen, cheeks flushing red with embarrassment, and the spoon drops from his hand. "But you seemed to have a great time, so I guess that's fine."

Chan takes a look at Minho, who suddenly looks very anxious. And that pisses him off immensely. "Y/N."

"What, Chris?" you ask, switching to English. You know Minho has struggles keeping up with it. "You think I wanted this? You've always talked about us moving in together once I'm done with school."

"Well, I have a boyfriend now, you said you liked him. You said you'd love getting to know him more and move in with us," Chan snaps right back at you, having enough.

"I didn't say I'm okay with watching you make out with him on the sofa. Listening to you having sex next door. Hearing all that disgustingly cute stuff you tell him all day," you give back, and Chan's expression darkens.

"He was here first, idiot. This is his home as much as it is mine, and he was the one telling me you could move in with us," he tells you angrily. "He did nothing but being kind to you, making sure you feel welcomed and have everything you need."

"I seriously don't get it, Chris. You could've had everyone. You're warm and open to everyone. Why would you go for him? I know you think he's perfect, but he doesn't open up to you the way you do. How can you be with someone unable to express their emotions?" you ask, watching him grow pale. You know you're making up shit now, so pissed that Chan and Minho, the only two guys you ever fell in love with, had to fall for each other.

Chan turns to Minho, who is staring at you in pure shock. "She's talking shit, baby," he says worriedly.

Minho swallows hard, tears brimming his eyes, as he puts down the spoon and turns off the stove. "I-I think I'll let you two continue on your own," he says quietly, unable to meet your eyes.

Your heart sinks, realizing he must've understood more than you thought. "Oh god, I'm so sorry," you say timidly.

"Liar," Minho says, grabbing his phone from the sofa. Chan reaches out for him, but he gently shakes him off. "Please don't, this is a conversation I don't want to be part of anymore," he tells him. "Sorry for waking you up, it will probably happen again if you intend to stay here," Minho tells you before leaving without another word.

Chan looks after him, and you two remain silent for a moment. "What the fuck was that?" he asks then.

"I'm sorry," you tell him quietly.

"Something is seriously wrong with you," he says sharply, making you flinch a little. "He's amazing, and if you're too blind to see that, that's your issue. Don't make it mine."

You chew on your lower lip nervously. Yes, Minho is amazing. He is funny, he’s kind, he is incredibly beautiful and caring. That is exactly the issue. "Chan, come on."

"You switched languages to exclude him, how bitchy was that? And you fucking knew he understands, he just struggles with speaking it," he tells you, clearly pissed off. "That's so messed up, I don't even know what to say. I don't want to hear another word from you today, you've crossed a line."

"Fine," you huff and collect your things, quickly going to your room. You throw your things onto your desk and swallow hard. You've been really awful, Minho didn't deserve that. Sighing, you look around the room and groan, seeing all the things Minho had paid for when you came here. One time, Chan was working he had taken you on a shopping spree to make your room more comfortable. On the desk is a picture of the three of you and some of the day you met Minho's cats for the first time. You stare down at his small comments in your book so you won't forget them again when you study on your own. Now you feel like a complete bitch and only want to disappear.

Minho sits at the edge of their bed, staring out of the window. He's nervously picking his skin and chewing his lower lip at the same time. He doesn't turn when Chan steps inside, being able to tell it is him by the way he moves. The mattress dips beneath Chan's weight as he sits down next to him.

"Minho, baby?" he asks softly, and Minho takes his hand, still not looking at him. "You're okay?"

"No," Minho answers quietly. "I know you told me not to believe in those things," he tells him and feels fresh tears brim his eyes. "But why do I keep hearing them as soon as someone wants to hurt me?"

"Minnie," Chan says gently.

"People always go for your weak spots then," he says.

"Your weak spot is how insecure you get when someone talks shit about you, she knows that," he tells him. "It's not that you're cold or unable to open up."

"I thought I was being more open," he says quietly. "Also with her, even though I usually don't when I don't know someone that well. Fuck, Chan, I made her her favorite meal from home because she said she missed it today. Now I feel fucking stupid for doing it," he admits.

"She's being an asshole," he tells him, and Minho laughs weakly, shaking his head.

"She's hurt," he says. "She can't blame you, so she blames me."

"What? What did I do?" he asks confused.

Minho turns to him, a big tear rolling down his cheek. "You fell in love with me, Channie."

Chan stares at him before his eyes widen. "No way."

Minho smiles sadly as Chan cups his face, wiping his tears away. "I know that look. She's heartbroken. I can't blame her for that."

"Even if she is, which is ridiculous, it's not okay to hurt you," he says sourly.

"Love makes us do weird things," he shrugs his shoulders.

"You mean like me tripping down the stairs and landing on your flowers because I got so nervous?" he asks, and Minho laughs.

"Yeah, like that," he smiles gently at that memory.

"Oh, come here, baby," he says softly, pulling him into a tight hug. "No matter what others say, you'll be nothing less than perfect to me."

Minho squeezes him tightly, burying his face in his chest. "She's been your best friend your whole life, I hoped she'd like me." Which wasn't the whole truth. Minho thought about you a lot and started to like you more and more. Sometimes, he even thinks he is starting to fall for you.

Chan doesn't know what to say and kisses his head. "We'll figure this out, okay?" he asks after a moment, and Minho hums gently.

When you finally dare to leave your room again and make your way downstairs, you spot them on the sofa. Minho's sitting on Chan's lap cuddled up in his arms with him. His reddish eyes meet yours as you grab yourself a drink, and you can tell you hurt him. "There's still some left for you," he says suddenly, nodding towards the stove.

"Oh, thank you," you barely get out.

"You need help warming it up?" he asks, knowing you are struggling with the stove still.

You nod timidly, and Chan stares at you as if he wants to tell you that this is Minho's way of showing how much he cares about someone. Not words but actions.

