#[he is a soft super insecure boy especially where it concerns living up to his father's legend]

[moonlights-inkwell]

I’m Weak, My Love (And I am Wanting)

Jaskier x Reader

Word Count: 5,525

Summary: After a night of drinking, you dance with a stranger. Jaskier is jealous. Jealous enough to do something extreme

A/N: Two Fics in one day? Who is she? I have no idea.

This fic is dumb and super unbeta’d but oh well, sorry for any bad writing and junk. I’ve mentioned Jaskier being jealous before and wanted to write something to go with it.

Title from Her Sweet Kiss.

Warnings: Public Sex, slight degradation, Reader is drunk, Jaskier is insecure. 

You feel the eyes on you before you even really understand what they are, hairs on the back of your neck standing up on end. It’s distracting as all hell.

“Fuck!”  

The word comes out loud and slurred as you stumble over your own feet mid-dance. You’re drunk, or if not drunk then tipsy enough to know that you soon will be- the feeling is more than welcome. Working, fighting as you have been, it leaves little time these sorts of festivities, the kind that reminds you of home. The rush from guzzling down tankard after tankard of sickly-sweet apple cider is unrivalled in its ability to make you feel girlish and giddy. And so, you’re dancing. Or were, as it may be, before you tripped. 

Your compatriots don’t join you, but you rather expected that before abandoning the table. Geralt seldom allows himself to indulge in such luxuries- like smiling, or engaging in pleasantries, so you assume that dancing is far beyond his capabilities. He doesn’t even tap his foot when Jaskier performs catchy, often bawdy songs, in his honour, so this music, pretty but lacking in lyric or any type of familiarity is unlikely to rouse him to his feet. Besides, crowds are hardly something the White-haired man enjoys, standing out like a sore thumb amidst all of the mundane people of the village you’re staying in.  

Jaskier, however, Jaskier staying at the table is a little odder. The bard adores crowds, feeds off of the energy that a group of people exudes and is able to talk to anyone, a trait you find intriguing and intimidating in equal measure, but he's sat. The tavern has a band of bards, all playing in unison to form something overwhelming and beautiful, so there is no chance for him to perform, to wink and sashay about while strumming his lute and lapping up attention. That had rather taken the wind out of his sails when he realised, souring his mood to a point where he isn’t even trying to dance with you. It had been upsetting at first, how he had essentially ignored you in favour of scowling and fingering the frets of his lute like the strings will make the other musicians disappear.  

Ever since meeting the bard, you’ve thought him beautiful. Not beautiful, beautiful isn’t quite the right word. He's amazing. The kind of person for whom a natural sort of charm radiates from them, who would be attractive from personality alone, even if he wasn’t one of the most attractive men you have ever laid eyes upon. Ever since the two of you began... whatever it is the two of you have been doing, he's done his part to act as if you’re the only person in tge world to him, but right now? He only has eyes for the band. The coin that he could have earned would have been a godsend, but you don’t care about that right now, all you want is to dance with the bard. He's just. Sat there, scowling and sitting instead if dancing with you.  

It’s such a simple thing to bring so much pleasure; dancing, especially when coupled with somewhere to do it, and this tavern certainly feels like an appropriate place for it. It’s heaving, overrun with people you assume must b locals, all laughing and chattering like they haven’t a care in the world. Perhaps they don’t, their only troubles coming in the form of what ale to drink and who they should dance with. You envy them that. Truly, you can’t remember a single one of your concerns from before you packed up and abandoned your life go travel with a wandering Witcher and his Bard. Logically, you know you must have had them, but not a single one is important enough to linger in your mind. Any domestic issue pales in comparison to fighting beasts, arguments about corsets and how near you may go to the woods forgotten in lieu of how best to fell a Wyvern or exactly where to hit any man who means to do you harm. It’s selfish to envy these people their lives when you know that you wouldn’t trade the life you have chosen for all the gold in the world. Mid-stumble, you catch yourself, and stand upright once more, bringing your tankard to your mouth and draining it before moving to place it on a table, only to fall over your feet once more, flinching for fear of impact with the ground. But it never comes, instead a pair of arms wind about your waist and tug you up to the body of one of the boys who had been dancing around you. He’s a pretty thing, a mop of blonde curls hanging about wide green eyes that stare at you like you’re a prize that’s fallen into his lap, and you grin up at him gratefully. It takes less than a second for him to tug you closer still and begin another dance, hand on your waist and the other gripping your hand; it’s nice, nice to feel wanted, even if it’s only for a night, a dance- there are worse ways to spend a night than hanging off the arm of some pretty stranger. Serves as a nice distraction from the bard as well. Well, it would be nice, if not for the feeling that you’re being watched, that has you craning your head to see who it is that is staring. Then, your eyes meet a gaze all too familiar.  

Jaskier.  

His eyes are narrowed into slits, brows knitted together and mouth downturns in a look that you don’t recognise on his face, but know all too well. A scowl. Jaskier doesn’t scowl, that’s a look used by Geralt or yourself, but right now he's scowling at you, glaring daggers into you and gripping the neck of his lute so tightly it looks as if it might break.  

“Something wrong, Pretty Lady?” The blond asks playfully, making you turn your gaze away from the glowering man across the room to meet the eyes looking down at you.  

“Oh. No. No, I just. Thought someone was looking at me.”  

“The man in the red?” He asks, looking straight at Jaskier before chuckling, spinning you about and causing you to fall against his chest once more. “I don’t think he likes me very much.”  

“What?” You ask incredulously, eyebrow raising. It's such a weird thing for him to say about a complete stranger, and you can’t really understand what he means. Jaskier is scowling, yes, but you assume it’s because you’re able to enjoy yourself while he cannot perform.  

“He looks like he might murder me.” The boy tilts his head and leans his head in, mere centimetres from your face in such a way that has you thinking that he might kiss you. “Your husband?”  

His question flusters you, only serving to make your cheeks flush bright red and a nervous laugh to escape your lips. Jaskier? A Husband? The idea of him being wed is so alien, even when applied to you. You spend too many nights with him curled about you, but you aren’t even courting, never mind being anywhere close to marriage.

“No!” You say the word a little too forcefully, and your dancing partner grins. “We're traveling partners, he is not my husband.” You don’t know what you are. You kiss, settle in his arms like it’s where you belong, spend far too many nights with him bucking up into you and swallowing down your moans, but you aren’t courting. He isn’t your gentleman caller. Your lover, yes, your friend, always, but you have no clue how to articulate that to this stranger, and so don't.

“The look on his face has me thinking he might wish to be more than traveling partners, Pretty Lady.” He says teasingly, lips brushing against your own with each word. You are more than that, but the alcohol has you tongue tied. You want to kiss this stranger. Well, that’s not entirely true, you want to be dancing with Jaskier and to drag him down into a kiss, to lean in and close the gaps between your lips, but you'll settle for trying to forget the man behind you who cares far more about music than spending time with you. He seems to have the same thought as you seeing as he kisses you suddenly.  

Its soft, sweet, but... felt like nothing. It’s just skin on skin, no different from how his hand on yours feels, and you can’t help but feel disappointed. You’ve only ever kissed one man before, never felt a need or want to either, only ever really wanted a bard who is too tied up in himself currently to kiss you, but every kiss with Jaskier is a world stilling experience, the sort people write songs and poetry about and this feels like absolutely nothing at all. No sudden surge of desire, no need to fling your arms about him, no want for anything at all.  It’s deeply disappointing to say the least; like something inside of you is broken, or at least dampened by the alcohol raging through your system. The man kissing you, however, seems to feel something if the quiet moan he lets out is anything to go by, and pulls you closer, but you remain still. You can’t bring yourself to kiss him back, so instead just stand there stock still. Well, stood stock still until you feel a hand firmly grasp your wrist and tug. Hard. The pull sends you stumbling blindly backward, barely able to realise what is going on when you see Jaskier pushing the blond man backwards.  

“Get your bloody hands off of her!” He says, words dripping with poison, audible above the music. The people dancing around you stop their movements and stare at what is going on, at the Bard standing in front of you like a guard dog.  

Your dancing partner opens his mouth to argue while surging toward Jaskier who clenches his fists into balls, but stops when you quickly say Jaskier's name. This is the closest you have ever seen him to a fight, watching hands that daily cradle a lute clenched to punch someone is so unnatural.

It’s embarrassing, to say the least, to be gawked at by such strangers and turned into a spectacle, and so you reach out to the bard, hand brushing against his back.

“Jask-” You begin, and he turns to you quickly, eyes initially full of anger, but softening slightly when they meet your own; his hand flies out once more and grabs your arm, painfully tight.  

“Come on, Little Miss,” He says coldly, walking towards the door to the pub and dragging you along behind him. You drag along behind him, and hear the music start up once more, making you scowl at the prospect of missing out on dancing. There goes the chance at nostalgic bliss you had been enjoying. You’re in the street before you really know what is going on, and Jaskier curses under his breath into the darkness of the evening.  

“Shit. Where is the fucking inn...?” He mutters, craning his head about to try and get his barings once more. This isn’t where you recall entering, and assume that you must have left through a side entrance, you’re in some side alley, not the main street. The iron grip on your arm is growing painful and you try to pull it free, Jaskier's grip doesn’t falter. The air is uncomfortably cold, especially against your warm cheeks, and standing like this is doing little to warm you.  

He’s trying to work out where you go from here, and you’re wondering the exact same thing; just not about how to get back to the inn. He’s gripping you like he wants to bruise you, wants to leave his mark on you and you don’t know what there is you can say to make his jaw unclench or his hands soften. There are no words. Though you aren’t courting, it’s been quite implicit between the two of you that whatever it is you have, it’s exclusive; he and you are not to be... toying about with other people. You don’t flirt with men hoping for free drinks or cheaper rooms anymore, Jaskier doesn’t bed or even flirt with other women, and between the two of you? You fell at the first hurdle, he has remained loyal to whatever this is, and you let some stranger kiss you. Famous flirt and serial seducer, Jaskier, has not tried to romance anyone but you but with a little ale in you and the high of dancing rushing through you, you let a stranger kiss you; not just kiss you, but kiss you in front of Jaskier. There’s nothing you can say that will change that.  

“I’m weak, my love, and I am Wanting.” The lyrics come from your mouth unconsciously. You don’t sing, it’s not something that comes readily to you, but with the ale and discomfort around you, it’s a that you can think to do. Singing is Jaskier's skill, and while drunk you can hardly carry a tune, but you simply need to fill the silence and a song will do. His song too. It feels like an insult, but he turns to you with a smile- all teeth and gums. Like a wolf, a beast, and it’s exciting. Jaskier doesn’t look like a beast, he’s all sweetness and light but given what he’s seen, you suppose it makes sense. You blink slowly at him, and feel him tug you toward him once more, body making contact with his chest and driving all of the air from your lungs.

“What the bloody hell was that all about?” You ask, a little more harshly than you expected it to come out. “I was having a good time-”  

“A good time? Is that what you call letting a little toad like him near you?” He seethes, towering over you in such a way as to make sure you must look up at him. You feel like a child being chided, not someone talking to a man who had until this night been seen as your equal.  

“We were only dancing, Jaskier. I fail to see how he was taking advantage of me by dancing. You and Geralt were hardly going to stop your brooding and be my partner.” You try to argue, but your words come out stilted and unnatural. Arguing with him isn’t natural: Geralt you can argue with until blue in the face, everything said is forgotten within an hour or so, but Jaskier? He remembers everything, pulls it out at a second’s notice and is a wordsmith. He knows how to build up or tear someone down with nothing more than his words, and well at that. Your argument is childish and nonsensical too- acting as if you were only dancing is an obvious lie. You know what happened, he knows what happened. You cannot deny what he's seen with his own eyes and to try is to insult his intelligence.  

He pushes you, and the rough brick of the inn presses into your back, rough and painful enough to warrant a noise of complaint, which dies on your tongue when Jaskier's hands bracket you in place. You let out a gasp, from the sharp pain of the bricks and the fact that he's pushed you and is so near. With him so close, you can smell ale on his breath that you hadn’t seen him drink. Is that your breath? The proximity of your lover so close combined with the alcohol has your head spinning in a way that makes you worry you might just sink to your knees. He looks beautiful. He always does, but somehow, now with chestnut locks falling into his eyes and glaring at you in a manner that is just on the right side of feral, he has your knees shaking. You've never been attracted to dangerous men, but in this moment, with him having all but punched a man over you, you understand how so many women can fall over themselves for men like Geralt.  

“You weren’t just dancing, were you, Little Miss?” He growls, leaning in until his face is but a centimetre away from your own. “You let him kiss you.”  

“He kissed me.” You attempt to correct him before realising you've basically said the exact same thing he did. Jaskier growls at that, and slams his mouth into yours. It hurts a little, his kiss pushing your head back into the hard wall, mouth working harshly against your own and tongue prying its way into your mouth, world’s away from his usual way of kissing- all sweetness and light replaced by something darker. Almost possessive. You try to move your hands up to grip the satin front of his doublet only to have them pinned to the wall at either side of your chest. His lips leave your own to move down to the column of your throat, not quite kissing but more nipping at the skin.  

“You let him kiss you.” He says darkly against the skin, warm breath fanning against cold skin to make you shiver.  

“I didn’t kiss him-"

“You didn’t stop him either.” The words are almost a snarl, and your heart all but stills in your chest.  

“I didn’t know how! And I didn’t kiss him back, Jaskier, we both know I wouldn't...”  

“I don’t believe in sharing.” Funny statement. He’s made a name for himself by bedding married women, but the woman he isn’t courting being kissed is somehow a punishable offence? What’s the difference, you ask yourself, while his lips ghost across your neck, how is some man kissing you any different from what he used to do? Teeth graze sensitive skin and you bite back a moan when a thought enters your mind. Those women weren’t his. They were another man's wife, not someone he shares a bed with, spends his days beside. He hasn’t ever needed to concern himself with the aftermath of adultery, save for running from nobles- never been jealous of who looks at a woman that he cares for.

At once, everything falls into place. All night makes so much more sense, how he had tried to keep a grip on your hand as you slipped from his grasp to the bar, never to return as you joined the fold to dance, the constant watching, the scowling at your dancing partner. No sign of his usual animated chatter, no annoying Geralt, just watching. Unending watching. He wasn’t angry about the other musicians. No, no, it was something completely different all together.  

“Are. Are you jealous?” You stammer out which only makes the Bard growl and all but bite your neck, sucking on the skin in such a way that has you certain that there will be a bruise there in the morning. A strange concept indeed. Jaskier is all lover and no fighter, so the thought of him bruising your skin even through kisses is something else.  

“Am I jealous of some ugly prick?” He raises an eyebrow and slowly raises to his full height once more, his knee slotting between your thighs and grinding oh so slowly against your sex. “No. What I am, is fucking angry. That some bastard is touching My Little Miss, that you would let him-"  

“Y-Yours?” You stammer out as the meat oh his thigh rubs against your clitoris.  

“I spend my days singing to you.” He nips at your neck. “My evenings holding you.” He laps at the bite with the flat of his tongue. “My nights fucking you.” His hands release your wrists, one moving up to grope your chest while the other moves down to tug your skirts up past your waist and slides into your undergarments to press the tips of his fingers to your sensitive pearl, letting out a ghost of a laugh upon feeling your fluids covering his digits. “I kiss you; I sleep with you, I live and breathe you and use my mouth on you until you can't even breathe. I think that rather makes you mine.”  

He says it in a manner that is so matter of fact that it makes your head spin. His. Logically, you know you should be angry at him for being possessive- you aren’t his partner, not his wife, not anything more than a bed partner- but the way he says it has you dripping, walls clenching around nothing at all while his leg grinds against your cunt. His. It leaves no room for argument or discussion, just a claim of ownership that can’t be disputed, not that you would if your traitorous mouth would allow you to form words. You like that, as much as you know you shouldn’t. It makes you sound like a pet or some kept whore, and the affectation in his voice only serves to remind you that he must be some rich cunt and you should slap him for implying he could ever own you, but really, all you want is for him to breach you with his calloused fingers, make your thighs quake. To be owned by him, at least right now, sounds perfect- to be filled with him until you know nothing but his name and how his cock feels within you.  

“You're soaking.” He mutters, dragging his nose against your skin. “Is this for me? Or that prick?” He sounds so smug, but there's an undercurrent of anger running under his playful tone.  

“Please... Please.” You whine out, biting your bottom lip so hard you taste blood. He chuckles, fingers deftly circling your clit without ever moving further.

“Please what, Little Miss?” He asks, his smile all teeth. “Please...? Please stop touching you? Please let you go and be touched by that disgusting little-"  

“Finger me.” You cut him off earnestly, back arching off of the wall and pressing your chest into his. Melitele, it’s sad how wanton you’re acting, begging to be touched in a place where anyone could walk past the two of you. Quiet is needed, discretion to keep prying eyes away, but you don’t care who hears you as long as he stops playing these games and does what you both want him to do.  

“Me or-"  

“Gods above Jaskier, please. Please, Jaskier.”  

He smirks at that, and you force yourself forward to slam your mouth against his. The vibration against your lips lets you know he has more to say; always has more to say, is never silent. Normally, his voice is something you revel in; how it manages to make even the most mundane thing sound melodic, but if kissing him will keep him from talking more about the man inside then you can deal with him not speaking. Thankfully, though, he ceases his circling to instead push what feels like two fingers into you and your eyes water at the sudden movement. It’s not the first time he’s done this but it is the first time he’s done it with such intensity, thrusting his fingers with such force you're almost afraid it might bruise your cunt, the worry is short lived when the pleasure of it hits you all at once. He’s good with his hands, you’re reminded when you notice the neck of his lute bobbing with each movement of his arm. Musicians’ fingers, calloused from the fruits of his art and not labour, play you like he plays his lute and you bite down on your bottom lip to keep from making a sound, just to spite him. He loves it when you make noise, said once that it makes him sure that he's actually pleasing you, and it’s normally a sign that you two can afford the privacy to be so- there is no privacy here, in an alley outside of a busy tavern where one loud moan could alert anyone of what the two of you were doing. It’s embarrassing how much the proximity makes you want to moan, and almost definitely why he's doing this here. Wants everyone inside, but mostly the blond man, to know how little it takes for you to fall apart for him. That travelling partner definitely isn’t the right term for what he is to you, even if you don’t know what the right words to describe him are.  

“Come now, Little Miss.” He coos quietly, fingers on the hand not currently working you into a stupor tracing the visible edges of your teeth. “Sing for me.” His face shifts to your neck and presses a soft kiss to it, before nipping at it, nipping turning to biting and sucking as soon as it had started. His fingers gather more momentum when a third breeches into you and then crooks into a spot that has you seeing stars. A noise that verges on a scream, masked by a sudden burst of loud music and cheering within the pub, escapes you which makes Jaskier grin and peck your lips before retracting his fingers all together.  

“Jaskier-" You hiss, eyes narrowed to slits, but stop when he drags your hand to his trousers and places it on top of his cock. The dark had done enough to conceal it from you, but with it beneath your hand you can feel it, hard and throbbing beneath the fancy fabric. It’s good to know that, jealousy aside, he isn’t angry enough to not want you. Dark lashes brush against his cheekbones and his head slumps to the wall beside your head as soon as you touch him, letting out a wanton little moan. “Oh Jask.” Your voice turns tender and your grip on his member tightens as much as it can through his pants and you work it up and down the shaft, feeling how it twitches with every movement of your wrist. The first time this had ever happened, both of you drunk on ale that tasted like piss and hidden away in some cupboard in an inn, he had chuckled at how gentle your touch had been, going so far as to grab your wrist to guide your movements into something more pleasurable: but now he chokes out a moan of something that sounds like your name, hips stuttering in staccato thrusts to chase your hand. You drop your grip of him after a pump or two more, turning your head to press a gentle kiss to the exposed underside of his jaw. It’s little by means of an apology, but you see his lips turn up in a smile while he heaves out a sigh, hands sliding down to his trousers and unlacing them at a speed that reminds you of his strumming.  

“Part your legs.” It’s spoken like a request, but you know it’s a demand and even if it wasn't, there was no way you could deny him. With an awkward sort of shuffle, you push your undergarments down to step out of them best that you can before leaning back against the wall and letting your legs part. The skirts still cover you, but you feel so exposed like this. In the near pitch, you can hardly make out anything save for how his arms move to shove his trousers down. Darkness hides too much, you think, as you can’t even make out how his member even looks in this light, but Melitele you feel it against your thigh when he steps closer to you. A cold hand slides your skirt up once more and Jaskier steps between your legs, holding onto your thigh and guiding it onto his hip.  

“Can I-"

“Fuck me, Jaskier, or I shall scream.”  

The moan that escapes your lips is louder than you would like, but he chuckles and it’s enough to make your heart swell: lips landing on your and moving gently against them as he thrusts into you. He's big, big enough to make your cunt feel full to bursting point each time he enters you, and you can’t help but make noises when he does.  

“There we go, Darling.” He murmurs against your mouth, making you wonder how he can string together a coherent sentence in moments like this. “Gods, you’re so tight.”  

Thrusts grow faster and with each movement your moans grow louder even against his lips, you can feel them curl around yours. He tugs back from you after a little while and rests his forehead against the wall, breathing heavily.  

“You’re so good to me, Little Miss.” He breathes, grip turning to iron on your thigh. “You’re... perfect. My Little Miss.” He speaks so much that his words feel so much more natural than silence, more natural than anything in the world; bird songs, trickling streams, Jaskier’s words. “You’re beautiful, and he wants you... everyone wants you. I can’t lose you...”

“...You know I want you, don’t you?” You ask, voice cracking. The noise that he makes is somewhere between a moan and a sob, breathing shakily against the skin of your throat. “I can't imagine being without you, Dandelion. You... You have no need to be jealous of some stranger who tries to kiss me.” He whimpers, hips stuttering. He's close, far closer than you, but in this moment, you don't care at all. This isn’t about you. This is about him, and letting him know how much you care. Care in such a way that words alone will never be able to express.  

“You want me now.” He sighs, thrusts slowing and hand moving to rub your clit once more. “I know that. But you'll change your mind, Little Miss. Everyone does. I ought to savour the time we have...” He thrusts hard at the word savour, and you see white as his cock head hits that spot deep within that makes you weak. “But I know you’ll soon change your mind.”  

Oh. That, that was not what you anticipated at all- you had expected some sort of talk about how he wants you too, but this self-depreciation is new. Jaskier is always so confident and this is alien to you. There isn’t a time you know when he isn’t self-aggrandizing, preening and strutting like some fancy song bird, all too aware of how wonderful he is.  

“I'll always want you.” You whisper and his head rises from the wall once more and instead rests his forehead against yours. “You. Just you. Wonderful, amazing you.” You mean it too. He'll probably believe it to be drunken ramblings come morning, but you mean every word. You love him, love him, love him.  

You love him. Have for far too long, really, far longer than is right to go without saying. It’s impossible not to love him, he’s a breath of fresh air, a beacon of light in a doublet, a lullaby you didn’t know you had forgotten, nostalgia for a life you've never known before. Jaskier. Wonderful, foolish Jaskier, who sings away each day and talks to you like he cannot imagine speaking to another soul, and does his best to stitch up your wounds while chiding you about how you worry him so. Jaskier, who has carried you on his back when he thinks you're limping behind, and sleeps with his arms wound around you and head burrowed between your shoulder blades. You love Jaskier. The thought overwhelms you, and you have to bite back the words to keep them from coming out. You seek his lips out once more, kissing him chastely.  

“I'll always want you too, Little Miss.” He admits, he thrusts hard into that spot and presses on your clit and your vision blurs as you moan so loudly your voice cracks, pleasure overtaking you and ensuring you can’t feel anything but pleasure and the rush of his seed flooding into you.  

“I mean it, you know.” You say when the world settles once more, Jaskier pulling himself free of you and tucking himself back into his trousers. “About wanting you, I mean.” I mean it. I shall want you till the day I die, till each star burns out and the nights no longer follow the day, till spring doesn’t come. I want every part, every facet and secret, every regret and mistake and treasured memory- and to make a million more. I want to show you each scar and hear every song. I love you. I have never loved anyone as I love you, I will never again love as I have loved you. You make a poet out of me, steal my senses, my very soul; and I want you to keep them until the day you are no longer mine to keep, and then keep them a thousand days beyond so I cannot feel your absence. I love you. I want you.

“You mean it now, Little Miss.” He says simply, hand taking yours. “Now is enough.” He continues and squeezes your hand.  

Now is enough, you think, but forever is all you want.  

[creatingnikki]

Start Up

This was the first k-drama where I legit thought that the 2nd male lead was actually the first male lead until half-way through the show. While I do really like Nam Do-San’s character, I think  Han Ji-Pyeong made me feel WAY more. Especially in terms of the romantic chemistry. 

In the beginning, I was so satisfied with the show. But then I think somewhere around the 12th or 13th episode I started to get bored and disappointed. I think that’s mainly because halmeoni suddenly became a side side character and even Ji-Pyeong didn’t have as much screen time. I also feel like there were some sub-plots that were highly unnecessary because they weren’t fleshed out well and felt disconnected like the friend’s brother who died and he wanted revenge, the whole Alex California 3 year time-jump thing. Like that really slowed down the show and made me go ???  The finale however redeemed the show for me!

There were solid side characters in this k-drama, something I generally appreciate about k-dramas as a whole. The character development was also solid and sweet. I think the one that most touched me was Seo/Won In-Jae’s character development. 

I found more depth in her character than even Seo Dal Mi’s. I loved how she changed her name and then visited her grandmother because she just couldn’t do that before it. I get it. I really do. I think we all take our time to do the things we should/want to and that’s completely okay.

Which brings me to the point that Seo Dal Mi, especially towards the second half, felt like a very basic character. I think she was perhaps the only one who didn’t have much development. I honestly didn’t even find her and Nam Do San’s romance to be great or swoon-worthy. 

The most touching connection for me in this kdrama was  Han Ji-Pyeong and halmeoni’s. Like OH MY GOD. Whether it was when he was a child or even as an adult, their scenes made me cry.

 It was the most wholesome, sincere relationship in the entire show! Whether it was her taking him in and thinking he would rob her money in the shop or him thinking that she gave away his investment profits to her son - and both of them being wrong. The scene at the bus station where she gives him a new pair of shoes and tells him only to contact him when he is upset/alone/ill. 

The fact that she calls him good boy. Ahhhhhh. EVERY bit of it. Like even in the finale when she goes to his house and breaks down when she recognises he is sad + lonely I couldn’t stop my tears!!!!! It’s like he can be his true self with halmeoni.

And can I just ramble on about Ji-Pyeong? Firstly his dimples. I can’t deal. 

Secondly his acting. Thirdly his dialogue and his character arc. The way he was so smart in investing and work. The way he could give real feedback and the way he could be honest with Nam Do-San at the end. Aso the fact that he asked him to stop feeling inferior - ahhhhh. Someone really needed to tell Do-San to feel confident and enough and the fact that Ji-Pyeong did that meanth EVERYTHING. Everything about Ji-Pyeong had my heart! His conversations with Yeong-Shila and his drunk moments. And everything in between. I am really heartbroken that he ended up alone. To be honest, by the end of it I really wanted him to end up with In-Jae. I think they as a couple would surprise all of us. 

I know this may be a controversial opinion but both In-Jae and Ji-Pyeong were such strong characters and I feel like they would have easily overpowered the actual first leads (individually and together) if some more attention was paid to them. Which is probably why it wasn’t? But I feel like had the writers of the show leaned more into these two characters. They were smart, mature, emotionally more complex and that’s probably one of my major disappointments with Start-Up. 

But anyhooo, I really appreciated that the last scene was Nam Do-San and Seo Dal-Mi walking to their investor meeting and not their wedding scene. Because yaaaas power couple! I also love how her being the CEO didn’t make Do-San feel inferior or have some sexist ego complex. 

Talking about other side characters I really appreciated Seo Dal Mi’s mom’s redemption. It warmed my heart. I loved how Nam DO San’s father at the end put up the Samsan Tech sign board in the living room and said that the next time he thinks his son is doing something he doesn’t approve of he will look at it 3 times and wait it out/support him? Jung Sa-Ha and Lee Chul-San’s romance appealed to me a lot more than the leads’ romance - no kidding. 

Some of my FAVOURITE scenes were between Nam Do-San and Ji-Pyeong. Like in one of the first few episodes when they are at that conference/party where Nam Do-San shows up as a hot-shot entrepreneur for Dal-Mi and then the two guys move aside to show that they are talking and know each other and Do-San is like what do we talk about? ANd Ji-Pyeong is like let’s just recite the national anthem! I DIED. And then at the end when he invests in Cheonymyeong and they shake hands, how initially Ji-Pyeong only shakes with his two fingers. They both individually and together were beautiful. 

Also can I just say how cool I found the founder and CEO of sandbox just struck me as the COOLEST woman? She’s the kind of person I’d want as my mentor and friend if I was starting a business. And Dal Mi-s father’s backstory is just so very s ad with him finally getting an investment but also like dying the very same day. Sandbox really feels in some way his legacy? 

And I also low-key found the relation between Ji-Pyeong and park Dong-Chun endearing. Like ho Dong-Chun aways recommends all these lovely start ups that aren’t really profitable but he just cannot resist it! And how Ji-Pyeong finally personally invests in the start up for kids who leave orphanages at 18 in the end :’) I was waiting for him to finally personally invest in something like this because he’s rich and he can and I loved it. More than the investing, his meeting with the CEO of that start up was funny and how he wasn’t harsh towards him and how also said he wants a few kids that he can mentor! My heart!

Nam Do-San. I love how he had SO many insecurities because I have always associated that with the female leads whether in kdramas or just generally in the world of fiction. And the fact that he didn’t have any toxic or abusive outlets for his issues is what made me adore him. The friendship between him and his two developer friends was also very heartwarming.

I did really like the business and entrepreneurship aspect of the show like how thye tried to include concepts like the J curve and why you should be a majority shareholder in your own business and what investors look for and stuff. Ofc I would have LOVED it to be more heavy on that aspect but I get that for the general viewership that probably wouldn’t have worked. 

One of the most striking things about Start Up was the relationship between the two sisters. I can’t tell you how much I was digging the fact that neither of them, especially Won In-Jae (at the time) tried to backstab or fuck things up for the other. Even though they had been away for a decade and clearly had made opposite choices in picking their parents and hence a lot of their life, they didn’t once sabotage the other. In fact, they were always concerned about the other when it really came down to it. And them reuniting and working together was a highlight for me. 

This is one of the few kdramas that got the finale done so beautifully. But since Ji-Pyeong’s 2020 life wasn’t really shown to us this is how I’m narrating it in my head. He and In-Jae get together and are this smart power-couple who can open up with each other and be soft and adorable. He also has formed meaningful connections with two kids who left the orphanage and their connection is as wholesome as his and halmeoni's. He and In-Jae live  together in his apartment facing Han River and keep cutely arguing over start up ideas and companies to invest in. Now any time he looks at Seo Dal Mi and Do San he feels friendly affection and this sort of protective vibe. He found some super eye specialist and got halmeoni's eye sight fixed. Her corn dog shop became a huge franchise cos plot twist In Jae and Dal Mi's mother is actually v strategic in business growth.

[miastideclock]

Yang Jeongin Drabble, “Inside Beauty.”

@jhopesdimples​ hello! im a new skz and bts blog and i found yours and have been reading all ur skz stuff at the moment. can i request a jeongin drabble where the reader is insecure about being older and slightly bigger than him? preferably filled with angst but a happy ending? it’s okay if not! keep writing it’s so good! 💖

-

Word Count: 1790 Warnings: Eating disorder, but not really??? I don’t know, but just in case it might be triggering, sorry

-

It had been a long day, and you were happy that you could spend the rest of the day hanging out with your boyfriend and your friends. More often than not you found yourself at the Stray Kids dorm, hanging out with the boys and having fun. That was how you ended up falling for Jeongin, and luckily- he returned the favor. 

After months of begging to management, they finally lifted the dating ban for the group, making all of them go over the moon. That included you, as that meant you could go public with Jeongin, the love of your life. 

You knew you weren’t perfect, but Jeongin loved you despite that, and that made you fall for him even more. 

It was no secret that you were on the heavier side, and it probably didn’t help that you were also taller than him. But when you were with Jeongin, you instantly forgot all of that. Or at least until Jeongin’s leader, Chan, got a girlfriend for himself.

She was two years younger than him, about five inches shorter than him, and easing in on the skinny side. She was super nice, and never did you any harm, but she made you think. 

“Would Jeongin prefer it if I was like her? Younger, shorter and all around smaller?” But everytime the thought crossed your mind, you forced it out. He loved you like you were, and nothing could change that. But still, you found yourself thinking whenever you were at the dorm.

“Come sit on my lap.” “Let me give you a piggyback ride!” “You’re so tiny and cute!”

Things you heard on a daily basis, but they were never to you. It was Chan talking to his girlfriend, Lacey. They were super cute together, you had to admit- but it got a bit frustrating at times, always comparing yourself to her. 

After a while, you found yourself skipping meals, and walking the long way to work. You would suggest going for walks rather than watching movies like you always did. Jeongin didn’t notice it at first, and much like a puppy-dog was just excited to spend time with you, whether it was on the couch or going for a walk. He did however, notice when your mood had dropped over the last few weeks. At first he connected it to stress at work, and figured you would talk to him if you needed to- that much he trusted you on. But when you never spoke about it, and you never got any happier, he got concerned. 

You were on a walk the first time Jeongin asked. 

“Y/N, are you okay?” 

It had caught you off guard as he had cut himself off to ask you. You had originally talked about his upcoming schedule, but he figured work talk could wait until later. 

“Yeah, I’m good! Why’re you asking?” You lied through your teeth. You weren’t okay, but you couldn’t tell him. He wouldn’t understand. He had hundred of thousands of girl confessing their undying love for him every single day. They praised him like a god, kept telling him he was perfect just the way he was and that he should never change. He could never understand the feeling of not being good enough.

“Just wondering. Maybe my Spidey-senses are off.” He chuckled and continued to swing your hand back and forth as you walked through the park. 

Another week passed before the topic came up again. You were sleeping over at the dorm as they had nothing scheduled for the next morning, however, you found yourself wide awake at two am. You had tried to force your eyes shut for the past three hours, but to no avail. You eventually gave up and made your way to the kitchen, careful not to wake up your boyfriend, who was sleeping soundly next to you. 

You wanted to make yourself a cup of hot tea to maybe soothe you into sleep, but you forgot where they kept the kettle. After looking through about seventy-five percent of the cupboards, you heard footsteps creep up behind you. You turned around and met the face of a might confused and sleepy Lacey. Chan’s girlfriend.

“Hey, sorry. Did I wake you?” You asked in a whisper, her quickly shaking her head. 

“Oh don’t worry! I was looking to make myself some tea. I assume that’s what you’re doing as well?” She spoke, a smile prominent on her lips.

Lacey was one of the sweetest girls you had ever met, which made the situation even more annoying- because god knows you wanted to dislike her. Dislike her for making you doubt yourself, and even worse- making you doubt Jeongin.

“Yeah, but I forgot where they keep the kettle.” You smiled sheepishly. Lacey chuckled and opened one of the cupboards you had already looked through. “I don’t know why they feel the need to hide it, like if they’re getting robbed, I hardly think this will be the first thing they’d steal.” She snickered and pulled the kettle out from the very back. 

Silence overcame you as she filled it with water and plugged it into the wall. The soft sound of silence blended well with the heating water, it eventually coming to a boil. 

“Would you like milk or sugar?” You asked as you prepared two cups, each with a teabag. You had silently assigned each task, as Lacey watched the kettle and you grabbed the tea.

“I actually have it with a teaspoon of honey! You have to try it, it’s so yummy.” She beamed, grabbing the honey that was sat on the counter. You nodded and let her put the honey in each of the cups before pouring in the boiling water. 

After you had cleared away the equipment and the things you had used, you both grabbed your respected cups and headed to the living room, sitting down on the couch before kick-starting another conversation.

“I know we don’t know each other all that well, but maybe it even helps that we’re borderline strangers. Are you alright these days? I’m so sorry if I come off as intrusive, it’s just that the boys have talked about you acting a bit off lately, and they don’t really know how to go about it.” Lacey spoke in her soft voice, a bit of an accent shining though, but you couldn’t place it. 

Her words hit you harder than you had originally anticipated, making tears burn at the brim of your eyes. 

“I don’t know, Lacey.” Your voice broke and you quickly shifted your gaze from her down to your cup of steaming tea. You weren’t okay, and you knew that. You hadn’t been okay for a while. At first, you thought your insecurities had just been an inconvenience, and nothing more. But as time went by, you found it eating you up from the inside. No matter what it was, you always thought about how you looked, especially compared to Jeongin, and how you were scared to talk to him about it. 

So that was exactly what you told Lacey. And before you knew it, you were crying, as was she when she confessed her own insecurities and issues. It ended up with both of you having to put down your cups on the table, because you were both crying and shaking. 

“I know exactly what you’re feeling, babe. Every single day, we have to look at all of those beautiful fans and its only natural for us to compare ourselves! But I do know one thing. Jeongin loves you just as much as you love him, maybe even more. And yes those fans are beautiful- but as are you. So talk to him, maybe he’ll understand.” Lacey finally spoke after you both had controlled your breathing.

You gave her a hug, and decided it was better to do it now, despite the fact that it was almost four am. If you didn’t do it now, who knows when you’d muster up the courage to do it.

Sneaking back into his room, you closed the door carefully behind you, then made your way over to the bed. Sitting down on the edge you carefully shook his body. “Babe, Jeongin? I need to talk to you.” 

He quickly stirred awake, confused and tired. “What’s going on? Y/N, are you okay?” He suddenly came to it, scared for your wellbeing. 

“Actually, I’m not, and that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I know you asked me a few times last week if I was doing okay, and I lied. I haven’t been doing good for a while. It was like everything hit me all at once, and I don’t know what to say. It’s no secret I’m bigger than you, and that’s never bothered me until recently. I keep seeing all of your beautiful fans, and I keep thinking ‘wow, he has a lot of options. I wonder how long it’ll take before he find someone prettier and better than me. I feel like just a detail in your picture, you know?” You were crying again at this point, and Jeongin looked at you with all the sorrow in the world as he held your hand and listened to you. 

He would never have guessed that was why you had been upset. You always carried yourself with such grace and confidence, it made him swoon. 