Minho gets up and steps next to you, testing the temperature first. The only sound that can be heard is the TV playing in the background for a moment.

"Min, I'm sorry, I don't know what has gotten into me today," you tell him quietly enough only for him to hear.

Minho sighs softly and glances at you for a moment. "You know exactly what was going on."

"What?" you ask nervously.

"I'm not blind, Y/N. I know you've been in his life much longer than I have, and you've probably cared for him the way I do for a longer time as well," he says gently and grabs a plate for you. "I can't change the fact he told me he loves me… what should I have done? Neglect my own feelings? Hurting him and myself instead by pretending I wasn't in love with him the moment I met him?" he asks and fills your plate for you. "We can't decide who we fall in love with, but we also can't decide who falls in love with us," he tells you, and you'd like to be mad at him, but you can tell he means well. "Don't ruin what you have by being jealous of me," he says with a passionate smile, handing you your plate. "Now stop sulking and sit down, our show's about to start."

You stand still with your plate for a moment until he gently grabs your shoulders and pushes you forward. Chan watches the two of you quietly as his boyfriend makes sure his best friend feels comfortable. He can't believe how kind Minho's heart is sometimes as he also hands you a blanket. Minho climbs back into his lap, intertwining their hands, and relaxes into him. You quietly eat your dinner, paying attention to the screen and trying to ignore the fact that Chan hasn't said a word since you came. "It really tastes just like home," you tell him timidly.

"That's good to hear, kitten," Minho smiles at you shortly, and you feel even more guilty.

There was no way you could hate him. Minho was a literal angel, and you got why Chan fell that hard for him. Minho's naturally beautiful, he's funny, and he's the most caring person you know. The more time you spent together, the more you thought he even outdid your ever-caring Chan with that. You don't know why you chose to say exactly what he had told you his haters say about him. Because you knew he wasn't any of that.

Once the episode ends, Minho gets up and gently ruffles Chan's hair. "Don't stay up too long, you have a busy day tomorrow."

"I'll try," Chan nods and smiles as Minho leans down, cups his face, and kisses him sweetly.

Minho grabs your plate as he passes you by, gently patting your shoulder. "You stay calm tomorrow during your exam, you'll do great."

"Thank you," you say quietly. When you look over at Chan, he's giving you a look that screams "bitch are you serious?". You wait until Minho's upstairs and turn a little. "Can we talk about this?"

"I'm not the one you should talk about that to," he shook his head.

"I hurt you too," you try gently.

"I don't know what was going on, and I don't think I want to," he tells you firmly. "You have to get one thing, Y/N. He's my boyfriend, he means everything to me, and he makes me so damn happy, which you wanted after that shitty training period. I know this might make you feel left out at times, and I'm sorry about that, I really am, but I won't start hiding in my own house."

"I get that," you nod gently.

"I love you, but if you ever talk shit about him like that, you'll get into serious trouble with me," Chan tells you. "Don't think I wouldn't tell him the same if it had been the other way around."

"Okay," you whisper timidly.

Chan searches your eyes for a moment. "Min cares about you so much more than you could even imagine," he tells you. "I wish you could see that." Something that Minho had told him in the beginning was that he was open to the idea of having more than one partner. Chan knew you were Minho's type, and how he cared for you showed him he was probably right about his suspicion of Min developing a crush on you. He couldn’t blame him for that because you were beautiful inside out.

“What?” you ask, confused.

“You’ve been hopelessly romantic for as long as I can remember, but you’re so blind when it’s right in front of your eyes,” he sighs softly and gets up. “I’m gonna get some sleep now, I suggest you fix this with him tomorrow. I’ll kick your ass if you didn’t when I’m back home.”

“Relax,” you sigh softly. “I already tried to apologize.”

“You tried?” he asks, amused.

“Yeah, he… never mind,” you tell him, ignoring his confused expression.

Minho gently blows a strand of hair from his eyes, leaning against his car. He adjusts his sunglasses as someone looks at him suspiciously. He knows the look; people wondering if it’s actually him and debating if they should walk up to him or not. Shoving his hands into his coat pockets, he crosses his legs casually and sighs softly, squinting his eyes as he looks up the facade of the university building.

“What’s so interesting up there?” you ask, turning and looking up as well.

Minho chuckles softly. “Doesn’t it look like rain later?” he asks, looking back at you as you turn, your hair falling down your shoulders as you do. He smiles a little to himself as he takes in the sight of you and eases your bag from your hands. “How was the exam, kitten?” he asks curiously.

You search his eyes, wondering if he was fucking with you. But there’s no anger, no disgust, and not even the hurt that had filled his beautiful brown orbs only yesterday. He seems…genuinely happy to see you. “I think I did alright.”

“Great,” he nods, satisfied.

“What-what are you- I didn’t expect to see you here today,” you finally get out, squinting your eyes at him.

“Why?” he asks calmly.

“I-uhm-I mean-,” you stammer and swallow as he reaches up, brushing back your hair for you.

“This is me being open,” he tells you kindly. “I know I’m not great with words, but Channie always says my actions speak for me, and I started to like that thought. So no, even though you’ve been a complete dick yesterday, I won’t let you take the bus and risk getting soaked.”

“I…I hope you know I didn’t mean what I said yesterday,” you tell him.

“Why did you say it then?” he asks, making you nervous. He searches your eyes for a moment before nodding to himself. “You did want to hurt me. Maybe even get me so far that I'd pick a fight with Chan, saying what a shitty best friend he has, which would lead to him being pissed at me.”

You watch him put your bag in the back of his car and open the door for you. “Minho,” you try gently.

“Get in,” he says firmly, and you comply immediately. He gets in himself, buckles up, and starts the car. "I may seem like it sometimes but believe me, I'm not that easily truly pissed off. So, that backfired," he says, driving onto the road. "What did you expect to happen? That we'd break up, and you'd be there comforting him, and he'd end up falling for you?" he asks, raising his eyebrows at you, almost amused.