“Y/N, baby. Why didn’t you tell me earlier? You know something like that will never happen. Sure, we have pretty fans, but they are nothing compared to you. You are my everything, and even though you are the most breathtaking person I have ever seen, it’s not that that made me fall in love with you. It’s your inside beauty. Your inside beauty shines through your whole self, making you stand out. Not like the flower-crown in a boy’s hair, or the diamonds around a woman’s neck. You are stunning, and so much more than just a detail, you are the picture. You are the view. You can easily be compared to a sunset, or the starry sky a late night, but you are so much more than that too. Both outside and inside beauty like yours is so much rarer than that. You are the northern lights people travel long and far to see. You Y/N, you are unique in the best possible way.” 

You were sobbing, to say the least. Jeongin had even shed a few tears, heartbroken that his baby was hurting. He then quickly pulled you into a hug, holding you tight as you both cried, no longer sad tears, but happy ones.

You couldn’t believe how insanely lucky you were to have someone like him in your life, and that you could call him yours.

“I love you.”

I really hope you like it! 

Feel free to request more!!

-bentley

[akvtsuki-ari]

Sweetheart (Ch.2)

Warnings: smut!, choking, uhh insecuity maybe??, sub!spencer, dom!reader, talks of bdsm protocol

Length: 4.2k 

Authors Note: heyyy yall. i feel like i haven’t uploaded in DAYS idk why. another chapter of this fic bc i love it a lot but my next fic will be a dom!spence oneshot that i can’t get out of my head lol. this chapter is kinda open conversation

Plot Summary: Spencer can’t stop thinking of you but he’s too nervous to do anything about it. You’ve got doubts that only he can fix and he has questions only you can answer. Spencer really likes being choked, apparently. 

Ch. 1

Look at you baby, your lashes are so long, aren't they? Such a pretty boy," your voice rings out softly in Spencer's ears. A light sheen of sweat coats his chest as he feels your fingers around his dick, his throat caught - words disappearing from him.

"Fuck - please, Miss I'm gonna -," Spencer's voice is broken when he feels an orgasm wash over him.

Then of course, Spencer wakes up. Sunlight hitting his eyes as he blinks himself awake. He can feel it in his pajama pants, still not having registered the content of his dream before he looks down to see the massive mess. It's managed to happen a 3rd time, and its only been a week. Spencer shuts his eye in disdain as he stands up, pulling his pants off and tossing them in a hamper before he heads into the shower.

Spencer hates cold showers, he remember this fact as the water beats down on his back as he washes himself up. He washes his hair while he tries to compartmentalize the situation.

Like Spencer mentions, it's the 3rd time he's had a dream that wakes him up in such a pleasant way. You two had been dating for 2 ish months now, but Spencer chokes everytime you try and take things further. You never give him shit for it, which is more than relieving to him. You always reassure him that the two of you can take your time and that it's okay if he doesn't want it right away.

You were an angel, he knew that for sure but Spencer did want it. He was just, well - as nervous as a person could be. He still hasn't really talked to you about any of that, not about how it would work the first time the two of you did.. it. He didn't even know if you still wanted that - he'd been too petrified to ask if you still wanted to dominate him or if maybe that'd change now that you actually knew him. He didn't even know how to bring it up, or if there was a time for him to do just that. The whole thing filled him with such intense anxiety, he just didn't bring it up at all.

But, he wants to go further with you. He likes you so fucking much - of course he wanted to go further with you. He figured you knew that.

You didn't, really. You figured Spencer found you unattractive to some extent so he just kept putting off sleeping with you. It felt like a juvenile insecurity to have but well - he always reacts so poorly anytime you take this further. You knew he was anxious but there was always that self-loathing voice that told you that it was your fault, that he just didn't find you attractive enough. You pretended it didn't hurt since you like him so much, but it was starting to take it's toll.

On both ends, it was a fucking mess. Neither of you really knew why it was a mess for the other person, but it sure was one.

Spencer gets out of the shower when he hears a knock on the door. His eyes flit up to his analog clock on the wall, you were here right in time, Spencer thinks. He throws on an oversized sweater and some jeans that you bought for him. He liked them but he only really wore them cause you like them so much.

Spencer can't help the butterflies that fill his stomach when he sees you. Your eyes are dolled up in this pretty dark eye shadow, and red lipstick. You're pretty, dark and pretty but still pretty. The makeup was just new. Spencer feels like he's choking as he looks at your smiling expression Spencer shuts the door behind you as he lets you in.

"You ready to get brunch?," you ask Spencer. He dries his hair off and finds something to style it with as he walks back into the bathroom. All stuff that's new that you've introduced him too. He likes using the stuff that you told him to use though cause it makes his hair look less greasy.

"Yeah, but we've got some time before then - right?," Spencer ask. You smile and nod your head as you walk up behind Spencer, wrapping your arms around his waist. He feels small - your actual size unimportant to the way you make him feel. You pat his sweater down, hands dangerously close to his waist as you look at him, eyes gleaming. You give him a small grin when you peak over, as Spencer's eyes meet yours in a small blush. Your hands find themselves underneath his sweater, brushing his waist as you sway into him. Spencer focuses so much on doing his hair, just trying not to get hard.

"What should we do in that time?," you ask, mostly to yourself. You know Spencer probably won't do what you were thinking of doing. Spencer just blushes before shrugging, finished fixing up his hair as he moves away from your touch. You're a little hurt, not tryng to let it show as he walks back out into his living room, you following suit.

"I think they're playing some animal planet re-reruns," Spencer suggests. You give Spencer a small, half-hearted smile.

"Yeah sure," you say softly. You don't mean to be disappointed because you really do respect Spencer boundaries. You don't ever wanna do something that he's not a 100% down for and you just like him so much it doesn't matter. You had to admit though - god, you wanted to fuck his brains out and the fact that he may not return those feelings hurt a little more than your ego wanted to admit. Spencer seems to sense your disheartened demeanor, and with trying to ignore his immediate panic he looks over to you as you lean into him on the couch. He moves away from you for a few moments to look at you, and you turn to him confused.

"Are you okay?," Spencer asks concern. You give him a small smile and nod, taking his hands in yours and playing with his fingers. Spencer looks at you for a while longer before you begin to talk.

"It's nothing serious - it's kinda silly actually, so we don't -,"

"Hey," Spencer pauses. You look up at him, his eyes so full of concern. You can't help the way your heart melts, leaning up to meet Spencer's lips for a second. You look at the clock, still a good hour before the two of you have your plans. You sigh, looking down into your lap before you speak.

"I just wanna say first, that I totally respect any and all of your boundaries regarding sex - and I would never, ever pressure you into something you don't wanna do," you say slowly. Spencers nerves crawl up his back but he waits for you to continue.

"But uhm, well - I don't know, I guess I just wanna know if you still, well or if you ever wanted to sleep with me. Like ah, you know, maybe you found me unattractive. I mean, I get it - I guess I'd uhm, just wanna know beforehand," you trail off, unsure of how to say your comments. Spencers a little incredulous - did you genuinely think the reason he'd been avoiding sex was because you weren't attractive to him? Spencer just shakes his head violently, wanting to say so much but not wanting to scare you away with his words.

"Well, uhm - no it's not that at all. I think you're super attractive, and I defintely want to.. you know - with you I mean," Spencer starts, feeling the way your hand tightens around his instinctevely. This the most vunerable you've been with Spencer in your relationship so he wants to make sure you know how much he cares

"I have dreams about it, like all the time recently. I really like you, and I really do think you're very beautiful, I guess I'm just - nervous, you know? I don't know what to do, especially since we've never done that before and we met under such.. interesting circumstances. I don't know how to approach it,"

"You have wet dreams about me?," you say, a little too excited for your own good. Spencer blushes before nodding.

"Huh, I just openly admitted that didn't I? To answer your question, yes - I had one before you came over," Spencer remembers. You give him a cheeky grin and he hides his face in his head, groaning. You only laugh, pull them away before kissing his knuckles. You were more than pleased to hear this info. You stand and sit down in Spencers lap, hands on the side of his face. He gives you a small, gentle smile.

"It's okay if you're not ready to talk about sex at all, but it may help if we cover general BDSM code and standard. Nothing has to be decided or talked about if you don't want, but maybe just going over it will ease your mind up," you say softly to Spencer. His nerves settles as you continue to reassure him - your behavior is so perfectly soothing. The hand on his back, the softness in your voice and your reassurance, Spencer knew you were experienced but he was still impressed. Spencer just nods, letting you pepper kisses all over his face that made his expression scrunch up. Cute. Spencer was so cute.

"Yeah, that sounds good," Spencer manages to push out. You give him a warm smile. You move away to sit next to him, still maintaining physical contact but clearly becoming more serious.

"The most important thing to know is that everyone practices BDSM differently. There are two common standard procedures that people use, however - safe, sane, and consensual is the most common. It's just saying that both parties are participating in something that is just as it implies, and it prioritizes safety. Knowing you, I'm sure you've read up on most of this, but it doesn't hurt to explain," you say softly. Spencer nods, he did already know a lot of what you were talking about.

"The other is 'Risk-Aware Consensual Kink,' which is where both parties are participating in something they knew could have consequences that are harmful. In both situations - both parties need to be aware and understand the lengths of whatever they're participating in. It's the core of all BDSM practice, and since this is all new for you - let me be clear that your safety and sanity come first to me always. BDSM is a psychological thing at heart so making sure you're okay is firs priority," you clarify. Spencer is in awe by how.. well-spoken you were about it. He knew you were experienced but it was more than you let on. Spencer just nods, unsure of what to say.

"You've actually done this before, but the same goes for me - you know," Spencer adds. You give him a sweet kiss which he returns.

"Thank you, love. With all that, the way you assure someone's safety is obviously having discussions about limits but also by developing a safeword and system to make sure that a scene can stop at any point. It's especially important to make sure that those words are a out of place. You shouldn't use words like "Stop," or "No," as safewords because in some peoples play they refuse something as a part of foreplay or a part of the scene. Maybe a submissive whose being bratty is refusing something but they're okay with it happening - thats when a safeword can come in. If a partner at any point wants to tap out, they use that word," you explain.

Spencer nods in understanding, he didn't even think about people using those words for the purposes of foreplay or whatever else. He gives you a curious look, as you lean back. Instinctively, Spencer moves himself to lay his head on your lap which you'd sorta pavloved onto him. You'd always pat your lap when you wanted Spencer to do it, and at first it was so embarrassing but you'd do it so much he just sorta got used to it. You run your hands through his hair, the other one on his chest. His face is a little hot.

"For me, I like the stoplight system - Red meaning stop completely, yellow meaning slow down and let's talk about this, and green meaning go, I'm totally down for this. I like that system because it's a lot easier to get a sense of how the other person wants the scene to go, and if I want to try something, I can ask my submissive 'Color?,' and they can respond however they like. If they say yellow, I can break character and ask them whats up which can give them some real reassurance. Every submissive is different, but this sytem is really universal and easy to keep up with, " you say lovingly, patting Spencers chest rhythmically. You look down at his expression with serious eyes.

"Listen to me carefully when I say this my love - if we participate in a scene and there is a single doubt about what's happening, you use one of your safewords no questions asked. Using your words with me or any other signals may discuss is so important and it doesn't make you a bad submissive - okay? We are equals, always. Even if you want me to step on you, or call you pathetic - we are still equals and always will be, okay pretty boy?," you say in a stern, but loving voice. Spencer just nods, softly - so far he doesn't have many questions though he's sure that'll change at some point. Spencer nods, leaning his face into your hand as you cup his cheek. You lean down and place a kiss on his lips.

"I know I've been talking a lot, but lemme hear your thoughts, yeah? Anything," you ask Spencer.

"It's weird - I've done so much research on safe BDSM practices and understand all this stuff in theory but it seems so different in practice," Spencer comments lightly. You nod, letting him continue.

"One thing that I did notice was that you use If/When scenarios about you dominating me and I wasn't really sure what that was about. We are girlfriend and boyfriend, doesn't that sorta just imply you are my dom?," Spencer asks. You give him a pat on the chest before you go into explanation.

"It certainly helps that we're dating but you and your submission is something to be earned. We've never discussed in length until today, but of course - I was hoping that you'd want that from me. It's really just like an everyday relationship, but a lot more involved in trust and respect. We have a strong romantic connection which is really lovely, because it builds a lot of that trust and respect that you need to practice BDSM healthily and safely. I wanna lead you so I can see you grow, and hopefully, you wanna submit to me out of respect - those sorts of things,"  you say, playing with Spencer's hands. Spencer just nods, looking up at you.

"Will you be my dom, then? I want you to be. I don't think I could really imagine it being anyone else," Spencer asks out of the blue. You weren't expecting the question so suddenly, or the way your heart rips through your chest hearing it. It's so simple and innocent when Spencer asks.

"I mean, I'd love too but are you really sure? I mean -," you try to think of a reason for Spencer to say no but you really cant. Spencer just smiles at you, sitting up to look at you completely.

"I trust you so much because I know you'd never do anything to hurt me on purpose - I mean unless I asked but, you know what I mean. I'm more sure than I was about asking you to be my girlfriend because you're just a trustworthy person. You're smart and kind and lovely all around. I know I'm new to this but theres no one I trust more than you to teach me. I really like you," Spencer says warmly. You wrap your arms around him, avoiding the tears in your eyes. Spencer is so sweet, reassuring by nature and it makes your heart yearn.

"Well, then - yes, I'd love to be your dom. And to answer your question about what we do for the first time, it'll be rather purely vanilla. No hijinks, just regular sex - since it's your first time partaking in BDSM with someone else, we gotta go really slowly so you don't have to worry. It might make you a little impatient but have faith in the process," you explain softly. Spencer is relishing in the fact that you know so much - you seem to have such a tight grasp on what you were doing he had no urges to question you. You lead so naturally, you don't demand anything from him but still, Spencer follows you. Spencer would follow you into the darkness if you kept speaking to him like that.

"We'll discuss things slowly and we'll make it really easy, okay? Once I get to know you a little more in bed, we can plan and talk about our first scene. It takes time to figure this stuff out, you know," You play with Spencers hair as you look over to the clock. 27 ish minutes before you two went out for brunch. Spencer sits up, face flush as he opens his mouth to try and ask you for what he wanted - now that he knew what was on the table his mind was thinking of everything he was missing. All the touches he was aching for you to give him. Spencers eyes were a little lost as he tries to explain to you.

"Can we -? I mean, would you, you know - uhm," Spencer voice can't get the words out. You give Spencer a small smile as he leans back into the couch. You pull your dress up, straddling Spencer's lap, and Spencer's throat dries up. He can't speak as he feels your heat up against his jeans. He's hard nearly immediately, a painful feeling for his dick up against the tight denim. Spencer stares up at you startled, a playful smile on your face. You place your hands on Spencers chest, feeling him up before settling your hands on the side of his face base of his neck. You lean in slowly, breath brushing Spencers ears as he heart pounds against his chest. His body felt a little out of control, and you just seemed to be so comfortable Spencer didn't know how to deal. He's so aware of the where your fingers seem to linger around his neck - he wants to blurt out "Choke me, please," but the words seems to disappear when he opens his mouth.

"You want me to touch you, Spencer?," you ask softly. Spencer nods violently and you can't help but laugh, maintaining eye contact for a few agonizing seconds. You lean in to kiss Spencer as your hands work the zipper of his jeans, your fingers making indirect contact with Spencer's cock. He whines aloud - he's sensitive, apparently. You can't help your pleased reaction as you pull his erection of his boxers - the tip is swollen, you can feel it ache under your touch. Spencer's eyes roll up in the back of his head, despite you having barely done anything for him at all.

"How fast do you think you can get off, baby?,"

Baby. Fuck, Spencer liked when you called him that. It was so natural to you, and Spencer just sighs.

"Fast," Spencer admits, a little embarrassed. He'd never needed to cum that quickly before in his life, yet here you were making him feel like he'd break at any second if you touch him too long. He was an adult but the thought of having sex with his girlfriend made him feel like he was gonna fucking combust.

"I cum first today, hope that's okay with you," you tell Spencer warmly. He gives you a nod, he's more than okay with that. You guide his wrist under your dress, feeling his hands palm through your panties. You moan quietly, and Spencers pleased with himself. It's hard for you to not just tell him to lay back so you can sit on his face - because god did you wanna do that.

"You lead the way," you joke to Spencer, more just telling him that he has permission to do his thing. Spencer just nods, as you lean into his neck to bite hickies into it. Spencers hands are careful with you, two fingers pressed against your clit as he rubs circular motions, his other hand holding your waist steady.

"A little faster, love," you ask Spencer. He just nods as he hears your voice, soft sighs falling from your lips as you feel your orgasm build in your core. Spencer likes you so much, he's so eager to please you in every way so when you finally reach your orgasm, Spencer doesn't hesitate on letting you ride out your high. His dick is pulsating against your thigh, as you finish up and flutter your eyes open to look at him. Spencer gives you a small smile, eyes looking for your approval as you give him a lazy smile.

Spencer watches you pick your bag up from the couch, laughing as he sees you pull out a condom. He gives you a look of surprise and you just shrug, rolling it on for him.

Your lipsticks mostly on but smudged a bit as you kiss Spencer, lifting your hips up before settling back around Spencer's cock. You feel so good around him, the feeling of your lingering orgasm gripping him tight makes him choke. You ride Spencer with ease, hands around the base of his neck. Fuck - Spencer wants you to choke him so bad.

"Choke me, please," Spencer spits out. You give Spencer a look.

"Are you sure, love?,"

Spencer strains for a second, feeling his orgasm coming at him full speed before squeezing out another "please". You debate for a second, but you figure non-kinky couples do this all the time and you tighten your hands around the base of his neck.

Spencer relishes the way the air leaves his lungs and doesn't return. He loves the way you look at him when you do it, the way you adore how much he's under control. He tries to calm down but before he can think, his orgasm shoots up his spine as he looks at you pleadingly. You purposefully clench around him and Spencer's leg twitches underneath you. Your grip on his neck releases immediately and he misses the feeling of you around his neck, cumming into the condom with a heavy sigh.

"I really like you," Spencer breathes out as you cum. You bubble up with laughter as you kiss his cheek, a little red pair of lips sitting on it. He goes to wipe it off but you stop his hand, grabbing his wrist.

"Leave it," you say, an edge to your voice. Spencer can't help but nod, touching it carefully as you slip off of him. You pull off the condom for Spencer, throwing it in the trashcan of his bathroom before heading to his bathroom with your bad. Spencer follows suit, wiping himself clean with a wet-wipe before tucking himself back into his jeans. Spencer watches you fix your makeup in the mirror, as he clings onto you in the mirror.  You turn to him, wetting your lips before kissing that same spot, then using your little brush to put powder on it. You smile, leaning up to kiss him on the lips. He wraps his arms around your waist instinctively.

"Now it'll stay put. And, I really like you too," you say, rubbing his back as he hugs you. He may have been tall but he clings to you like a big baby. It was so damn endearing.

Spencer's heart beats so loudly in his chest. You were so lovely, you smelled good, and tasted nice and were so sweet to Spencer. Spencer liked you so fucking much, he just wanted to stay like this forever and the best part was you liked Spencer too. The way you rubbed his back, soothing him and humming as you gave him the affection he always dreamed of made him feel more happy than he could imagine. When he pulls away and you look at him, you place your hands on the side of his face and smile.

"You're so pretty, doc," you say. Doc - you only called him that when you felt affectionate. Spencer blushes.

"So are you,"

If you two didn't have a brunch reservation, Spencer was sure the two of you would stay like this forever. Not that he really minded, anyway.

[one-piece-dumpster-fire]

Hello! Please Headcanon : Kid, X Drake, Law and Katakuri with their girlfriends who have a complex with their small boobs (soft and NSFW) ;) :*

Hey love :D Aww that’s a cool idea xD! But since it would exceed my characterlimit to do both seperate sfw and dirty headcanon for this, I kind of merged it together into one headcanon hehe xD Hope that’s okay^^

here goes a warning for mild dirt ahead~!

Having a girlfriend with a complex about her small boobs headcanon

Eustass Kid

you’re not the only one who’s got a‘little’ problem with your boobs here…

jk jk, but when you first took off yourshirt infront of him, Kid was half-expecting to be greeted by some big ol'bazongas hecould bury his face inbetween… so seeing them for the first time, the pirate couldn’t help but blurt out something like „that’s it?“ god can he be an insensitive prick sometimes

it’s not the end of the world though-boobs are boobs, and whether yours are small or huge, he’ll definitely be ableto make the most use out of it! As a wise man once said, ‘the smaller the marshmallows, the more sugar you can find inside’- a wisdom Kid lives by from now on

sure, having some soft, big pillows tosqueeze and hold onto would be nice too, but your bust being a bitsmaller is actually somewhat special! Given how every woman on theGrandline is equipped with a deadly pair of water balloons upfront, thiscould actually be something different and exciting!

besides, he can even cup a whole boob of yours in his single hand! I repeat, your whole boob fits in his hand- it’s almost like they were made for it!

about your complex though… he’sreally not very helpful when it comes to supporting you and getting rid of yourinsecurities

at first Kid might even suggest for youto buy a push-up bra or get something to put inside of it (if that makes youfeel any better), only to later realize that his insensitive comments might onlyfurther push your negative perception of your chest

aaargh, woman and their sensitive body images! If nothing else works, then he’ll just be blunt and tellyou that he enjoys your little pillows, regardless of their size- andyou should too!

now, as for being naughty… there are justso many ways for the pirate to tease you, it’s like a whole new world of possibilities! Kid isused to big-busted women, so he actually has somewhat of a challengehere and needs to thoroughly explore all of his options to get max satisfaction! Oh lord, there will be so much poking and groping and slapping and squishing and rubbing….

and since they are so smol he simply loves to roughly grope them and squeeze themagainst each other, basically creating a little crack he can bury his nose in hey hey, it’s almost like with big boobs!

X Drake

this almost feels like a blessing from above, not gonna lie

look, he appreciates big boobs just as much as the next guy, but they just make the Dino so damnnervous. Like, where should you even start touching them??? When isit too much? When too little? What if he accidentally breaks them orhurts you

your smaller breasts are just so…handy. Literally. Plus, he can easily touch them while also observing yourreaction- bigger hooters often tend to obscure his vision a bit, and so Drake can never really 100% tell how his partner feels unless he lifts his head and looks them in the face… and that can really tear one out of the moment. Especially when you’re looking for reassurance rather often, like he is

now it’s not that he would particularly mind if they were bigger, but you’re just perfect to him the wayyou are! And after all, everything got its pros and cons, right?

so… he wouldn’t really understand whyyou seem so unhappy with your breasts

Drake is definitely supportive and readyto do everything to make you feel comfortable in your own skin. If it might help, then the Dino would even accompany you whenever you need to go underwear shopping! But of course he’d almost passout when you try them on and show him the garments 

at the end of day you could even beabsolutely flat and he wouldn’t mind- it’s not the size that mattersto him, but the reaction he gets from touching them

…. and ohhhh boy, does he love touching them! One day, with a super flustered expression oh his face, Drake might even admit that to you- perhaps himbeing honest about how much he appreciates your body could help boost yourconfidence a bit!

in bed he’s usually a bit of anall-rounder and wouldn’t necessarily dwell on a certain body part ofyours, but with the knowledge of your little ‘complex’ he usuallytakes some extra time to tend to your chest and show you just howmuch he adores it

Drake is always trying to be very soft with your breasts. There are lots of sweet kisses and gentle sucking, sometimes he even sniffs them- it’s just so comforting to have your boobs close to his face, and more than once will the Dino need to hold himself back from just straight-up marking them!

Trafalgar Law

he’s a bit 50/50 on it- like Kid, Lawalso got a thing for rather big jingles, but your boobs being smallerin size is no real issue for him

I mean, at least you have boobs. And they’re still very pretty. What more could he ask for…?

any worries coming from you will simply beshrugged off at first. You got a wonderful body and not a single health-related problem concerning your chest, so ittakes quite a bit until Law actually catches on to the real issue and realizes just how much having small boobs bothers you

ahh yes, the surgeon can see what might be going on here- the common belief that‘a woman needs big breasts in order to be attractive’ strikes yet again

on one hand he can understand whyhaving smaller breasts, especially in a place like the boob-equippedGrandline, could make you feel less confident, but have you everconsidered this- he doesn’t care

Law has always been more about brainsrather than body, and in his opinion you actually got both. Why would he careabout your boobs not being as bloated and jiggly as most women’s are…?Infact, this actually sets you aside from the crowd!

they’re also a great example of your bodybeing 100% healthy and well proportioned, something not everyone can say for themselves on these seas. But the point Law is trying to make here is- don’t. worry. about. your. breasts.

…however if that doesn’t help and you continue to be sad because of it, then the surgeon would eventually offer you surgery. Not thathe’d want that to happen, but it’s your decision to make and Law wants you tofeel confident with yourself

in bed though, he’s… perhaps a bit roughwith them. Unlike Drake who got all soft once he found out about yourinsecurities, Law will actually use this knowledge to further tease and edgeyou on!

he’s obviously testing your boundaries and wants to push you to the point where you’ll just go ‘fuck it’ and enjoy your breasts for what they are- little pillows stored with lots of energy and desire

Katakuri

the immediate need to protect his small boobed gfis strong in this one

first time you show him, he almost bursts withadoration. Is it wrong of him to think that you are just absolutelypretty and adorable…? Every single inch of your body is perfect for him, both inshape as well as size

okay, but then again- Katakuri is basically a giant compared to you, so him finding you adorable is kind of mandatory

especially because he adores you so much, Katakuri will immediately shut down any negativity regardingyour boob size before you can even open your mouth. You and yourboobs are wonderful the way they are, so don’t even think about complaining about them around him!

however, he isn’t going to just shut you down when you’re feeling really doubtful of yourself. Perhaps getting another opinion on this matter might be helpful- we all know that most of his sisters were also blessed with large bazookas, but they all got some insecurities of their own to share as well

and hereby Charlotte Katakuri indirectly founded the Tottland self-help group therapy- a rare event where people can gather to help each other with their problems and insecurities. And he did this all to help you get over your own worries

in his eyes, small boobs are nothing to be ashamedof- look, he’s got his imperfections too, but you are by far better thanthis! So don’t you ever hide them, especially from him

he’s pretty blunt about how much heloves their soft feeling and how he can basically devour them wholeand at the same time with his mouth- oh Katakuri just loves to see you blush as aresult of his dirty words, and hopefully this will distract you or make you feel a bit better!

and if you think that he isn’t going to try out some good old fashioned foodplay on them, then you got another thing coming- as long as you’re okay with it, he’d love to use your chest and abdomen as serving tray for his donuts. In fact, he might even directly eat the sugary treats off of your skin if you’re comfortable with it- not only could that help with you overcoming your worries, but it also shows how okay he is with openly using his biggest imperfection- his deformed mouth- while being intimate with you! 

not to mention aaaaaall the body worship. Katakuri ain’t gonna stop being an absolute sweetheart until you’re 100% comfortable and proud with your body, just how he likes it. After all, that’s certainly when you’re at your very hottest!

[moonstruckbucky]

Come Over (6/7)

Summary: You’re new to New York City. Fresh out of post-grad and wanting a change of pace, and this change comes in more ways than one.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader. Neighbor AU.

Warnings for Chapter: ....Smut. There’s smut ahead. And this is fucking long. And I’m sorry?

Notes: It’s the penultimate chapter, guys! I can’t even believe it. I would really, really love some feedback on this one! Enjoy x

Series Masterlist //  Main Masterlist

Bucky is early the morning of Thanksgiving. The knock itself is quiet, as if he’s pulled his knuckles back too soon. Still it startles you, has your hand jumping and nearly impaling your eye with the mascara wand.

A hissed “dammit”, you set it down, double-check your eye that it hadn’t smeared, hurry to the door as that soft knock sounds again. All the air leaves your lungs in a whoosh. Being his neighbor, you’ve seen him in various states of dress, but never like this.

Hunter green looks good on him, you decide. The satiny material looks about ready to give where it’s stretched across his broad chest. A flat plain of forestry you want to trace and memorize with hands and tongue. Dark charcoal dress pants wrap tightly around his thick thighs, and your mouth waters. Shiny black dress shoes cap off the outfit. Your neighbor is a tall drink of water and goddamn are you parched. Subconsciously you lick your lips.

His clearing throat jostles you, eyes snapping up to his. They’re glittering, those crystalline eyes of his that pull you in like a lighthouse beacon. The edge of his mouth is turned upward, a sure sign that you’ve been caught ogling him, too lost in the beauty of him to notice he’d done the same to you.

You cough lightly, poorly covering yourself. “You’re early. C’mon in. I’ll be done in twenty.”

His body brushes by yours as you step to the side, cocoons you in his warmth and a clean, fresh scent with a hint of spice. Eyes flutter closed, deep breath in and then out to compose yourself, give yourself the confidence to get through today without ending up a puddle on the floor. Bucky’s seated on the couch, flipping through a magazine with Tony Stark on the cover. It’s the newest issue—the first publication of the upcoming “super suit” demo and he flips right to it, already engrossed.

You duck past him back to the bathroom to finish getting ready. A few more touches to your makeup, a pair of black tights, black boots, and a light jacket, and you’re ready. Bucky turns his head when he hears your heels on the floor, eyes widening just a fraction, but you notice. You notice everything when it comes to him. He rises slowly, and it’s almost comical. Like that scene in a teen romance where the girl, in her beautiful prom dress, descends the stairs and her date is rendered speechless, jaw dropped, eyes full of adoration.

“You, uh.” Voice cracks, clears his throat, tries again. “You look really nice.”

Your smile is easy, gentle, a little bashful as your cheeks flush. “Thanks, Bucky. Shall we?”

His answering grin is just as bright, just as easy, as natural. He holds out his elbow. “We shall.”

The drive to your parents’ is spent chatting back and forth, mostly about the new projects you’re allowed to talk about. Bucky’s enthusiasm is addicting, makes it easy for you to just keep going. You almost feel badly about doing all of the talking, but the excitement on his face covers it up, and his responding questions are eager and hurried, like he can’t get them out fast enough. Conversation with Bucky is easy. He makes it easy.

You’ll come to realize later that Sharon is far from both of your minds. So far, nothing could sour this day.

Clint and your family are extremely welcoming when the two of you arrive. Clint takes your coat and purse, claps Bucky on the back and leaves you to do the introductions. Your mother raises an eyebrow, aims it at the two of you and inquires how long Bucky’s been seeing her daughter. Matching blushes creep up your necks and without thinking, you take a step sideways, put space between you because you hadn’t realized just how close you’d been standing to him.

“Mom, we’re—we’re not dating. He, uh, he has—”

“I’m her neighbor,” Bucky interjects with a charming smile. The look on your mother’s face clearly says yeah, right, but she moves the conversation along, asks Bucky about his work and gets lost in his stories about the tattoo shop.

Clint comes up behind you, where you’ve moved to the small bar in the kitchen and have poured yourself a hefty glass of wine. Judging by the sly, fleeting looks your mother sends you, you’re going to need it.

“Mom seems to be digging in the claws,” Clint murmurs, pulling from his beer. You hum around your wine glass. “She doesn’t buy the neighbor bit, does she?”

“How could you tell?” you deadpan. Despite your concern your mother will spill something she’s not meant to, you’re relieved Bucky seems to fit in with your family.

Your parents have hogged him mostly, though Clint’s stepped in here and there to help him along, but his eyes are never far from you. Every few minutes they’ll find you, sparkle under the dim kitchen lighting, before he looks away again to give your family his full attention again. Once or twice, he sends a wink that warms your body more than your wine does. Oh boy, are you in trouble.

Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it), Sam arrives not too long after to break up the growing tension between Bucky and you. He greets Bucky excitedly, hugs him like he would a brother, offers him another beer from the fridge that Bucky accepts. The grin on Bucky’s face, the rumbling echo of his laughter, the lightness in his features all do horrible, horrible things to your belly and your heart, and you have to duck out of the room and find Laura, distract yourself, before you do something stupid.

She must see it on your face when you drop beside her on the couch in the living room. Cheeks rosy red, and not just from the wine, pupils dilated just a bit with a few tiny beads of sweat at your hairline. Laura and Clint had been together off and on since high school, until your brother manned up and proposed to her while out on their anniversary date. He’d taken her on a whale watch in Nantucket, something she’d always wanted to do. She said yes through a bout of sea sickness.

“You’ve got it bad,” she tsks, the ring on her left finger sparkling and tinkling against her wine glass. You groan.

“Don’t remind me.”

“Why’s he with that she-witch again?”

You hurry to shush her, glance over your shoulder to make sure you’re not heard. “Jesus, Laura. I don’t know why, okay? From what he’s told me they don’t even click anymore. Except...in the bedroom, which I can hear usually.”

Laura’s frown is sympathetic, both for your ears and for your heart. It doesn’t really make you feel any better, and despite how close the two of you have grown since you moved in, you still haven’t quite found it within you to tell him to break it off. Sharon’s already wary of you, though whether that’s from her rising insecurity or because you’re not hiding your feelings as well as you think you are, you’re unsure. The last thing you want is to stick your nose where it’s not wanted.

You and Laura go back and forth, straying from the taboo topic of Bucky’s relationship, until the men enter the living room. Bucky grasps a fresh glass of wine for you. You can feel Laura’s smirk from where you sit, hide your blush behind a long pull of the bitter red. Bucky sits beside you on the couch, close enough his thigh touches your knee where your leg is tucked up under you.

“Thank you,” you murmur once you’ve drained half the glass, tongue swiping over your top lip for the excess. You miss the slight dilation of his pupils, the way his chest rises with a deep inhale.

“Sure, doll.”

Your insides twist at the nickname and on the other sofa Laura smirks. Subtly, you flip her the bird and she snickers into her glass of water. Conversation buzzes between all of you, and you have to really focus on it instead of how warm Bucky is beside you. Maybe you should lay off the wine.

When your mother calls that dinner is ready, you’re the first one out of your seat. Clint makes a comment with a knowing grin.

“I’m hungry, dammit,” you snark back with a smirk. The others laugh a little, and you all find your seats.

Bucky pulls yours out for you before he takes his, a charming little side grin that sets your stomach to fluttering. You’re not sure if it’s just because the holiday has him in a good mood or if he’s purposely laying on the charm. Probably a bit of both.

He captures your attention over dinner, holds it as he converses with your family. You know your ‘heart eyes’ as Wanda would call them are on full fucking display, but it’s getting harder and harder to hide how you feel. Especially when he makes a dad joke that has your father howling with laughter. Sam nearly chokes on his beer. He clearly adores them, and it appears the sentiment is mutual.

And while your stomach feels like it’s flying, your heart suddenly takes a nosedive. The realization that he won’t be yours is heavy in your gut, icy tendrils slithering up to your throat to choke you. Pressure behind your eyes, a rising need to get away for a minute. It’s too much, knowing he isn’t yours when he damn well should be.

The chair scraping across the floor cuts through the conversation, halts it as everyone watches you in confusion. Your eyes are shiny, blurring all of their faces, so you keep your head down with a muttered “excuse me”.

A sharp, deep breath that’s almost painful once you’re locked away in the upstairs bathroom. Where you know no one will hear you as you let out a sob into your arm. For a little while it’s a gross mess of snot and tears and smudged makeup you wipe away with a tissue, only to have another black rivulet sliding down your face. The pent-up longing, confusion, and outright love comes pouring out, unable to be held back.

Nose stuffy, eyes crimson, you know you’re a mess and you’re going to have a hard time explaining it away. A rap of knuckles on the door, momentary fear that it’s Bucky coming to check on you, a rapid search for an excuse. More tissues swiped under your eyes and your best attempt at composure.

You open the door just a crack, surprised and relieved to see Sam instead of Bucky. His smile is sad, understanding, as if he knows exactly what’s in your head. You swing the door open a little wider, enough that he can get his body through to tug you into his chest. Large hands sliding up and down your back as you fight back another round of waterworks.

“This sucks, Sam,” you whisper. Eyes drift closed, squeeze, when he kisses your forehead and shushes you.

“I know, honey. You need to tell him, or don’t. Start dating, help yourself move on. Do something because I hate seeing you in pain.”

“I can’t tell him, Sam,” you murmur, stepping out of his space. You wipe your nose with your soggy tissue. “How could I put him in that position? I guess...maybe I’ll see if Wanda knows anybody…”

Sam smiles gently, tucks your chin with two fingers and nods his head towards the stairs. “C’mon. Let’s get through dinner and dessert.”

You’re nearly ready to cry again when Bucky lays worried eyes on you. You manage to choke it down, wave him off as you retake your seat. He tries to catch your eye but you avoid it, pointedly look to your other side. Your mom rests her hand on yours, a silent question. You smile faintly and nod, give the others a nod as well, and dinner resumes. It’s a little less light, less jovial, but soon Sam has everyone chortling again.

Your mood slightly improves once dinner is over and dessert begins. You’re laughing with Laura and Sam, Clint rolling his eyes because he’s the butt of the joke. Bucky’s a little quieter now, still perturbed from your earlier breakdown. You dread the car ride home, knowing he’ll ask you what it was about.

You gorge yourself on pie—apple and pumpkin because your mom is an exceptional baker. By the time the dishes are cleared from the table, you feel like you’ll have to be rolled out of the house. But then you remember who you’re riding home with and immediately volunteer to do the dishes for your parents if only to push that off a little longer.

Laura, bless her soul, doesn’t ask you about it. Instead, she asks you to be a bridesmaid in her wedding. Immediately you say yes, and the following conversation is a pleasant distraction from your earlier embarrassing episode. But there are only so many dishes and eventually, your time runs out.

Bucky and you bid goodbye to your family, your parents hoping they see Bucky again (thanks for that, Mom) and Clint promising to have a guys’ night soon. You barely feel his hand on your back as the two of you walk out to the car, breaths expelling in puffs in the cold November air. Immediately you crank the heat once the car is on, turning up the radio when a soft classic rock song comes on.

Bucky doesn’t ask you until you’re about halfway home. “You wanna tell me what that was about?”

It’s slow, deliberate. The chance to spill your guts, risk everything. He’s giving you the choice and you almost want to take it.

Almost.

“I’m okay,” is your reply instead. I’m fine is too much of a giveaway that you’re not. He’s quiet in the other seat, jaw muscle jumping and eyes sweeping outside the front windshield, but he nods, lets you have this because you can’t. Can’t say it, can’t cross that line with no hope of stepping back over it.