"Come on, I wouldn't think of something like that," you snort.

He shrugs his shoulders and focuses back on the road. "I don't know what the fuck you thought. Do you know what two days ago meant for me and Chan?"

"No," you shook your head.

"Two days ago, the night we, unfortunately, kept you up, it's been one and a half years ago that he asked me to be his boyfriend," Minho tells you, and your face falls as you start calculating in your head. "When I got to know you about a year ago, I asked him not to tell you yet because I wanted to get to know you on a neutral basis. In your eyes, I was his roommate, and I think we clicked rather quickly."

You stare at him, tears brimming your eyes. Chan told you seven months into the relationship that Minho was his boyfriend. Seven months. "You're lying. He wouldn't keep that a secret for so long."

Minho glances at you, and compassion laces his features. "He was scared you'd judge him for it at first. Then, after five months, we decided to move in together, and we weren't sure if it would work out once it was only the two of us. Around that time, you visited, and after I told him, he should tell you the next time you visit."

"Five months is a little rushed, don't you think?" you ask, wondering why that was the one thing that came to your mind.

"Let me put it this way, your best friend is incredibly horny, and it got exhausting hiding from our friends all the time," Minho tells you and rolls his eyes to himself. "But yes, it was a little rushed."

You nod slowly before staring at the road ahead stubbornly. "Does he know you're telling me this now? The relationship stuff?"

"No," Minho shakes his head. "We trust each other, he'll be fine with it."

"That's not your decision to make," you frown.

"It's my relationship as much as it is his. You're acting weird towards me, not him, so I can tell you whatever I want, my dear," he says patiently. "You're in love with him?" he asks as he stops at a red light and looks at you.

You swallow hard and close your eyes in defeat. "I've been in love with him for years," you whisper.

"And you never told him?" he asks gently.

"No," you shake your head. "I was too afraid he'd push me away, and I'd ruin our friendship."

"God, you're just like him," Minho groans softly. "When I met him, he couldn't stop talking about that girl he knew back in Australia and how much she meant to him. It was obvious he had a crush on her."

"What?" you ask quietly.

"We got closer, and I fell for him more with every passing day. I tried to tell myself to stop it because I didn't think I'd stand a chance against you," Minho tells you, parking the car in front of the house. He turns the keys and leans back in his seat. "It felt awful having him right there but knowing he wasn't mine and he'd never be. I was starting to give up, but then, one night, he showed up and told me that he developed feelings for a guy to test my reaction. Y/N, when he kissed me, I felt whole again for the first time in ages," he says, and you can tell he's getting emotional. "I love him so much, and I can't imagine a life without him by my side anymore. He's everything I have, and I -," he cuts himself off as he feels tears brimming his eyes. "I know how you feel, okay? I don't want to feel threatened by you. I really don't because then I'll start getting nasty too," he says very quietly. “I’ll fuck you up if you try and destroy what we have, I mean it.”

You swallow hard, trying to process what he has just revealed. Chan had a crush on you when he came to Korea? "Minho, I had no idea," you say gently, placing your hand on his thigh.

"I try not to think of it that way, but I wasn't his first choice, you know. It was you, and when I met you, I knew why," he tells you, blinking back tears. "Stop feeling jealous about that. I should be the one scared to lose Chan in case he decides you're better for him after all. I wouldn't even blame him because you're right. I have trouble opening up because I've been hurt before, but I'm learning because I trust him."

"Hey," you say gently. "Don't you ever believe you're something less than Chan's first choice. He loved you enough to be brave and offer his heart. You should've seen how protective he got yesterday."

Minho presses his lips together tightly before looking at you again. Your breath stops as tears threaten to spill from his eyes, his hands trembling. "You didn't see the hope in his eyes when I told him you're in love with him."

You hesitantly take his hand, and he lets you. "Minnie, I mean it. I've been an asshole and have no right to destroy what you two have. You're perfect for him, and maybe that's what pissed me off so much; I can't find any flaws," you tell him.

"There are a lot," he shakes his head.

"I highly doubt that," you say, and he laughs weakly. "I mean, look at you. You're funny, you're smart, you're so caring and kind. You're an incredible dancer and singer. You have very pretty eyes and-."

"You think I have pretty eyes?" he asks, blushing softly.

"And very kissable-looking lips," you nod. "No wonder he keeps on harassing you with kisses no matter what you do," you say, pulling a genuine laugh from him.

Minho hastily wipes away a single tear falling down his cheek and exhales shakily. "I'm sorry he wasn't brave enough to tell you."

"Don't be," you shake your head.

"You deserve to be loved just as much as he does," he tells you, squeezing your hand tightly. "I'm…I'm okay with sharing, Chan," he says, searching your eyes observantly. "But not with losing him."

You need a moment to get what he means. "You mean you'd be okay if I had a relationship with Chan at the same time as you do?"

Minho nods very slowly. "I have no idea if that's what he wants…but I'll tell him that I won't be in the way if that's something he wants."

"What if that’s not all I want?" you ask, and insecurity flickers in his eyes, which makes you wonder if that's what Chan had meant yesterday. Did Minho care about you that way?

"You mean…," he trails off, sinking into your curious eyes. Did you mean it the way he thinks you did?

"I do think you have very pretty eyes..and kissable lips. I've been thinking about that since the day we met," you admit, and his lips part in surprise. Minho leans in at the same time as you do, and you search each other's eyes for another moment before your lips meet. Fuck, Chan was right, he's an incredible kisser. Minho's hand shoots up, resting on your cheek and pulling you in closer.

Suddenly, he pulls back and stares at you with wide eyes. "Fuck, I shouldn't have - oh god, I'm sorry," he stammers. "I should've talked to him first."