In the hallway outside your apartments, he thanks you, kisses your cheek, and it feels an awful lot like goodbye.

Two weeks. Fourteen days, three hours, and thirty seven minutes have gone by since you’ve last seen Bucky. You’ve heard him, walking through his apartment, on the phone, his door opening and closing as he comes and goes.

But not once do you ever see him.

It’s obvious he’s avoiding you, and once the initial confusion and sadness fades, anger takes over. What right does he have to avoid you? You’ve done nothing wrong except maybe get your heart tangled up somewhere it shouldn’t have been, pined for someone who’s unavailable. But are those crimes really so heinous? 

When the anger fades, resignation settles in. You’d been too obvious, it seems, especially near the end, so he’s backed off, given you room to sort your feelings and shove them away. But it’s easier said than done. In the time you’ve lived here, Bucky has somehow taken root inside your heart, spread himself out within it and dug his thorns in. With each beat of your heart, they pinch a little more, leave a sharp ache in their wake. He’s implanted in you, unable to be shaken, like a giant redwood towering above the others, shading and guarding. But at the same time, smothering.

Another week goes by. The demo goes well; no injuries, and aside from a minor short-circuit, it’s a success. Investors scramble for possession of the super suit. It keeps you occupied, your mind off your suddenly-absent neighbor when before he only seemed to be ever-present. Always popping out of his apartment as you were leaving or arriving. At the mailbox when you came home from work. His absence is, to your displeasure, heavily felt.

Until there’s a knock on your door one Friday evening. If a knock could be hesitant, this one surely is. It’s slow, a long beat between the first and the second. Like the knocker almost wanted to turn tail after the first but changed his or her mind.

He stands before you, arms crossed, hands tucked under them, shoulders hunched and head ducked. Looking every bit a kicked puppy. At first, you’re ready to chew him out, let him have it for ignoring you when you’re not the one at fault.

But a sniffle from the hulking man before you makes you freeze.

“Buck?” you question on a whimper. He looks up, lifts his chin away from his chest, and your heart stutters, stalls completely at the tears running down his face. “Bucky, god, what happened? Come in.”

His arm is hot where you grab onto him, tug him into your apartment. His feet are bare, as if he hadn’t had time or care to find socks, much less shoes. You know you should be angry with him, are such underneath, but it’s easy to brush it aside when he’s so obviously hurting.

He takes up half your couch when you sit him down, offer him tea to which he barely nods. It only takes a few minutes, but Bucky’s damn near sobbing again when you return with the hot mug. It burns a ring into your coffee table but it’s ignored in favor of wrapping Bucky in the blanket you keep on the back of the couch for lazy movie nights in.

He tugs it up to his nose, calms himself by taking a few deep breaths. Those oceanic eyes glimmering again with tears and it breaks your heart all over again. You’ve never seen a man look so broken, so lost.

“Bucky?” you ask, lay a hand on the blanket over his knee. His eyelids flutter as he looks over at you, eyes clearing just a bit in realization, and he seems to recoil in embarrassment. It’s visible, the wall he tries to throw up but you grasp at his hand when he reaches to rub at his face. “Bucky, what happened?”

He sniffs hard, coughs a bit to clear his throat, and mumbles, “I don’t know why I came here.”

It stings, but he continues, “You’re mad at me. You should be.”

Fingers lace between his tattooed ones, squeeze reassuringly. “Bucky, the only thing I am right now is concerned. What happened?”

“Sharon came home, uh, yesterday. We’ve been fighting more.” You don’t say anything; you’ve heard him through the walls enough recently. “She came home, apologized, we made up. She went in to take a shower this morning, left her phone on the nightstand. You know, I never realized she locks her phone now. Never even crossed my mind. Has a password and everything. Well, it, uh, it went off, and I looked at it. The preview anyways. It was a photo, from what I could see from some guy named Rob.”

You feel like your heart plummets into your stomach. You don’t need him to finish before you’re wrapping yourself around him as he begins to cry again. Your own eyes burn with suffering, with the obvious heartbreak in his voice, in his eyes.

“Bucky, I’m so sorry,” you whisper. His hair is silk as your fingers card through it, nails scraping gently along his scalp, the back of his neck. 

His face is tucked into your neck, breath hot against the skin there, and you have to push aside the realization that it brings goosebumps to your arms. His massive arms wind around you, tug you closer as he lets out all of his anguish. Months of arguing, of insecurity, of pointless arguments have all come to fruition, come to a sharp, jagged head that you swear you can feel yourself. It’s all laid out for you to feast your eyes upon.

His kiss is unexpected, makes your eyes fly open and hands to tightly grasp his wrists where his cup your face. It tastes of his tears, salty-sweet, and while your heart soars and tries to relish it, your brain jumps in.

“Bucky.” It’s weak on your tongue, but you tighten your grip on his wrists and attempt to pull back.

“Please,” is his sobbing beg, cheeks shiny with new tears, “please, I need…”

To feel something, are the unspoken words, something besides this heartbreak.

You give in. You let him pull your mouth back to his, let him part your lips with his tongue. It’s heaven, kissing him, and it’s so overdue. So goddamn overdue. You whimper against his mouth, against the wet curl of his tongue, and you can feel when it shifts. The atmosphere, the kiss itself. It becomes less about curing his heartbreak and more about his desire for you.

He lifts you from the couch, whines when you wrap your legs around his waist and grind against him. Hands fisting in his hair to wrench his head back and latch your lips onto his neck. It’s exhilarating, having this mountain of a man at your control. He finds his way to your bedroom, grunts an apology when he knocks your bottom against the door frame. 

You sigh when he sits at the edge of your bed, his large hands cupping your ass and pulling you into him, into the hard length of him tenting his sweatpants. It’s too much and not enough all at once, feeling the firm planes of him under you. Shuddering when he slides his hands under your shirt, you let him strip you of it. You’re braless, your bare breasts on full display for him and the heat of his gaze raises goosebumps on your arms.

Part of you wants to cover up, but the sheer awe and adoration on his face makes you bold. You scramble off his lap, stand before him and tuck your fingers into the waistband of your own sweats. They pool at your feet, and you’re naked for him. His gaze alone takes you apart, like fire as it rakes over your form.

His broad chest heaves as he lifts a hand to reach for you, but you dodge it, sink gracefully to your knees instead. Bucky’s eyes go wide and his cheeks fill with pink. Jaw muscles jump with the need to tell you, you don’t have to.

But you’ve been waiting to have Bucky, all of him, and you’d rather die than wait any longer.

He offers no resistance when you tug on his pant legs and raises his hips. They’re tossed elsewhere, and you smirk when you see he too is bare underneath. With one hand he reaches behind his head and tugs his shirt off, and dear God, you nearly want to faint.

Every inch of him is sculpted muscle, adorned beautifully with tattoos in both black and grey and in vivid color. He’s magnificent, and right now, he’s yours. The moan that pulls from his throat when you wrap your hand around him is music to your ears, a beautiful sound that sends wet heat straight to your core. You feel it between your thighs as you kneel, brace yourself on his thigh, nails scraping gently across the sensitive skin and the coarse hair there.

A small taste, a flick of your tongue along the underside of him. A strangled hiss from the man above you, who leans back on one hand, cards the other into your hair. You mouth at his length, velvet-covered hot steel, beautiful to match the rest of him. Tease him to madness with your tongue and hand. A curl of the hot muscle around his glistening tip and he tenses, falls back against the mattress.

“Fuck,” he nearly shouts as you take him in your mouth finally. Warm, wet, and soft as you sink down on him inch by agonizing inch. He peers down, almost comes on the spot when you gaze back at him, pretty pink lips stretched wide around the girth of him. He has to close his eyes as he groans, fingers clenching in your hair.

It’s torturous, the pace you set. A warm glide up and down his shaft, your free hand teasing his balls, heavy and soft in your hands. It’s maddening for you, the sounds you pull out of him cause your thighs to clench. He twitches in your mouth, heady and tangy and something you decide is just him, and you pull away. His chest deflates as he exhales, a near whine in the back of his throat.

But then you’re straddling him, leaning over to kiss him deeply. Bucky’s inked arms snake around you, his stomach muscles shifting and clenching as he sits up, rolls the two of you over. He’s solid and heavy above you, wet from you where he pokes your inner thigh. He smiles against your mouth as you gasp at the intrusion of his fingers at your core. Slides them up and down and then finally, inside, and as he moves them, a twitch of your hips. It’s a beautiful fullness, but it isn’t enough.

“Bucky,” you moan, lay your head back and let him ravage your throat, your bare breasts. His tongue swirls a nipple, blunt teeth tug at the bud until it's pert and erect. You need him. Like air in your lungs you need him. You tell him as much.

He resettles over you, withdrawing his fingers, ruts his length against you before taking himself in hand. Your nails dig into his shoulders as he presses in. A gasp that’s swallowed by his mouth, an echoing groan as your walls stretch to accommodate him. You’re so tight around him, he thinks he might burst.

“G-God,” he sighs, forehead pressed to yours. He bottoms out, waits, meets your eyes when they flutter open. He’s so beautiful above you, dark hair in his face, nothing but pure want and love in his eyes. You see it, know he sees it mirrored on your own face. No more hiding.

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” he admits as his hips pull back. You shudder at the drag of his cock. He’s nearly completely gone from you and he halts there, just the smooth tip of him inside. He slams forward, punches a cry from your throat. “So long.”

A steady pace, slow but god, is it deep. Plants his knees wide and opens your legs wide. You’re so full, it’s so much, but you beg him for more.

“Oh - Bucky, please.”

He braces his hand beside your head, the other pushing your hair out of your face as he leans on the elbow. Hands on his sides, his back, his ass, anywhere you can reach for more. Buck your hips to meet him, send him deeper. He grits his teeth when you toss your head back and moan, loud enough he’d be able to hear it next door.

“James.”

It sets something off in him, something primal. And in the back of his head he remembers how Sharon always called him James, but it has nowhere near the same effect as you calling him that. It’s heaven on your tongue and he kisses you deep, tongue and clashing teeth and he pulls your hand from his back. Laces your fingers together and presses them deep into the mattress. This is what it feels like, he knows now. Knows he’ll be ruined for anyone but you.

You’re seared on his heart, burn him from the inside out, and god, he needs you to come because he can’t hold back.

“Fuck, gotta come for me, sweetheart,” he murmurs against your ear, breathing harshly into the shell of it. “Shit, ‘m so close.”

“Fill me, James, oh, I need it.” Your needy whines echo in the room, the burning in your belly about ready to erupt. He growls low, thrusts his hips even harder and faster against you until you cry out, see stars bursting behind your eyelids, and you clamp down him so tightly he comes, too.

His thrusts are languid now as he fucks you both through your climaxes. His arm trembles where he still grips your hand, and he slides off you to the side, tugs you with him while he’s still buried within you. He kisses your forehead, slick with sweat, and can feel your eyelashes against his throat.

When your heartbeats slow, the sweat dries on your skin, you feel the weight of what’s just happened. It sinks like a lead weight in your heart, and you feel your throat closing up, eyes burning with your shame. Bucky shifts, feels the wobble in your chin, but you pull away from him to sit at the edge of the bed.

He’s alarmed when he hears you sniffling, a hand over your mouth to muffle your sobs. He panics internally, the hurt slicing through him like a blazing knife. But he reaches out to touch you, flinches back when you shove off the bed. You begin to gather your clothes, meet his glistening eyes with tears of your own.

“I’m so sorry, Bucky,” you sob before whirling on your feet to shut yourself in the bathroom.

Bucky’s chest rattles, teeth gritting together as he bites back the emotion welling up. You’re sorry? For goddamn what?

He leaves your apartment in a noxious mix of anger, hurt, and confusion.

End

[radiantxhero-moved-blog]

Meta topic: how do you think LOSING to the Black Knight would affect Ike's pride, and opinion of himself in comparison to his father?

send me a topic to write a meta about my muse on

[Under read more for length, as well as any spoilers to those who have not beaten or watched a play through of Path of Radiance or Radiant Dawn]

Well, if we’re talking PoR, that final clash with the Black Knight was pretty pivotal for Ike. 

Though he later discovers that he never really beat the Knight back then, at the time, it was a fulfillment for him – not only avenging his father, but proving his skills and worth, as well as defending his sister. It had been what he was ultimately training so hard to accomplish. 

While completing the task Princess Elincia had originally hired them to do was, of course, of the utmost importance – freeing a country would naturally take priority. But after witnessing his father’s death, killing the Black Knight becomes something of a driving obsession for Ike. He’s not only intent on slaying his father’s killer, but claiming the only chance he has at proving he could have succeeded Greil as a swordsman if he had lived.

Ike loses several times to the Black Knight in PoR. Every loss is an enraging, irritating reminder of how little progress he’s made personally in his skills. He might be making more progress as a commander, of leading battles with his men. But, one on one, going up against strong opponents – someone strong enough to defeat his father, using some of Greil’s own techniques – Ike feels like he flounders despite his efforts. It all feels like he’s being pandered to by the Knight, humored – like he’s still just a little boy, playing at being a warrior. If he manages to land a hit, it does nothing; if he avoids getting struck, it only feels like he’s being allowed to until the Knight decides to put him down like some upstart pup.

While he grudgingly takes these exchanges as training, and sets every attack, every block, every move that was made to memory, it’s frustrating as hell for him. Ike steps up his training – both against others in the Mercenaries or the Crimean Liberation army, as well as his solo sessions where he goes over the techniques and style left to him by his father.

If Ike lost that last confrontation in PoR, it would have been devastating. The Black Knight still would have left him alive, because he wasn’t up to par with Greil at his prime, and so killing Ike wouldn’t be worth it yet. The fort would still have been rigged to fall, and Nasir likely still would have shown up to intervene – giving Ike, Mist and Ena a means to escape.

But that loss would have festered in Ike deeply. Once throwing down Ashnard and restoring independence to Crimea, Ike might not have even stayed as long as he did in the court to see the restoration along as far as he did. He would have immediately gone into hunting down the Black Knight once more, now fully able to devote his time and energy to it now that the war was over.

As far as RD goes, there are very few clashes between Ike and the Black Knight.

But, if Ike had previously lost to the Knight in PoR, going up against him in the Tower would be intensely more emotional. Ike has had three years of searching, training, and letting these feelings of failure, self-hatred and hate for this man root in him. He not only wants to kill the Knight for what he’d done, to prove his abilities once and for all, but also to get out the decidedly unsettled issues he has towards Greil as well.

It would be a fight fueled by emotions on both sides, and losing would be – if not fatal – something that would break Ike. He’d come all this way, to the very feet of a God, and he still couldn’t beat this one man. It would be a severe blow to his already damaged self esteem, and if Ashera was still defeated in the long run, it would likely lead to Ike just….giving up for a good while, just numb to things as he tries to comprehend just how he could have lost. 

Ike would never fully give up on beating the Black Knight, or, as he would know him at this point, Zelgius. But it would take a few years for him to get back on track, to resolve his own internal problems, before training up again and making another attempt.

All in all, losing to the Black Knight would be incredibly damaging to Ike on so many fronts. He’d never fulfill that need for revenge for his father’s death. He’d feel like he not only failed his father and Mist, but the entire mercenary group as well. He’d never feel like he could succeed Greil, either as a warrior or as leader of the company. It would feed into his already damaged self esteem, and bring him to the lowest point possible.

It would fuck him up so, so much.

[mingishoe]

When you get too close to another member

OT7 x Reader

Kim Namjoon

Namjoon completely trusts you and doesn’t mind you being with the other boys, so when you’ve been out shopping all day with Jin he doesn’t think too much about it. After shopping all day with Jin you came home with armfuls of bags, laughing like two idiots. After helping Jin take all his bags to his room you bid your good-nights and go back to your boyfriends room. You yourself only had like 4 bags so it wasn’t too much to carry. As you walk into the room you see Namjoon laying down scrolling through his phone. You set your bags on the desk and say hello to Namjoon. “Hey baby, how was shopping with Jin Hyung?” Namjoon asked giggling slightly. “It was great, I got some new clothes, but I’m so tired.” You sigh and lay next to Namjoon. “I can imagine, you two were gone for gone for like 6 hours!” He responds laughing.

Kim Seokjin

Jin wasn’t one to get too jealous because he knew he could trust you around the other members, but every once in a while he got a bit annoyed at how much the other members bothered you. You, Jin, and Hoseok were in the practice room and Hoseok kept persisting he taught you a new dance, which you wanted to learn. Jin was sitting on the floor against the mirror as Hoseok was moving your body accordingly when you couldn’t get a specific move down. While watching Hoseok continuously grab your leg Jin finally had enough of it. All of a sudden Jin popped up from his spot and ran towards you and Hoseok. “Jinie what are you doing?” you questioned as he picked you up over his shoulder and ran out of the practice room. “Nothing, you need some rest you look tired” he said quite fast and rushed. You looked up at him and said “Are you sure you’re not just jealous babe?” while giggling. “Maybe…” he responded while kissing you on the cheek.

Min Yoongi

Yoongi probably would get the most jealous out of the group. You’ve been spending a lot of time with Namjoon helping him with his new album coming out. Yoongi walked into Namjoon’s studio to ask him to listen to a song he had just finished producing when he saw you with his headphones on while Namjoon’s head was pressed against yours so he can hear slightly as well. As soon as Yoongi walked in you immediately perked up and started smiling, “Hey baby” you smiled at him to which he just completely ignored you and handed the flash drive to Namjoon telling him to listen to number 7. You furrowed your eyebrows wondering what was wrong with him, but shrugged it off thinking he was frustrated about something not working or sounding right. Later that night you walked into his room wanting to spend time with him since he was busy all day. He was facing the wall with his head under the covers. “Yoongi, baby? Are you asleep?” you asked knowing the answer was probably yes which is why you’re surprised when he says, “What do you want?” “I-I just wanted to come cuddle or watch a movie since you were so busy today.” You respond quite taken aback by his harsh tone. “Why don’t you go cuddle with Namjoon since you two are so close” he spat back, still under the covers. You snorted wondering if he was actually serious, “Yoongi what the fuck are you talking about?” you started walking towards the bed to sit on it. “Why would I want to cuddle and watch a movie with Namjoon when I already have the perfect cuddle buddy and boyfriend, whom I love very much, right here. He slowly took off the covers revealing his signature gummy smile with his arm out waiting for you to cuddle with him. “Love you” is what you heard from him when you snuggled your face into his neck. “Love you more”

Jung Hoseok (slightly smutty but not rly)

Hoseok was a really possessive person, but not so much jealous. For some reason Hoseok HATED for you to be with Jungkook. He was at dance practice and you were extremely bored, so you were playing video games with Jungkook in his room. You two were in a really intense game of Mario Kart so neither of you could hear the door open and slam shut. You and Jungkook were currently have a yelling contest to try and distract the other from wining. “KOOOOOK” you screamed throwing the controller down on the bed after he beat you by .5 a second. Jungkook was sitting in his desk chair while you were sitting on his bed. The door suddenly flew open with an angry Hoseok on the other side, “What the fuck are y’all doing?!” You and Jungkook immediately turned around and looked down like you two were actually doing something bad, which y’all weren’t, and quietly and simply responded, “Mario Kart.” Hoseok looked between the two of you and said, “continue,” you and Jungkook looked at each other, skeptical about what Hoseok was playing at. You and Jungkook both got back in to your positions, him in his desk chair and you sitting Criss-cross on his bed. Hoseok sat on the bed next to you, and to be frank, he was making you 10 times more nervous. You were currently winning and Hoseok’s hand was slowly going up your thigh to rest to the bottom of your jeans. “H-Hoseok, what’re you doing?” You asked trying to not get too distracted. “Nothing baby, keep going.” He responded smirking at you. It was your last lap and you were winning by a hair, Jungkook right behind you. You felt the waist of your pants being tugged on you look down quickly and see Hoseok got the button of your jeans undone and was beginning to stick his hand down your pants into your underwear. “Hobi, stop, you’re gonna make me lose!” You responded getting quite angry. “I’m just trying to remind you my name is the only one you can scream” he responded, too loudly for your liking, making you stop and have Jungkook speed past you.