"Minho, calm down," you tell him, but he's already pulling the keys and getting out. "Fuck," you whisper to yourself.

When Chan comes home, Minho's sitting at the kitchen island, bracing his head on his hand. He looks deep in thought, anxious even. "Baby?" he asks worriedly, and Minho's eyes flicker up at him. "What's wrong?"

"I fucked up," he whispers.

"What?" he asks confused, and puts down his bag before sitting down opposite him.

"I love you, you know that, right?" Minho asks timidly.

"Of course I do," he assures him and offers his hand. Minho takes it, and Chan frowns, noticing he is shaking.

"I - uhm- remember when I told you that I'm open about having more than one partner?" he asks, and Chan nods gently. "And I also promised to tell you if that's ever the case before anything happens, right?"

Chan nods and straightens up a little. "Did something happen?" he asks gently.

"I picked her up, and we talked about yesterday. I told her that I always thought I'd never have a chance because of your crush on her and how things developed then," Minho starts, and Chan watches him intently. "She seemed to get it and got really sweet. I told her that if you'd have no issue, I'm willing to share you and-," he looks up, almost a little panicked, as you walk down the stairs.

Chan slowly turns his head, and meeting your eyes, he knows. He looks back at Minho, who looks incredibly guilty and swallows hard. "I kissed him," you say, bracing yourself for an outburst of Chan.

"You kissed my boyfriend?" Chan asks, very slowly looking back at you.

"Yes," you say quietly. "I know what you see in him, Chan, I'd be blind if I didn't."

"I told you to talk to him," he says before laughing. "I didn't think you'd take this a whole step further," he grins.

"You're not mad?" Minho asks and tilts his head at him.

"We've talked about this, baby. I could tell you like her more than a friend, and she's so desperate for love she doesn't pick up on a damn signal," he rolls his eyes at you. "I knew one day I'd come home, and you'd tell me you met someone. It's even better knowing it's my best friend."

Minho's face softens, and he visibly relaxes. "And you're okay with that?"

Chan smiles at him fondly. "I am very okay with that."

“Great…because there’s more,” Minho nods gently, and Chan frowns at him.

“More?” he asks puzzled.

PART TWO

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

Taglist: (Please let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the taglist!)

@soullostinspaceandtime @brownieloved @rebecca-johnson-28 @euphoric-univers @hyunniebunni @mal-lunar-28 @malfoygalaxies

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spacebarbarianweird · 5 months

Text

Astarion x Wizard!Tav Headcanons NSFW

Sooo… I like making my life difficult but I also want you all to be happy and enjoy NSFW headcanons. Besides, wizards are a popular class and they are known to be slutty.

Thank you @tallymonster @satanicspinosaurus @tragedybunny and @rachelle-on-the-run for ideas!

SFW version

Masterlist

Headcanons

Feel free to send me requests about other classes and races

So, you've always been this shy girl who is more interested in books and studies rather than dating and going out.

Actually, you've been this Swords Coast version of the "not like other girls" meme.

And you are very inexperienced in terms of sex.

Theoretically, you know what sex is but practically - no.

Astarion mocks you innocently all the time.

"And I was told wizards are slutty! Maybe you aren't a wizard after all!"

But he is very careful with you, maybe, fearing to hurt you even more than you are afraid to hurt him.

First, he shows you how to pleasure yourself ("You know, I have times when I won't even dare to undress in front of you").

Then, showing you how to pleasure him.

"There are a lot of things you can do with that mouth and hands of yours".

At first, you are embarrassed like nine hells with all those lewd things you do under his guidance.

But with time you relax and start doing what you can do best.

Learning and studying.

You study your body - what you like and what you don't.

Astarion simultaneously does the same - he has experience, yes, but he has no idea what he actually likes.

And your mutual sexual preferences develop accordingly.

But of all sexual practices, what do wizards like the most? Books.

You've never read for fun. Astarion starts bringing you books - especially, erotic novels.

Astarion reads them to you with his sluttiest and horniest voice.

"They even didn't get to penetration, and you are already red. And there is an orgy in the next chapter!"

Once you feel comfortable with your body you start expressing your needs openly as if incanting a spell.

"I want you to bend me over. And slap me in the process."

He mocks you every time but always does what you ask.

Using magical things sounds weird - what if some of the notorious wizards learn how you use magic for your pleasure?

"Darling, people use magic for the weirdest things - and no one cares. Besides, murdering and torturing people with magic is much worse than having sex. Well, I do enjoy magic murders - so why not enjoy magic sex?

The first spell you start using is "Silence" - you are both very loud.

"Mage hand".

Oh, the things you can do with the "mage hand"!

It can pull, tug, slap … Finger you when you give a blowjob. Stroke his cock when he licks your pussy.

It also helps with Astarion's issues. You use ropes to tie him to the bed and conjure the "hand" to caress his naked body and do a handjob while you sit in front of him and enjoy the view (and listen to his delightful moans)

"Mirror image". You've become rather horny, but you don't want other people in bed, this relationship is only for you two. So you conjure Astarion's mirror copy to be the second man in the process.

Enjoying double penetration and threesome without crossing your and Astarion's boundaries.

"Water Breathing". Why not have sex in that nicely looking-pool?

"Invisibility". It sparks a lot of imagination if you can't see your partner.

"Hold person". A temporary paralysis. Astarion never allows you to use it on him, it brings the worst memories, but you are perfectly fine with giving full control to your beloved vampire.

Who just does everything he wants to your motionless body for the whole hour.

"Borrowed knowledge". You have no clue how to do shibari. For an hour, you do.

"Fly". Having sex in the air - just don't forget to put something soft on the floor because you will be too busy to pay attention to how much time has passed.

After sex, he usually meditates. You've tried to use spells like "sleep" and "dream" on him, but they don't work. Maybe it's for the best, meaning, he is still an elf more than a vampire.