Park Jimin

Jimin didn’t get so much possessive or jealous but he became insecure that he wasn’t treating you right. Jimin especially didn’t like you being around Yoongi as much as you were. You and Yoongi have similar personality traits and like the same things, so it was natural for you two to be close. Everyone was out recording for song for the new album except Yoongi since he has been having a sore throat for the past few days. You decided to stay and keep Yoongi company by eating popcorn and watching Netflix on the big screen in the living room area. You and Yoongi were sitting on the two seat couch with popcorn in between your crossed legs. It was getting late and the boys still weren’t back yet, and you were starting to get tired. Yoongi had fallen asleep a long time ago leaning against your body. You must’ve fallen asleep as well with your head on Yoongi’s shoulder because when you woke up it was 3am and apparently everyone was back because all the keys were on the key holder. Yoongi moved to where he was leaning the other way so it was easy to get up without waking him up. You go towards your boyfriends room and open the door and see Jimin sleeping peacefully. You change into some shorts and leave the sweater you had on. You get into the bed and expect Jimin to pull his arm around you, but instead he faces the other direction away from you. “Jimin? Baby? Are you okay?” You asked, concerned about his behaviour thinking he might not be feeling well. Jimin doesn’t respond but you can see him nod from where he’s laying. “Jimin, are you sure bec- ohhh…. Is this because Yoongi?” You asked now started to understand what was wrong. Once again, you see him nod from where he was looking. You stay quiet for a minute, not sure what to say until you hear a whisper, barely audible, like maybe you weren’t even supposed to hear it. “Are you sure you still love me?” You snap your heads towards Jimin, not being able to believe what he just said. “Park Jimin, look at me,” you whispered soft enough but hard enough for him to listen to you. Your eyes scanned the soft features of his face, his sparkling eyes, his beautiful plump lips, his soft skin you could touch all day, “Jimin baby, don’t ever believe I don’t love you. I love you more than anything and anybody in the world. You’re my rock, I don’t know what I would do without you.” You told him softly making intense eye contact so he would see how serious you are. “Are- are you sure because Yoon-“ “Jimin, please be quiet.” You cut him off not wanting to hear what he had to say about Yoongi. You looked down at his lips before kissing him softly to prove your point. “I love you, Park Jimin”

Kim Taehyung

Taehyung wasn’t so much jealous because he knew he could trust you and the other members, but he was aware of Jimin’s small crush on you. Every time you were with Jimin, Taehyung turned into a sloth. He was so clingy, not that you minded, but he was always right next to you or holding you somehow. So when Jimin was trying to help you learn how to play the piano, Taehyung wouldn’t leave you alone for 2 seconds. “TaeTae, can you please go sit on the sofa please, Jimin is trying to show me and he can’t with you grabbing my hands every minute.” You looked at Taehyung then to Jimin smiling sympathetically. “Hey, I can help you another time, why don’t you let Tae help you for today?”  You looked back at Taehyung looking at you with wide hopeful eyes, “I- I guess that’ll be okay” you looked at Taehyung and smiled. Taehyung thanked Jimin as he walked out of the room leaving you two together. You turned around shooting Taehyung a glare, “Why did you do that Tae, Jimin was just trying to help me learn.” Taehyung look at you with guilty eyes, “Sorry, I just wanted you to myself for today.” You turned around to hug Taehyung and put your head in his face, “It’s okay baby, we can spend all day together.”

Jeon Jungkook

Jungkook was both possessive and got jealous super easily especially when you and Taehyung were hanging out alone. Sure Taehyung was his best friend and he trusted him more than the other boys, but it was just his instinct to want you all to himself. Jungkook was going to be out all day with one of his friends you didn’t know, so Taehyung asked you if you wanted to go see a movie with him so you won’t be alone. You agreed quickly since you didn’t have anything to do and no one else was around. You and Taehyung honesty no interest in each other but apparently to Jungkook going to the movies with him was the end of the world. You and Taehyung walk into the dorms screaming and laughing at each other. Jungkook was sitting in the kitchen with Jin talking about who knows what, but you didn’t pay too much attention to him besides giving him a small smile while walking to the back room with Taehyung. From the very beginning you knew Jungkook was going to be slightly annoyed about the whole thing, but you didn’t think it was as serious as he thought it was. After awhile of you and Taehyung talking you hear a door slam shut and you immediately knew it was Jungkook. You sigh as you get up thanking Taehyung and telling him goodnight since it was quite late already and you head to Jungkook’s room. You open the door and see Jungkook walking back and forth across the room, eyes closed and hands on his ears. Instead of trying to talk to him, you wait till his back is towards you and go to hug him. He stiffens for a moment then relaxes when he realized it was you. You knew exactly what he was thinking so you just start talking to him, “You know I love you right, not Taehyung.” You can feel him laugh slightly so you continue, “I’m being serious, I’m all yours, and only yours. Forever.” You feel him start to shift around so you loosen your grip from around him so he can turn around to hug you, “I love you.”

[simptasia]

lost characters based solely on how i portray them in my text post memes

jack: constantly crying and/or screaming. no emotional stability. no social skills. terrible bedside manner. endearingly bland. into powerful women. loves the red sox... a lot. daddy issues. doesn’t believe in himself. has shitty tattoos. being crushed under the weight of everybody’s expectations. more or less hot. he is not cool at all. repressed attraction to guys. chronic hero syndrome. adorably embarrassing as a dad. passionately and violently overreacts to the mere concept of people believing in things. mansplains but in a non malicious way because he is literally that oblivious. gets into fights a lot. dissociates in mirrors. gets injured a lot but doesn’t wanna make a fuss. thinking about caves

kate: desperate need to protect women. bi. is frustrated by jack and sawyer’s personalities but wants to fuck them oh so much. rowdy. feminist. biceps. will call you out. is love with claire and jack and sun and- she has a lot of love to give. she can be ur angel or ur devil. exasperated. doesn’t understand astrology but she’s trying. she’s the slytherin friend every hufflepuff needs. uses guns. doesn’t know how to cook. go to relationship advice is “dump him” or “suck his dick”.  just because you put things in her vagina doesn’t mean you know her. gemini

hurley: sad clown. haha laughter! hiding real pain! has debilitating mental illness. he’s doing his best to stay positive. virgin. genuinely kind soul. overwhelmed by food. awkward around girls he likes. much smarter and wiser than anybody thinks, including himself. a special boy who we all love. says dude a lot. the only valid rich person ever. doesn’t like himself. sees dead people. kinda silly. also he’s fat (but i don’t joke about it in a cruel way)

sawyer: compulsive need to nickname people. from the south. bewildered by charlie’s english slang. covering up vulnerability with jokes and being mean. loves juliet. is an asshole but a loveable asshole (this varies, mostly he’s an asshole). conventionally attractive to the point of boring. got a Thing going on with miles. can’t stand daniel being smart around him. babies freak him out. treats animals poorly

locke: very supportive and new agey type. i’ve made two jokes about him encouraging people to jack off, that wasn’t on purpose but Okay. he doesn’t know what its like to have friends. he says Deep Sounding but odd things. he’s super duper into nature. he suffers. he’s very forgiving of ben to the point of absurdity and he desperately wants ben to love and fuck him. or maybe they are fucking. Who Knows. he loves knifes

sayid: sexy, suffering shannon fucker. he doesn’t respect boone. his life is an endless parade of misery culminating in going on autopilot. respects women

jin: he has no idea what’s going on and his life revolves around sun

sun: beautiful. perfect. very passionate about gardening

claire: bi. frequently ignored. cutesy and sweet. super into astrology and new age stuff. her cheery demeanour can only hold on so long before she loses it. kinda dumb. has baby. vanilla, at least for now. loves charlie but is kinda frustrated by him. goes feral and “kitten thinks of murder all day” sums it up

charlie: that he needs attention and validation to survive would be a gross understatement. bi. trans. punk. stupid. english. really horny and slutty. adores music more than anything. drug addict (again, i refuse to be cruel). severe jealousy issues. inferiority superiority complex. hates himself but will get offended if you hate him. can’t take any form of criticism. is bewildered by sawyer’s american-isms. bit of a madonna whore complex. smol but will go the fuck off like a terrier nipping at ya heels. catholic and riddled with catholic guilt. goofy and obnoxious and he knows it. passive aggressive. terrified of bees. nice ass. mood swings. did i mention he’s short? anyway here’s wonderwall

ben: ugly. just plain terrible. beaten and bruised. seething with rage and pain on the inside. virgin. liar. just causes problems on purpose. resembles a lemur or rat, rodents in general. loves bunnies. doesn’t think sex is real. just a really bad idea for him to be around juliet. has no friends. doesn’t care about other people. says creepy shit just because. he knows he’s a terrible person. killed people. the friend nobody likes and a general nuisance to the other characters

(also my literal first text post meme about ben was a joke about him eating his parents??? 2014 sapphire, i wanna talk...)

juliet: mom friend. seems very calm but she’s screaming on the inside. basically she’s the This Is Fine meme. depressed. has big tits. low-key kinky. feminist in a very gentle way. has no ill will towards kate and will only fight her for fun. concerned for daniel’s well being. has no chemistry with jack. loves sawyer. flat measured calm way of speaking. she’s breaking apart at the seams but will offer you a nice glass of water :)))

michael: has a son..... uh...... enjoys minecraft?

(i’m sorry)

desmond: scottish. drinks. easily and constantly confused. magic psychic time powers, like visions and electromagnetic dimensional stuff. easily angered. fucked off by the concept of time and destiny in general. hhhhhhhot

smokey: Hello Fellow Humans I Promise This Is My Own Skin Haha

miles: bi. aro. loves money (trying to fill the hole in his heart with money and things). emo/punk. pretends not to care but he really does care. thinks emotions and romance are dumb but of course is emotional... and kinda wants love. but not that he LIKES you or anything. exasperated. thinks everybody else is weird. kinda slutty or at least trying to be. masochist and into BDSM. mean to daniel for no reason. daddy issues. resting bitch face. jaded, bitter and salty. responds to romantic things dan or char say with vulgar or mocking comments. grew up poor. can hear dead people. trying too hard to be edgy. deadpan snarker. Fuck Off I’m Not Sad Don’t Look At Me [cries only around the audience and his mom]

walt: becoming older than 10 was when things went downhill for him

shannon: seems vapid but is more than that. deeply insecure. feels she can’t do anything right. constantly put down as worthless by other people. yeah she’s sad but she Looks Great. wants sayid to pound her (mood)

(gee, that was dark)

richard: very old and ageless. sees ben as a son figure. really not holding it together. seems smart but he has no fucking idea whats going on. cult mindset. quips curtly back at miles’ vulgar jokes. in love with miles based on very little interaction. misses his dead wife. has a cute giggle. is also hot. overwhelmed and just wants to go into the jungle and scream

frank: doesn’t understand what anybody is talking about. the only normal person here. doesn’t understand these kids today with their weird kinks. just wants to sleep. pilot. bit of a conspiracy theorist

boone: bi. stupid. soaked in blood a lot.  (L I T E R A L L Y all of my boone jokes are about him being dumb and bi and horribly injured and combos of those. i haven’t even made any incest jokes! what the actual fuck)

ana lucia: “[with tears in her eyes] DO U WANNA FIGHT??”. highly volatile. lesbian. bros with jack but will roast him. angery, sad and underloved

daniel: bi, agender, neurodivergent, just, just especially brain weird. The Scientist trope but kind of a shitty scientist. smart. in love with charlotte. in love with desmond. likes rats a lot. talks weird and soft spoken. withdrawn and polite but with bursts of bitterness. his mom won’t let him live the live he wants to live. time travel weirdness. loves music. gifted kid burn out. has a mental and emotional collapse. thinks a hydrogen bomb will solve all his problems. skinny. touches people a lot. he’s not okay. romantic. overwhelmed. memory problems. his lack of life experience and softness is used to contrast miles. takes some statements literally. pretty vanilla (for now) and doesn’t know what certain kinks are. likes that charlotte is Tough & Rowdy. doesn’t swear much. bad hair. was unhinged in college. has radiation poisoning

libby: neurodivergent and in love with hurley

eko: yeah... i’ve legit only used him for jokes where charlie says something EXTREMELY vulgar and eko says “go to church”

charlotte: bi, loud, passionate, beautiful, angery, knows All The Languages, huge nerd, loves daniel and thinks he’s a Snack, outspoken feminist, archaeologist/anthropologist and wants to explore some fucking ruins, The Lost Lenore trope, loves chocolate, exasperated, great smile, subtly insecure, doesn’t get that she could just tell daniel how she feels, has had many indiana jones like adventures (off screen, of course), for example: crashing her dirtbike into all 7 wonders of the world

danielle: french and unhinged, has seen some shit

alex: just a young lady with no chill

jacob: suffers from terminal apathy. has little understand of human behaviour. doesn’t care about people. he just plain sucks. has no endearing qualities. causes many problems. beats the shit outta richard. doesn’t like technology. so removed from humanity that he’s a touch uncanny valley

christian, eloise, charles and anthony jokes each have their own kind of flavours but fuck it, i’ll sum them all up as: contemptuous cunts who deserve to die

aaron: just a baby boy. does baby things. has like 5 parents

vincent: a dog. a good boy. does he know more than he lets on? is he mysterious? no, he is just a dog

[alamanyar]

[this has been sitting in my drafts since saturday. it’s super long lol but writing this all down helped me process the clip] i have to say that i liked the last clip (let’s say as a whole) of ‘This is why I don’t like you.’ and by that i mean the approach and most of its execution. maybe a few rewatches helped, and maybe a bit of distance helped, too. 

the beginning sequence is badass. love the girls acting cool and goofy at the same time. great music choice once again. eva doesn’t mess around, does she. i do hope they will tone down her jealousy. i’m a bit concerned. the way she reacts is realistic and i get her, i do, i just hope she’ll grow soon, cause being jealous 24/7 is draining and i want her to be happy. the dancing sequence is fantastic. there are all adorable goofballs. (i hope luchì gets a line soon. know that i’m waiting). i hope we see more of this in the next weeks. those are only snippets, but they are great, because they show us friends having fun together. edoardo with his friends (the villa boys are slowly growing on me and we don’t see them often. thank you ludos). also for giving chico the screentime he deserves. the myth, the legend, the chaotic energy. i hope we get to see more of him together with edo. and if it’s a snippet of them dancing (?) together. edoardo is loyal to his friends, we all know that i think, but we actually see him having fun with them in a very soft way. you can feel they go way back. you only geek out with your best friends like that, don’t you? while he dances, he keeps glancing at eleonora who is enjoying herself with her friends. she has a lovely smile, i hope we see more of that as well. i feel like we’ve seen her more restrained this season. sure, we get a closer look on her since it is indeed her season. not everyone smiles 24/7 even if said persons is a literal sunshine. but i felt like she let go of the visible tension she’s been feeling on the dance floor for a while. i liked that part. when we see eva already drunk at the bar i already had a bad feeling. then come the two guys. i tensed. it was hard watching her talk to those absolute douche-bags. to those homophobes. they took advantage of her. and i was scared. then ele comes in and tries to get her away from the men, but it’s not working. eva is so caught up in her insecurities and her hurt over giovanni being with sofi that she seeks validation. ele is not giving it to her, and so she asks the men who had just spend a drink on her. she didn’t see nothing wrong in that in the moment. i can’t blame her, she was wasted. i hope she wouldn’t have the need to learn from this, but let’s be relastic, i hope she does. girls/women shouldn’t stop enjoying theirselves on a night out, and yet, they have to be attentive if they don’t want to be exploited. there’s always a possibility that people will do exactly that. and it sucks. it’s a sad and cruel world we [sometimes] live in. that being said, i appreciate how it was handled. even ele going to marti for help. a teenage girl asking her male classmate/friend whom she trusts to help her with dragging away their mutual female friend from men who are prying. it’s realistic, it’s real. it’s tough to watch. it’s not something that was shown in order to be realistic for the sake of realism. this is how it could go down. this is how it went down too many times for too many people. (one time is one time too much). this is how it will go down in the future. so what do the viewers take away from it? they relate. cause it happened to them. it happened to some of us. to a lot of us actually. they’ll talk about how real this scene was and how much it hurt. women, nor any gender, should get treated this way. will there be people who will be shocked with this scene because it felt too real? yes. it makes me sad, it truly does. if there are people who have watched this scene or similar scenes to this and weren’t aware that this is part of the realism we are living in, i hope this scene gave them something to think about. people who behave like the men in this particular scene probably didn’t watch this scene nor equal ones. but if people who think this scene was over the top or unrealistic, i hope they realise now that this scene wasn’t all of that and i hope they will change their view on what is okay to say/to do to a person who is clearly drunk. (look for the friends if they are not close, order a glass of water, make the person sit down). it’s a sensitive topic, but skam is about sensitive topics. this scene wasn’t a wake-up call for me. i know that this stuff happens every day. i, too, have been hit on. both during a night out and walking down a bloody street during broad daylight. i was even sexually assaulted during work when i was only a couple of years older than the characters we follow on screen. i’m glad they choose to tackle this topic. yk one second you’re dancing and having fun with your friends, the next you’re being hit on. it’s a puddle of emotions, yes, but we all know skam is like that. this was very intense, but i’m thinking it only raises awareness and it gets us (back to) talking about this sensitive topic, and hopfeully, to each other. that is what i took away from this scene. other than being scared for eva. moving on. eva shouldn’t have taken the drink, but it’s not her fault. it’s been a while since i’ve went out ending up completely wasted, but i’m not unpruned to react/behave like that even if i have a couple of more years on my sleeve. sometimes you do stuff you regret when you’re drunk. i don’t want to think about the times i was this level of drunk and nothing happened to me, because i was just lucky to be in a room full of normal decent humans. or it was because i just got lucky none of the assholes in this world tried something with me. it can happen to anyone, anytime. i’m happy ele had an eye on eva. this is also so very realistic. those friends who watch you when you’re going out together. you watch each other, sometimes one watches the others more closely and vice versa. those friends that walk you home/want you to text them when you’re home. when you’re safe. okay. ele goes to marti and marti’s face changes in a milisecond. bless his soul. bless his heart. bless martino rametta and everone who is like him. simple as that. he grabs eva and eva follows him instantly. their friendship, boy, i’m glad we get these snippets. but then the atmosphere intensifies. the story with eva beforehand was a good build-up, it really was. all my senses were heightened. marti drags eva away, he knows how serious this situation is. and yet he manages to stay calm. everyone who reacts like him shouldn’t be praised, because it’s decent human behaviour. and yet. alas. the men come on to him and the situations gets scary again or even more scary idk. he gets called a slur. he’s shoked, hurt, scared. all of it. but he won’t give in to these men’s provocations and starts to walk off. they don’t let him though. giovanni appears out of nowhere? no. he was standing beside him when ele came to martino. maybe he followed his action. he’s fierce in his protectiveness. giovanni is one of the kindest and warmest and softest characters in the skamit universe, but he won’t have you insulting his best friend. not on his watch. we’ve known that, yeah, but these seconds of him jumping between martino and the men are an amazing continuation of what we’ve seen in s1 and s2. as sad as it was watching him do that. he shouldn’t have to. but he did, and i am glad. i’m also glad elia came to the rescue. these boys. oh man. i am enjoying eleonora’s season. despite the change in releasing the clips, despite the dragging storyline concerning ele x edo x silvia. i am. and i’m excited to see where the rest of the season goes. i would give anything though to follow martino through his eyes for, well, idk, many many seasons. his season just captivated me. martino captivated me. marti x nico captivated me. fede captivated me. i’m sorry if this is annoying. this short scene with him though- for a second i was back in his head. i was back in season 2. damn. anyway, the way we react to things comes in different ways. this is where nico comes in. i think he didn’t hear what’s been said. i don’t think he acted ooc. maybe he was even asked to take sofi to the side. maybe the boys pushed him away, because they know how vulnerable he is. tends to be. he’s allowed to. and if it was his choice, i still wouldn’t call it ooc. we’ve seen him through marti’s eyes. we know he’s utterly vulnerable. it’s one of his biggest character traits. i think it would have been a bad call to make him jump into the fight, too. it’s not him. he’s like marti. he’d try to leave the situation. yes, the men were the ones who started it. all of it. with words, with aggression. they were ready to throw fists. i’d try to push them away, too, had they attacked my friends. where was nico? it’s all speculation, isn’t it? we see him and sofi for a split second in the background when gio rushes to marti’s side. we don’t know if he heard what it was all about. i’m thinking that the directors made a choice here. especially in the snippets of the aftermatch. why don’t we see his ‘concerned’ face? why is he “just” standing there (calmly even. maybe) with sofi and why doesn’t he rush to marti when the latter one is worrying over gio after edoardo and his friends throw the men out? (coglione. btw bless you, edoardo). it makes me think he didn’t know what was being said at all. i think he either didn’t know what the situation was about or maybe he thought it was about giovanni (and eva) after all. marti dragging away eva because ele wouldn’t ask gio for help in this particular situation, because he’s with sofi now. but then gio goes anyway, because someone tried to hurt eva and he still cares about her. maybe that’s what nico thought. it could be a possibility. another one could be that nico froze because of the fright. i really think there lies a reason behind him standing with sofi. and i think it will be resolved. they have been handling marti x nico with care (we’ve seen them in the bg and they are happily in love. we’ve seen it on the dance floor, too. happy boys happily in love). now, there wasn’t any concern in the snippet we see of him going to marti and the boys. there has to be a reason to it. it was all blurry anyhow and like 0.0001 seconds so what. there was concern at one point though, i’m absolutely certain. we didn’t see it though. and if it was because of him freezing at the situation, then so be it. who are we to judge other people’s reaction? those snippets of him in the bg don’t make me love his character any less. i know he loves marti and i know he’ll shower him with love more than ever and i know he’d never not care about marti. i’m not even mad at the decision to not show his reaction. he’s not the focus. marti has a bit more to it all. he’s a main and the whole harresment/homophobia scene happened with the three mains involved. i’m not mad (yet. lol), because i think there’s something following up to all of this and i’m positive we get the soft epilogues for marti x nico in the bg at one point. my shipper heart wants a lot of scenes with my faves. but this is also skam. a show that’s fast paced- you have to read between the lines sometimes. that being said, i thought this scene was difficult to handle, but i wouldn’t say it took away one thing from the other. eleonora x edoardo’s story is just beginning and like i said, i think we’ll get another look on the homophobia mention. i’m also thinking that this was maybe an intentional creative decision. one main/one ship gets a scare and one gets together. sometimes life is like that. very often so, i believe. people don’t have to like this of course. it didn’t upset me. eva being harrassed scared me. marti being cornered scared me. i could enjoy ele x edo, i just needed a few rewatches to let it really get to me. the conversation they have before she tells him she doesn’t like him was very well done. edoardo is so soft omg, giancarlo, calm down. i adore his approach on his character, i really do. i think he’s a great actor. i think, deep down, edoardo’s even one of the most vulnerable characters. there’s a sensitiveness to him. when his mother is mentioned, when he looks at eleonora and when you see how far he’s gone for her, but still wants her to be alright, even if he doesn’t play a part in her life. it’s acted out subtly but it’s also very visible, you know? he longs for eleonora to like him. he’s been trying really hard. i think for the most part he’s been respective towards her and i really like the growth we’ve seen so far in him. i’m excited to see where this will go. eleonora is scared of admitting her feelings. she doesn’t want to give in, but she also does. she’s seen another side of him by now and she struggles to keep up with idealistic views on men/human beings in general. she’s been soft for him in s1 and s2 already. when he calls her beautiful, she isn’t appalled, because it’s the way he says it. the way he conveys it. it has charmed her. when they talk on the balcony in illegale, she’s even more soft for him. little glances here and there. he challenges her. she likes it. and yh the whole silvia storyline doesn’t want her to go into to it and she tells herself that she can’t betray her friend like that and so on. but what do you do when someone you’re actually not keen on, gets to you in a good way? that’s eleonora struggle, her conflict. short intermission: i’m glad they didn’t make eva x silvia kiss each other’s faces off. if they don’t make one of them a lesbian/bisexual/, what’s the point? exactly. the kiss scene: i like that ele’s speech was cut short. it’s repetitive and edo doesn’t want to hear it. he’s hurt. obviously. it makes sm sense to me that he stops her. it’s been talked about how edoardo has been waiting for her for over a year. what about eleonora? i think she’s been falling for him for a while now, too. that’s why she runs and that’s why they don’t need any more words. it fits. i liked the thunder thingy touch. or whatever you call it heh. i thought it was done very well. maybe the rest is hella dramatic. not that the thunder thingy is not dramatic, you know, but some things are dramatic and some things are dramatic. anyway. i think the blurry take of the scene was a creative decision in the sense of that it was done in order to portray a metaphor which is that we aren’t able to see everything yet, because this is just the start of their relationship. we are looking at them through frosted glass. we don’t have all the details yet, and neither do they. the way it was shot certainly is growing on me. i like their happy faces. their smiles. they matched each other and it was wonderful to see. i like neck kisses so him kissing her jaw(-line) was *whistle noise* kisses in the rain are often cheesy. they are supposed to, i think. sometimes i like them, sometimes i don’t. i didn’t mind the rain in this one, it wasn’t as if it started raining on cue. scenes with rain involved also bear a metaphor and when it’s done right, it takes away the cheesiness of it all, or let’s say some of it, at least for me. rain usually means clearity, right? rain is essential to all living things. if it doesn’t rain, nothing will grow. and when it pours, it means it washes away your troubles, your negativity etc pp the rain in this scene probably wasn’t there just for the aesthetic (some say it took away the aesthetic. i think that’s something you can argue about), it was used, because it washes away eleonora and edoardo’s previous sins. if you want a dramatic appeal to it. it made them clean (again) and now they are standing naked in front of each other, because the rain got rid of their baggage, their dirt. ele had an epiphany on the dance floor that was long called for and she found clearity in the kiss under the rain. edoardo was defeated, he truly believed eleonora did not like him and after one long year of waiting, he gave up, because he can’t and he won’t pursue someone anymore who doesn’t want him. the rain washes away his sins, because eleonora accepts them now. she let down her guard and she sort of came down from her high horse. for edoardo it’s clearity because eleonora coming after him means that he didn’t imagine their connection and their banter. her clearity is his clearity. the rain implies that everything (for now) is settled between them. the coast is clear, so to speak. it means the start of their journey together. i admit that i didn’t care too much about their kiss that much at first, because i was still taken aback by eva and marti being harrassed and not seeing nico react to marti being hurt. and it’s not that we all have to like the same scenes or creative choices anyway. i don’t think the clip was bad because two massive things were happening. i don’t even think it was rushed. maybe that’s just me. with some clips you experience a rollercoaster of emotions. this one clearly was one of those. of course it’s absolutely okay not to like it or any other one. (or aspects of it). there’s still a lot to come this season and time for side storylines to develop. time for clarity and time for resolve. that being said, i know it would have been unrealistic for filippo to come to this party, but boy, did i miss him in that clip.

[if-i-want-to-dance]

Dance with Devils Headcanons for the Boys Having a Girlfriend Who’s Insecure about her Weight

I’m just going to preface this post with a little something. I honestly don’t think any of these guys actually care what you look like. I think most of them would go more for your personality. I mean, they might have preferences, but at the end of the day, I think if you’re willing to deal with Shiki’s issues, show Rem love and appreciation, and give Lindo the validation and affection he craves, you could look like the Phantom of the Opera and they’d still treat you like gold. (I don’t mean the Phantom of the Opera from the movie, I mean the one from the book. The one that looks like a living skull. That one.)

I’d also like to add that this is a personal issue of mine that I am super insecure about. I’ve been on the end of comments about it from both my family and people I barely know (honestly there’s no in between on the people who comment about it for some reason). And yes, certain elements are definitely pulled from actual things that have happened to me.

Rem

-It takes Rem a bit of time to put it together. The off hand comments about how you don’t think that style of shirt would “flatter my body” or how you “really don’t need” something sweet somebody offered you. He simply takes them at face value, but soon realizes there’s something behind them.

-He finally puts it together when he finds you crying over something one of your parents said about your looks.

-The first thing he does is reassure you that, as far he’s concerned, you’re the most perfect human being on the planet. That goes for every aspect of your appearance as well as your personality.

-Honestly, your personality drew him to you, but he thinks you look amazing. All your good inward traits are expressed through your appearance and he can’t begin to separate the two.

-If you need to rant your frustrations, he will sit and listen, and reassure you afterwards about how wonderful he thinks you are. He doesn’t necessarily focus on complimenting your appearance and also makes sure to focus on your good personality traits too.

-If someone ever has the gall to make comments to your face about what you eat/what you look like, he immediately counters by telling you he thinks you look perfect while glaring daggers into the other person’s soul. His glare can wither flowers, after all. It’s pretty scary when he’s mad.

Urie

-Figures it out pretty quickly once you start dating. He confirms it when he comes to pick you up for a date and finds you in front of a mirror, sucking in your stomach and looking like you want to cry. He asks what’s wrong and you admit in a small voice that you can’t seem to find anything that doesn’t make you look fat.

-This will not do. This will not. Urie just in general hates it when one of his butterflies feels insecure about her looks. But you? His special butterfly? Nope. He won’t allow this.

-The first thing he does upon figuring it out is to grab you in a tight hug and proceed to shower you in affection, heartfelt compliments, and kisses. You’re perfection to him. How can’t you see that?

-The information that Urie thinks you’re beautiful might not honestly help that much to be honest. It makes you feel a bit better, but that doesn’t made your excess fat or your stretch marks go away. You know he likes you, but you still can’t bring yourself to like yourself. Urie doesn’t necessarily understand right away, to be honest. He told you you’re beautiful - why do you still feel bad?

-After he finds out what’s going on, Urie makes a point of showering you in compliments on a daily basis. 

-He also makes a list of all the places where you can get clothes that you think flatter you and what styles you think make you look best. If an especially well suited dress or shirt can make you feel way better about yourself, a bit of extra searching is well worth it.

-If anyone insults your looks to your face, they’re in trouble. Urie turns to you first, embraces you, gives you a kiss, and tells you that he thinks you look incredible. He then turns to the offender and gives them the most terrifying icy glare they’ve ever witnessed. This extends to anyone. Your sister, trying to convince you to diet with you, says that you “need it more than anyone else”? Urie gives her the nastiest look you’ve ever seen. Random guy in a restaurant asks if you’re “going to eat all that”? Urie’s expression sends him scuttling away.

Mage

-It takes him ages to figure out that you feel insecure about yourself. He finally puts two and two together when the both of you go swimming at the beach. You seem shy of changing out of your clothes and when you do, you’re wearing a very conservative one piece and wrap a towel around your shoulders when you sit down, covering up as much as possible. Mage doesn’t think that much of it until he catches you watching some other girls wearing bikinis with a weird expression on your face, and then it clicks. Mage asks if something’s up. You get embarrassed, but quietly admit that you’re jealous of them.

(Please note I’m not trying to say a one piece bathing suit means you’re insecure about something. I’ve never had a two piece bathing suit in my life, so I can’t criticize. I also am not trying to downplay that people wear them for modesty or just out of not wanting to show skin or for some other reason. I know there are plenty of other valid reasons. Just so we’re clear on that.)

-I actually headcanon that Mage prefers girls on the curvier side. He doesn’t get what the big deal is when he finds out that you’re insecure about your curves.

-But if it’s an issue that’s making you feel embarrassed about yourself, he cares. And once you’ve explained, he reassures you that he thinks you look great.

-Mage isn’t a super wordy guy, but he tries to make you feel as good as he can. He makes comments about how your clothes emphasize various parts of your body that he admires.  He shows appreciation for your physical traits and personality traits.

-He’s with you for your personality. But he thinks your looks are a pretty sweet bonus.

-He absolutely loves cuddling with you because you’re so soft.

-Just let someone try to make you feel bad about yourself. You’ll probably have to stop him from beating them up. If a family member makes comments, he won’t attempt this. He will, however, counter with a remark about how great he thinks you look and a death stare towards the offender in question. Your brother making a comment about how much room you take up on your seat? Mage almost rips his head off for it.

Shiki

-Shiki picks up on it when he catches you crying in your bedroom, your clothes all over the bed. He asks what’s up. You admit in a small voice that you have nothing that looks good on you.

- When he picks up on the fact you feel insecure, he responds by wrapping his arms and wings around you and reminding you of all the reasons he loves you.

-If Shiki knows you’re having a day where you feel bad about yourself, he’ll cuddle on the couch with you, wings wrapped around you and reminding you of all the reasons he likes you. Does he like your tears? Yes. But he just desn’t take any pleasure in seeing you feel insecure about something like that.

-He’s not that helpful about insecurity, to be honest, aside from the cuddling, but he definitely won’t say things he knows will make it worse. Honestly, he doesn’t care what you look like. Your personality drew him in, and your looks are just a bit of icing on the cake as far as he’s concerned.

-If someone makes a comment about you, he’ll pull you against him in a hug and made a disparaging comment about them. He’ll distract you with compliments, then go back and “deal with” the person later.

Lindo

-Lindo picks up on it pretty quickly. He helps you get ready for a party and sees you trying to make an old dress minimize your stomach. He sees you looking at fashion stuff online and saying things like “I could never wear that, not with my stomach”. He puts two and two together pretty quick.

-When he does pick up on it, he sits you down over dinner and talks to you about it. He asks if you think you’re healthy at the weight you’re at. If you say yes, he’ll say nothing more about it. If you say you don’t, he’ll ask if you want to change. If you say no, he’ll leave you at that. If you say yes, he’ll fully support you in making the change.

-Cooks healthy food for you regardless and does try to get you to develop good eating habits whether or not you’re trying to lose weight. It’s honestly not about your weight, he’s just trying to look after you by making sure you’re getting proper nutrition.

-He makes sure to compliment you and tell you that you look nice on a regular basis.

-Doesn’t let anyone make you feel bad. Like, seriously, don’t test him. When he hears your brother refer to you as a cow, they almost come to blows. Your brother never says a word about it again.

Roen

-He figures it out when you both go shopping for a nice dress for a party. You can’t find anything that looks good on you and you get so frustrated you start crying and babbling about how everything looks ugly on you and you feel like such an eyesore when you go shopping because you see other girls shopping and looking great in the same dresses. Roen is alarmed on hearing this and asks you how long this has been an issue. He’s horrified to find that you’ve felt this way for a lot of your life. His first act is to take both your hands and tell you that you’re exquisite at any size. His next is to get you out of there.

-Are you healthy? Yes? Then he’ll respect that. If you really need to lose weight, I have to say, he probably will gently pressure you to change your eating habits and exercise more. It’s not about your looks, though. It’s just that humans live such short life spans, why would you risk shortening yours even more? But he won’t ever intentionally make you feel bad about yourself. He likes you how you are, and makes sure you know it.

-If you want to exercise more, he’ll go on walks with you in puppy or human form, whichever you please.

-He really doesn’t like hearing you talk badly about yourself, especially about your appearance. Any time you start, he puts a finger to your lips and hushes you. He then proceeds to embrace you and tell you how lovely he thinks you are.

-Woe betide anyone who has the guts to make mean comments about your looks or eating habits to your face. Polite people who don’t lose their cool are honestly probably scarier than angry people when they’re upset. Be it a person on the street, a friend, or a family member, it usually goes about the same. He gives the person a cold stare and a short lecture, the lecture depending on what their comment was about. He doesn’t exactly endear himself to your mother when he catches her making a comment about how certain people would treat you more nicely if you “took better care of your appearance”, but he doesn’t really care about your mother’s opinions if that’s the kind of thing your mother thinks she should say to you.

[tokoyumi]

Title: She’s Still a Child

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia/My Hero Academia

Characters: Tsuyu Asui, Ochako Uraraka, Aizawa (Eraserhead), Izuku “Deku” Midoriya, Tenya Iida

Pairings: Tsuyu/Ochako (Very loose, interpret as friendship if you like!) 

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, friendship

Word Count: +2k

Summary: “ Everyone knew Tsuyu to be level-minded and calm in the worst of situations. Even when she comes face-to-face with death, she still manages to keep her focus; however, in the end she's still a teenager girl. “

Link from AO3

Link from FF.net

It was only a few days after the incident at USJ. The entire Class 1-A had gone there to undergo some extensive training on rescue maneuvers and what not. As situations never were predictable, it was up to them to understand what to do in worst case scenarios and how to protect civilians. Absolutely no one had anticipated villains appearing.

Tsuyu Asui had no idea what the other students had gone through during the attack besides Izuku Midoriya and Minoru Mineta. She had saw with her own, large eyes what villains could do and the horrors of what it truly means to be a part of a super-human society. Seeing her teacher’s face being repeatedly bashed into the ground as his skin had been disintegrated was one terrifying spectacle, but she herself had been on the very verge of death. If it wasn’t for Aizawa-sensei’s determination to activate his quirk at the last moment, well, there was no way Tsuyu could’ve been there in one piece. The rigid, gloomy hand on her face had haunted her for nights to come – but she never showed how she felt. That’s who she was, Tsuyu Asui, the hero who is able to stay calm in the direst of situations. That’s how she would become a great pro-hero one day, her calmness in the worst scenarios would help her assess situations and proceed with a focus mind and goal. That’s who she was going to be, but right now she was still a young teenage girl.

No child wishes to be a hero and remembers what villains truly are. Malicious. Corrupted. Violent. Evil. It was that moment of the villain’s attack that she truly recalled what it meant to be a hero. It meant sacrificing yourself for the greater good.