You stay beside him reading yet another erotic novel while gently touching his curls.

Tag list

@tragedybunny @caitlincat-95 @tallymonster @astarionsbeloved @lumienyx @fayeriess @elora-the-slutty-songstress @veillsar @astarion-imagine-archive @micropoe10 @starlight-ipomoea @herstxrgirl @theearthsfinalconfession @ashrio20 @not-so-lost-after-all @vixstarria @wintersire @marcynomercy

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volturissideslut · 7 months

Note

Hello! Can I request Emmett celebrating his mate when her first book gets published💖💖 I think he would be the biggest hype man around for his mate! Please and thank you!

𝕰𝖒𝖒𝖊𝖙𝖙 𝕮𝖚𝖑𝖑𝖊𝖓

Emmett is the most supportive person I can imagine to be honest

I mean, throughout the whole process he's with you listening to your rants about characters or issues developing

He comes up with little easter eggs to hide in the book too and, though he's not an avid reader himself, he'll try his best to read yours in a timely manner

And you bet the moment it comes out he's running to the nearest bookshop to get it

Would face time you as he goes back to the care like "BABYYYYYY I GOT ITTTT"

Brags to everyone he sees about you and how well you've done, to the point even Carlisle is sick of it

Is there for the whole process and knows how draining it can be and ho time consuming it can be, and is always there to give some of his all-consuming bear hugs wgeb you need them

Oh? Youre feeling a little down because you 'just can't get this chapter right?' Immediately you're thrown over his shoulder and he's running around the forest with you like a maniac until you're cheered up

Will sit in the same room as you while you're typing, out the way but still there, because it's a long process and he misses you :(

Bought at least 10 copies and just has them around the house

Goes around hiding them in plain sight

'one for Carlisle study, one for Edward collection, one hiding with the kitchen recepie books-' and on and on and on, hell mutter to himself and count out loud as he zooms about putting them away

#twilight #twilight renascence #x reader #headcannons #hc #twilight saga #emmett cullen #emmett cullen x reader #emmett cullen x you #volturisideslut #volturissideslut #asks open #edward cullen #bella swan #carlisle cullen #esme cullen #rosalie hale #jasper hale #alice cullen

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charpeach · 6 months

Note

I think you've created the best leshy and the best heket, both in terms of design and the posts and reblogs you've made.

but I would like to tell you that frogs don't have tails, heket is not a tadpole and that anura literally means tailless

Hi. I appreciate your message and thank you for the kind words about my designs.

Since the topic of Heket's tail seems to be appearing quite frequently in my and other artist's ask boxes, here's what I have to say.

This is your reminder that it is not okay to comment on people's artistic choices like that.

Art is art, and it begins in the artist.

Art exists to express its creator. It's to put their ideas, their love and passion towards a character or a franchise as a whole into something that others can see (listen to, read, touch, I'm not speaking just about paintings).

Art is a shared experience. It is to be observed.

And it is not an artist's job to try and fit their work into every frame that some people on the internet may have created for themselves.

Heket is not a frog. She may appear so, but her existence in a regural frog's body had ended very long time ago.

She's a goddess. A fallen and defeated one, at last, but the divine essence has intervened with her existence so much that it can't ever be taken away from her.

Frogs aren't fifteen-ish times the lamb's height. They don't have additional sets of eyes and the definitely do not have some weird crosses and tower looking like things sticking out their head. Oh, right, and they don't have tails too.

Cult of the lamb is a fantastic fictional world, with magic, relics, gods and ???. Narinder used to possess an ability to rip his face open and detach his eyeballs from their sockets to have a fight with lamb.

I don't see any good reason why in given circumstances Heket's current body can't have a tail. She still has other eyes and crosses, even though I don't include the latter in my art.

Once again, art is art and my design is my design. I've made that decision and I'm well aware that it may not be accurate to real life biology. Question awaits, why in the world should it?

I used to grow toadpoles into frogs in an aquarium a while ago. I've watched them go through every stage of development, I've seen them change and transform, and it isn't a momentary process. The tail doesn't suddenly fall off. The toadpoles first grow their back legs, then front ones, and by the time the latter are fully formed, they still have their tail for about a day or two. So, here's your biological explanation: her current body is very, very young.

I chose to include the tail in the design as a metaphor of bishop's rebirth. Her mind may be old, but right now she's like a child in a world that is so new and unfamiliar to her. She has to go through everything that all young people have to.

This post might seem just out of place, as if I'm looking too much into a simple comment like that one. But I've seen just one too many artists bullied into thinking that their ideas or choices aren't valid and do not matter. They were forced to change their beautiful works because someone else had told them to.

So let me tell you something instead.

You don't have to change your art. You can make whatever artistic choices you want, and they are valid, and they are beautiful, because they are yours.

We wouldn't have a quarter of the diversity and creativity in art if a long time ago one artist their contemporaries claimed to be weird and incorrect submitted to them and returned to only drawing what they thought were allowed.

Frames are to be broken.

I love you all, thank you for reading this.

#art #fanart #my art #cotl #cult of the lamb #artists on tumblr #fan art #heket #follower heket #cult of the lamb heket #cotl heket #long reads #artist #digital art #digital drawing #drawing

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honouredsatoru · 1 year

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pornstar!satosugu with neighbors you : you were that cute little thing that lived next door and that got them so riled up they could barely go a day of work without fucking a costar to the thought of you.

when they get you you go through a series of events in which you get godlike sex ?? the thing is they forget that you're not built like them and it shows most when they decide to bet on which one can make you cum the most ??? they'll have you fucked out on the bed, desperate to be freed because you think that if the keep going you'll die but they're not stopping because they keep on one upping the other ??

like you're shaking, pussy throbbing and still processing your previous orgasm when you see geto kneel in front of the bed because he's about eat you out AFTER GOJO JUST REARRANGED YOUR GUTS ??? and when you cum, he's not done, he's between your thighs plowing your cervix and your sweet spot so much, you won't walk for a few days. when you try and run away from his dick, he grabs you by the ankles and slams you against his cock ??

"stop. fucking. moving. I'm not done with your little cunt, princess. you'll give me one more and then I'll see. but that pussy stays stuffed until i say otherwise. don't make me spank you, you dirty little cockslut."

and you shake harder, feeling so exposed when gojo gets closer, watching his best friend fuck you raw and rough.

"look at what you're doing to her suguru, fucked her so stupid shes running away from you like her pussy wasn't creaming all over you. she's adorable ain't she ?? can't even think straight"

I... don't know who you are but all I can say is, I love this so much. Oh my god. Pornstar!satosugu who can't stop stuffing you with their girthy, veiny cocks, your neck and chest filled with love bites and marks, as they fucked you one last time, for the night by the way, they unloaded their cum all over you, focusing on your face and your tummy. Once they are done, these two just sit back to admire their work of art as you laid on the mattress, like the breathlessly sweet fuck doll you are. And for the next few days, they take good of you, babying their favourite beautiful, precious neighbour.

Ohhh. If your body is much smaller than theirs, I can see them developing a size kink because of you. Who knows? They might even move you in with them, keeping you to themselves.

p/s : sooooo sorry for this extremely late answer to you, anon 😭 i remember asking people to send me tokyo rev/jjk smut asks. im finally back-ish?? now the jjk2 is close to coming out and i am close to my semester break.

#lilithspeaks #honouredsatoru #gojo satoru #geto suguru #jjk smut #gojo satoru smut #getou suguru smut #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen fanfic

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egelskop · 4 months

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i am so interested in ur hlvrai au can we get a rundown

oh boy, this is going under a readmore.

fair warning, this is a LONG read because (1.) i am not a competent writer and (2.) i can't for the life of me keep things brief. sorry and or good luck.

ACT I

The Black Mesa incident: Gordon Freeman is provided an opportunity to do an informal beta test for a combat training simulation program that's in development in the Research & Development department of the Black Mesa Research Facility. (Read: He knows a guy in R&D and said guy knows Gordon likes video games and VR stuff, so he was like "hey you should come check this out when you're on break.")

The combat sim would be a revolutionary training simulation using artificial intelligence to enhance and realize the experience for the ‘player character’.

The test goes wrong, and Gordon can’t seem to disengage from the simulation and odd, unscripted things start happening; he has to ‘play the game’ to its full completion before he is able to exit the simulation safely. He has suffered a brain injury throughout the process, eye damage due to prolonged exposure to the headset and is generally traumatized by the simulation experience he at some point could no longer physically and emotionally distinguish from the real world. The project as a whole is shut down and Gordon is put into a rehabilitation program. Black Mesa covers up the incident as best it can, but whispers of it still echo around the facility.

Below is a page for a two-page comic i never finished detailing said events.

ACT II

The rumors reach the ears of a particularly tech-savvy researcher named Clark, who steals the project documentation and anything else he can get his hands on from a storage. At home, he looks into the project, reads about it, and gets curious about the simulation’s files themselves. They’re on a drive he plugs into his computer, and suddenly his system’s performance lags, windows open and close until a txt. file opens up. He comes into contact with one of the simulation’s AI that has somehow entered his operating system. He tries to keep it busy by having it poke around as he reads up on the simulation and its ultimate shutdown. When the AI reveals it can see him through the webcam, he panics and rips the drive out of the port. The invasive AI and the other project files seems like they’re gone from his system, he does a checkup but sees nothing odd running or otherwise. The next day after work he does another checkup. Finding nothing, he surmises he’s in the clear and starts up an online game. The slumbering, corrupted data of the AI sees its out, and disappears into the game.

ACT III

The transition/journey to the game is a rocky one, and the already corrupted data of the AI known as Benrey splits and gets even more fragmented. The largest fragment embeds itself into the game’s files to keep itself running. Without the foundation of the game to support it, it’d be lost to a dead void and slowly die out. Somewhat stable, it learns about the world around it; the game seems to be an exploration sandbox game. For now (and clarity), I’ve chosen to call this bigger, embedded fragment ‘Data’. (so this is the big benny with the right eye/one big eye in my art)

Data splits off a smaller fragment of itself, intending it to be an avatar or ‘player character’ but this grows into its own awareness and becomes who we’ll call ‘Beastrey’ (the smaller benny with the left eye and tail in my art).

The fragment ‘Beastrey’ wakes to a dead void, so Data uses its knowledge to create a private server for Beastrey, an empty world. Beastrey’s existence is an extension of the bigger part, with more freedom of movement to parse through the game and move freely within it, with the caveat that it can’t go ‘too far’ away from the host. Beastrey can visit other servers and relay information. Data learns and slowly starts building up the world/private server, at some point settling for an aquatic world because it reminds it of itself (something something sea of data). It's important to note that Beastrey retains little to no memories of the events of canon VRAI.

Data makes it easier for Beastrey to move around, and they grow to have more reach with time. At some point Data can alter the basic structural elements of the game, so it plays around with making things that are reminiscent of the memories it has of Black Mesa and Xen. At one point, it gains access to parse through the player base of the game, and takes note of an email address: ‘[email protected]’, attached to a player account. The name is somewhat familiar to it.

It sends an invite to join the server to the player account.

ACT IV

Gordon tries going back to work at Black Mesa after rehabilitating, but he has trouble separating his experiences with the simulation from reality, to a breaking point where an altercation with a security guard drives him to quit. He seeks professional help for his PTSD and anxiety, but still experiences dissociative episodes, migraines and somatic flashbacks localised mostly in his right forearm. Despite this, he is determined to continue living his life as normally as possible. He applies for a part-time job teaching physics at a local high school, the one where his son Joshua goes to, and remains relatively stable from there.