When Aizawa-sensei had walked into class, fully clothed in bandages, Tsuyu’s heart tightened. While she never showed it, the young girl asked if he would be alright considering all the damages he sustained. Only her, Izuku and Minoru saw first-hand how badly his injuries were and the mummy get-up didn’t truly tell the rest of the class how horrifying his condition actually was. The pro-hero only assured them that he would be fine in his state, and that school sport’s festival was approaching. The class lit up, happy to have something “normal” in their lives. But how can things be normal when they were being trained to fight villains?

After the announcements, Tsuyu had gone straight to her teacher before he left the room. Everyone was too busy to really notice her when she stood up, and Aizawa hadn’t thought someone would approach him regardless.

“Sensei.” She started, looking up at him with her hands in front of her. “I wanted to say thank you for saving me back during the attack – ribbit.” Tsuyu had always been someone to say what was on her mind, but for some reason she began to think careful about how to phrase what she wanted to say.

“If you hadn’t used your quirk while in so much pain, I don’t think-“ Her eyes darted to the ground before Aizawa placed one of his wrapped arms on top of her head.

“It’s a teacher’s job to protect his students. Considering the situation, you all did tremendously well on staying safe and protecting each other. You especially Asui, your ability to stay calm in situations like that will help you in the long run.” He waited for her to say something to which she replied with a nod. Aizawa nodded as well and left the room, heading towards the teacher’s lounge.

He planned to sought to the principal and ask for a trauma therapist for his students. Aizawa felt it was necessary for the students to have a professional to talk about the incident and see how they truly felt. No one had gotten seriously injured as they were all trained extremely well, but in the end they were all still children. Children who were still in their early development stages and something as terrifying as a villain attack could have shaken them up in some way. When Tsuyu Asui approached him, he knew that he needed to get the principal to agree on a therapist session. Sure, every single one of them were heroes-to-be and therefore they should treat every single one of them like a pro-hero adult, but that truly wasn’t the case. Every single one of the students had their own insecurities and worries, Aizawa was able to see it in every student. He would’ve comforted Asui better but considering how exhausted he was from his injuries in actuality, he was worried he might’ve said something unhelpful. He wasn’t a therapist, nor a parent. He was a teacher, yeah, but he needed help in raising these kids.

Tsuyu stood there by the door, staring down at the ground. Her hands were always kept up as it was comfortable for her, but when she looked down at her hands, the beating in her chest rose. Visions appeared before her, the villain’s hand, Aizawa-sensei’s disintegrated elbow and beaten face, then Izuku’s body lunging towards the villain. Her big eyes began to well up and she quickly went outside of the classroom.

With the announcement of the sports festival, the entire class was chatting away at what they’ve seen in previous years and what the possible obstacles were this year. Ochako had been listening to Deku’s rambles about the intricacy of the sports festival and Iida’s input when she noticed Tsuyu walk out of the door. The frog girl had become close friends with Ochako, being that were both girls in the class and got along really well. Normally she would’ve seen Mina turned around to chat with her but she had gone over to Denki and Kirishima to talk. Could she have been going to the bathroom? They usually went to the bathroom together before lunch, it was there time to talk and discuss what had happened during class (and that was usually when Ochako would ask for clarification on certain subjects she didn’t understand.)

“Uraraka? You okay?” The voice was soft, Deku had noticed how she was spacing out and staring at the space Tsuyu had been.

“Oh! Yeah! Sorry!” She laughed, rubbing the back of her head.

“We were just discussing about a few previous sport festivals, one in which my brother had participated in. I hope we aren’t boring you.” Iida added, readjusting his glasses.

“Ah, I wasn’t listening, I’m sorry but it’s totally not boring! I just saw Tsuyu walk out and was wondering where she was going, is all!” She explained, looking back to the closed door. Both Deku and Iida looked over to the door.

“Asui-san?” Iida hummed thoughtfully. “Perhaps it’s that time of the day when she needs to use the restroom.” He looked pretty happy with his probably obvious solution, but Deku looked towards Ochako with concern.

“I think maybe she went to check on Aizawa-sensei? Back during the attack we saw him in really bad shape and-“ Deku stopped, the scene unfolded in his head. When the villain’s hand had approached Tsuyu’s face he had seen the possibility of what could’ve happened to her. Tsuyu’s face was disintegrating, and while in his mind it seemed to look like falling blocks, the reality would’ve been much more gruesome.

“Deku?” Uraraka tilted her head at the other student who froze in place. He quickly rose to his feet, alarming both of his friends.

“I should go check on her!” Deku’s hand balled in a fist and held against his chest. He should’ve known there was something wrong with his classmate. Even though he always found Asui’s calmness during harsh situations to be astounding, Deku had forgotten that they were all human. Humans with worries and fears.

“Deku what’s going on?” Uraraka’s voice was laced with concern and slight panic. Iida followed suit.

“Could it be, something happened during the attack at USJ?” Iida’s conclusion was spot on, as usual though, it might’ve been obvious.

Deku wanted to phrase it lightly, not sure if Asui would want him to tell his classmates of her possible… death.

“Yeah… Something did. I don’t know if I should say but I want to check on her.” Deku began moving from his seat towards the door when his friends stopped him.

“Deku! Um-“ Uraraka didn’t really know how to phrase it. “If she’s not feeling well, I think she would be in the bathroom.” Both Deku and Iida stopped walking and turned to her. The two boys looked at each other. Oh.

“I’ll go in and talk to her, if you two want you can stand outside the bathroom!” While it was intended purely, both Deku and Iida realized the severity of being caught outside of the girl’s bathroom, just standing there… Waiting. Yeah, that wasn’t going to fly, even Mineta would be more stealthy than that when it came to seemingly perverted antics.

Iida cleared his throat. “I think it would be better for us to stay in the classroom.” He explained before Deku reluctantly nodded his head.

“Can you tell her that I’m also here for her if she needs to talk?” Deku asked, causing Uraraka to beam. He truly was “Deku” who could do anything. His concern for his classmates was exactly the trait of what a hero is supposed to be.

“Don’t worry, leave it to me!”

-- Tsuyu sat on one of the toilets in the stall, contemplating. Thinking. Crying. Being calm meant to not overthink, to realize your placement in the situation and take it one action at a time. People like Izuku were good at overthinking and assessing the situation too far, but it didn’t mean Tsuyu didn’t do it either. It was delayed, that was all. What would’ve happened if Aizawa hadn’t erased the villain’s quirk? How badly would her face ben damaged before she could pull away? Would she be able to pull away? Would she have screamed? If she survived, what would her family have thought? Would her siblings cry? Then again, would she have even survived to see her siblings? Thoughts like those racked in Tsuyu’s mind, with each scenario came a large tear that fell to the ground. She was never a loud crier, but the small hiccups mixed with ribbit noises was audible to anyone who would come in. If someone were to come in, she could just dismiss it with an excuse or not reply at all.

“Tsuyu…?” A gentle voice called out as the bathroom door creaked. A surprised hiccup mixed with a croak came from her mouth, causing her to flush and hold her hands over her mouth.

“Tsuyu are you in here?” It was Ochako. She recognized the voice pretty easily. Any ounce of calmness she had was gone as she continued to overthink. Did she notice her talking to Aizawa-sensei? Why did she come looking for her? Did she know? Tsuyu nearly forgot to respond because of the overthinking until she heard the shifting of feet.

“I’m in here – ribbit.” The smaller girl called out. A sigh of relief came from Ochako as she headed over to the stall she heard the voice from.

“I – and well, Deku too – wanted to see if you were okay.” She explained gently, standing in front of the stall door.

“Did…Izuku tell you anything?” Tsuyu asked, her heart beating fast again.

“No, he didn’t want to tell us anything you might not have wanted us to know!” Ochako replied in a reassuring tone. It did, in fact, reassure Tsuyu a bit to know that he had kept quiet about the incident. It really wasn’t something she wanted to tell everyone. It would probably lead to questions and then compliments on her calm demeanor. The only thing is, her entire personality didn’t revolve around being calm all the time. If people expected her to stay calm, she would always have to be. All of her fears would’ve been pushed back and piled until something like this would happen.

“If you don’t want to tell me, I totally understand! But I want you to know I’m here for you, okay?” Something about Ochako’s voice had kept Tsuyu reassured, helping her revert back to a calmness that wasn’t required under harsh circumstances.

Slowly the door opened and Ochako came face to face with a red-eyed, tear-stained Tsuyu Asui. Both girl’s hearts had fluttered. One, seeing a close friend had come to find her, while the other, saw her close friend in such a state led her nearly to tears herself.

Neither of them knew who approached her first, but the two of them embraced tightly, Tsuyu letting out all of her emotions on Ochako’s shoulder. Her cries became loud, mixed with hiccups and ribbits as giant tears streamed down her face. All of her emotions began pooling in that once embrace, even Ochako had begun welling up herself.

“I-I was so scared Ochako!” Tsuyu cried out, gripping tightly on her friend as she wept into Ochako’s shoulder.

“You’re safe now.” Ochako’s hand moved to rub Tsuyu’s back and her hair, holding the crying form closer to her. “You’re so strong Tsuyu, but you know you’re allowed to cry! You can always come to me to talk about how you’re feeling okay? Never keep it in.” In the moment, Ochako had considering kissing the top of Tsuyu’s head but chose against it. Instead, she leaned her face against the top of her head, keeping the embrace close and tight.

Tsuyu nodded her head against Ochako’s shoulder, sniffing as she rubbed her eyes with one of her hands.

They were both going to be pro-heroes, but at that moment they were two, high school girls. If anyone outside of Class 1-A were to see them, they might’ve considered a “normal” incident like “boy troubles” or “failed grades.” The situation was far more drastic, nearly life-threatening. Every student had considered the possibilities of events that could occur once they became a hero, but ever naively forgot those risks once they enrolled. Being a hero wasn’t bright and shiny, there was danger, risks, the possibility of being taken away by death’s hands.

In the end, they were children thrown into a world of evil. If it were any other students, they might have given up becoming a hero after a near-death situation. Class 1-A was different. They’ve learned from it, grown together as a class and became stronger. Being a hero meant seeing possible death, but it also meant saving the people you love from death. In that moment, Tsuyu felt empowered. She wanted to become a hero to protect the people she love and Ochako had reminded her of that love that propelled her into enrolling into U.A. She would become stronger, but she knew that there was someone she could reveal her inner self to when she needed it.

-- A soft knock on Ochako’s dorm door nearly caused her to jump right out of her skin. On hot, hungry days she would do her best to meditate into another kind of state. (She can’t spend money if she wasn’t fully there!) The knock occurred again, louder.

“I’m coming!” Ochako got up and fixed her shorts, walking over to the door. Maybe it was Mina asking if they all wanted to watch a movie together in the common living space. Maybe someone would bring popcorn and then she would be able to fill her stomach with something! The thought of it excited her until she opened the door and Tsuyu was there.

“Tsuyu!” Ochako’s excitement turned to concern when she saw Tsuyu’s face. It was serious, nearly dreary.

“Can I talk to you? –ribbit.” Of course, Tsuyu never had to ask, Ochako brought her inside her dorm and sat her down, listening to her.

The smaller girl had expressed her concerns and feelings that she felt what she said to Izuku and the others when they wanted to go save Bakugou was uncalled for. She had called them “no better than villains” and couldn’t help but regret what she had said. Of course her friends weren’t villains, but she had expressed what was on her mind during the exchanges. The words haunted her, even after they had rescued Bakugou and everything was seemingly well.

She embraced Ochako and begun to cry again, though softly. Ochako could only smile, happy to know the other girl was able to express her feelings. She ran a hand over Tsuyu’s hair and assured her that they were all still going to be friends, and that the best course of action was to talk to them.

“Don’t worry, I’ll help you out! If you want I can get them all to talk to you at night, and you can tell them how you feel. Is that okay?” Ochako asked, rubbing Tsuyu’s shoulder gently. She nodded in response and Ochako placed a kiss to the girl’s forehead.

[halfkryptn]

* BREAKING APART IN POINTS : BENDIS EDITION !

Comics: Man of Steel (2018) and Superman (2018). Other materials mentioned may be Super Sons (2017) and Adventure of Super Sons (2018).

A few warnings, that: (1) Beware of spoilers, if you’re interested in reading any of the comics above. If not, yeah my dude, go crazy. (2) This might not make sense since I’m pretty sure I’m rambling and have no specific idea on what truly I am doing ever with my entire life. Hopefully, once the current issues end (which, at this point, idk if I’ll honestly be following), there’s a more thorough and proper grasp on how my interpretation might go from there written much better.

Until then, have my thoughts sized up in point forms based on the garbage — I mean, material — that I’ve been given. Enjoy.

I’m just gonna go straight to the point.

Summary:

In Superman (2018), we discover that Clark’s alone. And he’s fighting. And there’s a lot of thoughts he’s processing about his journey and moral dilemmas etc. We found out in the first page that Jon and Lois are on a space trip with Jor-El, Clark’s birth father.

That’s all explained back in Man of Steel (2018) which, as I’ve read, was, fortunately for Bender, wasn’t that far off from how Tomasi has written Jon. There’s that softness in him that’s still there, and humours that only ten-year-olds and very Jon Kent-like that he executed, so I’m at least applauding Bendis for sticking to the interpretation of Jon we all knew so well.

Positive:

In all of that lack of butchering on Jon’s character from Man of Steel (2018), I do appreciate Bendis properly further pick apart Jon’s insecurities, especially after the whole solar flare thing and the prophecy that alternate version of Tim Drake brought.

I also cannot help but to appreciate how thoroughly well Bendis wrote on the reactions from both Lois and Clark at Jon’s sudden outburst regarding his insecurity, as well. Clark, especially, gave Jon excellent advises.

Here are the dialogues:

Jon discussing the prophecy.

Jon: Then why do I grow up to kill million of people?! Lois: What? Clark: What is this? Jon, frantically: There is another reality, okay? And I have seen it! Where -- where I grew up to be Superman, okay?! And then —— oh yeah, I kill millions of people with my out-of-control solar flare power!! That happens!

Clark giving the advice.

Clark: We can’t worry about all the different realities and timelines. I told you, it’s all just —— you have to focus on what is in here. And what you put out there. You worry about you. Not the other you or the other other you. ...or the guy that looks like you but he has a big goatee so we know he’s really the evil you. Jon: That guy’s actually funny... Clark: Those boys are just other boys. Just like Damian is a different boy. And just like you can’t be responsible for everything Damian does, you can’t be responsible for all of those other boys do too. Be your own self, and you are doing it, buddy. Every day. We’re so proud of you.

Jon opening up about his insecurity.

Jon: They rejected me. Clark: Who? Jon: The Titans. Lois: The Titans of--? Jon: The Teen Titans. The— The Gold Standard of the Superhero Team Dynamics.  Clark, whispering: Well, Justice League is really the Gold-- Jon: They said I wasn’t good enough! They said “Come back in a few years”! Clark: So? You will. Jon: But they rejected me because there’s something wrong with me!

So, yeah, Jon has never truly felt comfortable in his skin. Of course, there’s a lot to unpack from these dialogues and Jon’s journey so far as Superboy and what it all means, but we’re not going into details about that today. Point from these was: that it was in-character.

In fact, I was actually disappointed when this issue regarding Jon being rejected and the prophecy being told wasn’t previously addressed or addressed more, and when it was confronted out like these? It was actually refreshing to read.

Moving on, Jor-El offered to let Jon travel with him to find out who he is or whatever (I really couldn’t care less) and Lois decided that maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea. So she went along, and both Jon and her promised they’d be back once the Summer ends.

Ok. This is an important detail: Jor-El and the Kents stroke a deal to return before school starts. We continue.

Negative.

It starts getting wonky from there. The series leap back to Superman (2018), present time I assume, and Clark’s having these flashbacks of his perfect family when they were with him. Oh, and did I mention? He lost the only communication device that he had to connect with Lois and Jon.

We’re revealed in a flashback on an incident where Jon was complaining about school. Okay, let’s stop it right here. No.

There’s been several canon materials all throughout the Super Sons issues on how Jon likes school. Maybe, yeah, he’s not fond of the schoolwork. Typical. But he’s participated in school activities, he was engaging with his teachers, he was sociable to the point of being generally likeable all around that he was invited to a pool party.

Moving forward, Clark’s in this adventure of going through obstacles to save Earth while longing for his family, when, while deep in his thoughts about finding his father, he was approached by his son. Yup, Jon Kent.

But not any Jon Kent: an older version of him. His shoulders are broad, his face lost its baby fat, and he grew in into his much larger and sculpted form as he hovers and tells his Dad not to worry.

It has also been pointed out in leaked covers that Jon may be portrayed as sinister and... a killer.

Continuity Error.

Now not only we have small details that work against one another regarding Jon’s personality ( *refer to my argument on how Jon likes school above ) , I’m also caught confused by this interstellar bullshit they’re trying to pull and, understandably, could relate to many angry fans.

It doesn’t make sense and it isn’t fair. Admittedly, the flow of the story was still salvageable and Jon’s willingness to be separated from his father to properly get a hold of who he is, isn’t, yet, something to haul my pitchforks up for. Jon had even voiced out his concern about being brought back before school starts, and now we blasted by this appearance of him skipping about, oh, six to seven years of his life?

Not only that, we were robbed of Jon’s lovely growth and characterisation that Tomasi has carefully built. 

Think about it: wouldn’t Jon have demanded to return? Not only he had schools, obligations he knew he can’t afford to miss as Superboy and Jon Kent, but he’s a person who loves the people he knew and he was whole-heartedly devoted to Earth, which he had called his home a few times throughout his featured appearances because, guess what, Earth is the only fucking home he knows. 

And he made a promise to come home to his father. He made a promise to stand by Damian’s side, which, I think, at this point in his life, was a vow he’s taken to heart (since the vow involved his dad doubting Damian which, I think, he won’t stand for). He has family and friends that he adores like Kara, Kathy, Maya, Georgia etc. He wouldn’t abandon the people he cares for just like that. And even if he was somehow heavily influenced by Jor-El, wouldn’t Lois be raising her voice once the she figured out the communicator wasn’t working?

Let’s not even get into the fact that, with Adventures of Super Sons (2018) existing simultaneously with this issue, both of these stories clashes with each canon materials.

In Bendis’ interpretation, Jon went on and grew up in out-of-space directly after the events of the solar-flare and the rejection during Summer. Meanwhile Tomasi continues to write Jon having multiple adventures with Damian in the exact same season. You guessed it: Summer. The season Jon supposedly isn’t on Earth at all. 

Then again, of course, one can argue that maybe this isn’t the same summer when they’ve hinted Jon outgrowing his Superboy clothes. But consider: Why would Jon still be hung up on the same worry from when he was a ten-year-old, if this had happened when he was eleven? Or Twelve? If he’d been older, I bet this is a worry he would’ve blurted out sooner than to let it simmer till he’s eleven or twelve.

Tomasi also hinted that the adventures didn’t stop between the son of Batman and son of Superman, and that Jon and Damian actually grows up together.

So, yeah. Continuity error. Clashes of plot. Whatever you call it, it’s here.

In Conclusion.

There’s still so many issues of the current series that I, admittedly, haven’t gone through since it’s yet to be published. So, I don’t know. Maybe Bendis will shock me into accepting his canon, or maybe I’ll continue to live in a make-believe world where Jon was never abducted by his grandfather and, instead, works his issues out with the people who’re already there.

please don’t reblog !!