Joshua is 15 years old. Regular teen. After an impressive amount of pleading he got a VR-headset for his 14th birthday from Gordon (much to the disapproval of Gordon’s ex), and he’s been captivated by an exploration sandbox game since it came out a few months ago.

He gets an invite to an unnamed private server, and he accepts.

He is struck with awe as the world he enters seems completely different from the ones he’s seen so far in the game. Different flora, different fauna. Most of it uninteractible, though, or otherwise just retextured from its base game variant. Even the new enemy types, after a scare, can’t actually hurt him, it seems. He stumbles upon Beastrey, who is just as surprised to see him and wants him out until Joshua says he was invited.

Joshua commends Beastrey (who introduces himself as 'Ben-') on ‘modding’ everything in, but admits that he was disappointed to find that everything was just surface-level stuff. Beastrey inquires about what he’d like to see. Data is always watching, unseen, and decides to alter the world in the way Joshua described when Joshua leaves.

Joshua starts appearing more often, if only for a few hours at a time. He marvels at the ways the world shifts and grows with each time he plays, and takes to exploring it with Beastrey at his side, for whom strangely enough a lot of things are also new. Joshua teaches both Beastrey and Data about the outside world, thinking Beastrey is just a somewhat reclusive but likeable weirdo.

Joshua tells Gordon about the new friend he made, ‘Ben’, and the adventures he’s been having with the other. Gordon is happy to hear Joshua is having a good time, but is otherwise none the wiser. Joshua starts losing track of time in the game, but chalks it up to being invested.

During one play session, Beastrey confesses he isn’t the one who did all the ‘modding’, and invites Joshua to meet Data. Data, or at least its ‘physical’ in-game manifestation is deep within the world, past the aquatic twilight zone and strange, drowned ruins of an unknown facility. Data, for the first time, really sees Joshua, and the resemblance sparks something within it. Joshua is drawn closer to it, and just before he reaches it-

Joshua wakes up lying on the floor with Gordon hunched over him in his room, pleading with him to wake up. Joshua unknowingly got drawn into the game much like Gordon had been, and Gordon urges Joshua to never touch the headset again, taking it away. Gordon opens up about his experiences with the simulation a bit more. They both agree to not touch the game or the headset again.

ACT V

Gordon comes into contact with an old coworker from Black Mesa, and he inquires about the combat simulation project, if anything happened to it after it was canned. This is where he learns that an employee had taken the project files from storage and was consequently fired. He comes into contact with Clark, and Clark explains he had no idea he accidentally unleashed the AI unto the game. Gordon asks if anything can be done to prevent what happened to Joshua and himself from happening to other people. Clark confesses he doesn’t know, and that it’s up to the developers of the game to find anything out of place and make sure it gets fixed. Gordon decides to leave the matter where it lies, not wanting anything to do with AI and simulations anymore and to safeguard his son.

Some time passes.

Joshua starts getting repeated invites and messages, at one point he gets into a conversation with ‘Ben’ via a platform’s messaging system. Ben says he can explain everything, that he’s sorry. Joshua decides he would like one final goodbye. He finds the headset stashed away somewhere in the house, and, while Gordon’s gone, he turns on the game and enters the server.

Beastrey (Ben) is surprised to see him, urging him to log out and turn off the game, but it’s already too late and Joshua can no longer leave. Beastrey helps Joshua attempting to ‘exit’ the game by going as far away from Data’s reach, but Data stops Beastrey and traps Joshua, determined to wait to the point that he assimilates into the game completely.

Gordon eventually finds Joshua comatose with the headset on, and he panics. He considers calling the emergency services, but he’s afraid they’ll take the headset off or that removing Joshua too far from the game will hurt his son like what happened to him. He calls Clark, urging him to help in any way he can. This results in Gordon and Clark going back to Black Mesa to retrieve the project files and the other gear they can get their hands on to get Gordon into the game to free his son.

Gordon enters the private server with Clark’s player character, and thwarts any attempt from Data to impede his progress and trap him as well. Beastrey’s awareness is overridden by Data as a last ditch effort to deter Gordon and Gordon is forced to destroy Beastrey before he can reach Data. As Beastrey is taken over, Data gains Beastrey’s awareness, and finds his other, littler half never wanted to trap Joshua in the first place, and the way it hurt him to hurt both Joshua and Gordon to this extent.

At this point, Data wavers in its intention to keep Joshua trapped, even more so with Beastrey now gone, and recognises whatever it is that is driving Gordon forward in the game is outside of his control to manipulate, so he lets Gordon destroy it as well. In a way, it also feels as a fulfillment of its intended role as the ‘villain’. The server crashes, the world breaks apart. The ‘game’ is completed.

The final boss is defeated and both Gordon and Joshua wake up. Joshua luckily wasn’t exposed long enough to have suffered any lasting damage, except for what seems to be a minor headache and some light sensitivity (and a vow from Gordon to get him checked out by a doctor as soon as the clinics open).

The whole ordeal results in Clark, Gordon and Joshua sitting in a Denny’s at four in the morning, eating pancakes somewhat solemnly, completely exhausted but also still reeling from the virtual battle. Joshua learns that ‘Ben’ essentially died, and he can’t help but cry for his friend.

“Honestly, I don’t think he’s gone,” Gordon admits, picking at the last bites of his pancakes. "I think he- or whatever that was, has a hard time staying dead. Like a cockroach, you know? At this point I’m just wondering when he’ll turn up again.”

Clark hums in agreement. Joshua seems somewhat reassured by his words, wiping at his eyes with the scratchy napkin as he settles into the squeaking diner seat.

“But,” he starts with a sigh, pointing his syrup-covered fork upwards to the ceiling in a decree, “One thing’s for certain…”

He thinks back to a time rife with virtual gunfire, caging walls and hysterical laughter echoing through the halls of the Black Mesa research facility. Five sets of footsteps and a whisper of his name.

“…No more VR. No more headsets. Ever.”

TL;DR: Gordon got trapped in VR and then Joshua also got trapped in VR. Benrey is there but also not.

thank you for reading. here. ( x ‿ o ) 🫴

#augmentedreality #gras talks #i need you all to understand that most of the plot was retroactively written to justify certain stylistic choices in my art #thats why beastreys design became what it is now and it wasnt 'like that' in the beginning #i didnt expect myself or others to become invested in it to such an extent /crying #with all of this i mean to say please don't grill me on the details. i simply dont know and will start crying profusely if pressed #also its very bencentric but i have played around with shoehorning the rest of the science team into it as well. so far no luck though

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utilitycaster · 1 year

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I've gotten a couple replies of "and that's terrifying" on this post about the more stable members of Bells Hells, and, to be honest, hate that, so let's talk about it.

There's a couple reasons. The first that I still don't know who the fuck thought the Issylra half of the party split would be Team Levelheaded and not Team Abandonment Issues, because, well, it's the latter. The second is that there's been a near constant undercurrent from quite early in the campaign of "oh Orym...he's going to break...he's a powder keg" and while he's decidedly not a powder keg, we did get him finally breaking a bit, and suddenly everyone's like "HORRIFYING that the guy I kept claiming was uniquely angsty is now having a harder time with the party split than the other characters whose equally tragic backstories I've consistently ignored, diminished, and dismissed."

All three of the Bells Hells characters in Team Issylra have issues related to loneliness and being left behind, which is a common thread through the party, but notably, Fearne, FCG, and Chetney being more stable should not be surprising nor scary. Resilience isn't tied to whether or not you're somewhat chaotic, or have mechanically-induced loss of control, and that's what we're talking about here. The reason why Team Issylra is having a rough time of it - and specifically why Laudna and Orym are falling apart whereas Ashton is doing comparatively well - is because they've been constantly pretending things are okay. Chetney, meanwhile, genuinely does think the worst thing that happened to him fucking rules, and has the age and perspective and sheer survival instincts to pull through; FCG has, within the story, had to face some horrifying realizations about himself and so has some tools for this kind of situation; and Fearne is to be honest still learning that consequences are a thing that happens, but she has dealt with a few profound disappointments and is sitting with them - she openly admitted she's not terribly impressed by her parents.

On the other hand, I think Orym has worked through the earlier stages of grief, to be sure, but he's put a brave face on over it and tried to look at the bright side. Which isn't the worst idea, but it means when the things he's built that idea of a bright side upon - Keyleth's infallibility, his relationships within the Crown Keepers - are nowhere to be found, he doesn't have anything to take hold of. He adjusted to one devastating change by clinging to the constants, and now that many of the constants are gone too, he has no mechanism to process the change in their absence.

And this is Laudna's whole deal, right? I do in fact agree that her initial death was still the worst thing that's happened to her so far, but that doesn't mean she can't still be incredibly upset by major events. It's comforting to know you've survived worse, but it doesn't necessarily help you actually get through a slightly less terrible (but still pretty terrible) situation. She says she can't stop compartmentalizing or she'll cry - but like, she'd probably feel better if she'd just spent the second watch crying. Like Orym, Laudna's developed this idea that she can will things into being okay, and in the end, she can't. Leaning into the "Today SUCKS" attitude would, honestly, help her, and I'm hoping she does so.

Ashton meanwhile doesn't have healthy coping mechanisms, but they do have coping mechanisms that work in this situation (namely, drinking and hitting things). He also, more importantly, has no investment in pretending things are okay. Ashton thinks the world is full of utter bullshit that will fuck you over, and the point is to get through it, and sure, it's a very cynical mindset, but there's a reason why toxic positivity is, well, toxic.

As a sidebar, I also think that Ashton has, fascinatingly and despite their drunken talk with Laudna on the skyship, put their abandonment issues into perspective. Ashton is able to handle the current situation because, logically, they were teleported to a random location beyond their control and with no capacity to contact other people, so it's reasonable to assume the other half of the party is in the same position. No one abandoned anyone. To quote Ashton themself, actually, from episode 25, "Sometimes shit's just fucked up, and the only thing you can do because you didn't do anything fucking wrong, is get the fuck back up and do the exact same thing all over again knowing that there was nothing to learn." On the other hand, the fact that Milo saved Ashton makes that particular situation worse. If Ashton had been left to die in the street and a random uninvolved stranger picked him up? Then you can at least imagine the Nobodies had to leave, or couldn't pick them up for whatever reason, or even perished themselves. The fact that Milo was able to make this choice means the Nobodies also had the ability to make a choice, and the choice was to leave them behind, and that's what stings, and that's the unique loneliness, and that's why this situation isn't comparable.

So anyway, in summary, it's unsurprising the two people who have handled grief and tragedy by trying to quietly (in Orym's case) and not-so-quietly (in Laudna's) smooth it over are finding themselves completely unable to do so and barely holding together, whereas the people who allow themselves to be upset or, frankly, just go apeshit, are doing much better.

#critical role #critical role spoilers #bells hells #Ashton (and Deni$e) are honestly reminding me of the Yasha pit fight in C2 rn #like was that a healthy coping mechanism no but Yasha honestly did feel much better after it and her recovery trajectory went up from there #and ashton has the other dimension of like. he has chronic pain. it's unfair and serves no purpose. shit happens.#it's very they should invent a way out that isn't through but unfortunately they didn't so fuck it i'm smashing the wall #i mean barbarian rage as catharsis isn't a new idea by any stretch but. the thing about a reckless attack is it feels good as hell

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