#(ironically the only reason i typed 'one of' instead of 'the one' is that i had to stop myself going 'wait. Kanda and Alma.')

[olderthannetfic]

I always see people who have never been antis, talking about/questioning how some antis even ARE antis when you look at their taste in media - ie the ever famous joke of "Hannigram is #problematique" "but it's a show where he eats people" or whatever.

I thought I'd weigh in as someone who could, hypothetically, be called an ex-anti (which, thankfully, nothing ever really came out of it - it was just very 2014 keyboardwarrior-esque behavior of me being a chronically online young adult who would share posts in a group chat making fun of certain shippers, or reblog posts about how 50shades is The Most Problematic Media Ever to exist -- basically I was an anti with anti-lines of thoughts, but i never, like, a ran a Shipping Discourse Blog or whatever)

For me, personally, it was a few different things. I can now see how it's incredibly hypocritical that teenaged me shipped Light/L, while still thinking that Dramione was Bad And Abusive. It ultimately boiled down to a) being pretentious, and b) just not understanding media or what proshippers REALLY believed, with a side of c) not realizing that nuance exists. like i was pretty late to join tumblr, I think I immigrated here during PEAK "yourfaveisproblematic" era which definitely did have an impact on my opinions and my tastes.

to elaborate, a.) being pretentious. i mean this one just kinda goes without saying. "I engage in media in a way more intellectual way than you do, don't you know that? You're a filthy and disgusting person who writes Snape/Hermione because you're an actually disgusting pedophile IRL who would probably date your own student that you're abusing if you could. Meanwhile, I'm a very smart, good, and pure person. When I read Uncle Vernon/Harry, I'm doing it in a G-d honoring whump way that clearly condemns abuse, incest, and rape. Unlike YOU who only writes harmful stuff as a way to get people off :/"

(as an aside, i think this line of thinking will ALWAYS be present in fandom and popculture in some way, sadly. ie the recent trend of people hating on booktok bc the books are 'trashy' and how these porn addicts should read real classic literature instead.)

as for b.), not understanding media - i cannot emphasize enough that i was GENUINELY stupid and disconnected enough to think that proshippers REALLY WERE pro-All Of The Degenerate Dead Doves That They Wrote.

why did i feel this way? why did i understand that Lolita clearly isnt pro-pedophilia, but for some reason i thought that someone shipping weecest was? well, first of all, i think that fanfiction is (generally) seen as Less Serious than classic literature, and fandom is a fun place, so i guess i somehow thought that every fanfic/fanartist who wrote Problematic Things, especially Problematic Things that they portrayed as Sexy, really DID enjoy the thought of that Actually Happening To Real People.

and i think THIS is the bulk of why antis ARE antis. i'm not calling them all stupid - i do think BEING an anti is stupid, but at the same time, there are people who are truly smart and good-intended people who just have some really off color opinions about, like, homestuck ships or whatever. Lawlight is okay because notebooks that kill people don't exist so it's IMPOSSIBLE for the Harmful Aspects of Light/L to be romanticized! but schoolyard prejudiced bullies DO exist and are a REAL problem so Drarry is BAD (*truly completely unaware of the fact that there's 'realistic' aspects of the Light/L dynamic and 'unrealistic' aspects of Drarry - such as, for example, Hogwarts arguably being even MORE of a fantasy setting than DN is.*) I know that media literacy is the hot buzzword of the year to throw around in 2024, but, like, i really did not have media literacy.

as for c.), not realizing nuance exists - ok "nuance" might not be the best word here, but i dont know how else to describe it. like, each time ive typed the word "problematic" out in this ask, i've done so in a very tongue in cheek/ironic/retroactive way, but, like, those posts about how Everything Is Problematic, Including Your Fave ARE true. and i didn't like the fact that my favorite media or favorite person might've Made A Mistake! i need to Talk About Its Issues Because I'm So Betrayed That My Dear Sweet Comfort Media Would Do This To Me. I Need To Prove I Clearly Condemn It.

like, i legit morally could not justify reblogging a twilight post without adding in the tags '#this is my guilty pleasure it sucks that the books were so racist though' or whatever. Most people were lucky enough to avoid that line of thinking, but there was an actual group of people who felt a genuine need to virtue signal all the time, partly bc, hey, they WERE passionate about talking abt #issues in media, but also bc of a subconscious fear of If You Reblog A Singular Piece Of Hetalia Fanart, You're Literally A Nazi And Will Get A Callout Post Written About You.

and during all of this i was at the tail end of my high school experience (yes i know im younger than most of your audience, ha). i was going through A Lot emotionally, going through a lot of life changes, and lived in a very . . . interesting household/place where i couldn't do ACTUAL good in the world that i was passionate about. so to make up for the fact that i was genuinely in no place to do legit activism, clearly i had to save the gay community by arguing about johnlock queerbaiting or whatever.

^ and honestly i do think that is the position of most antis. theyre isolated and cant seem to do Enough in the Real Scary World so they have to resort to talking about how bad of a person someone is for "shipping abuse", bc theyre not in a situation where they could, for example, ACTUALLY fight the good fight to end abuse or raise awareness for it.

There was way more to it and way more that I could say, if I wanted to, but this post is long enough as it is and probably doesn't make much sense.

I feel bad for antis, honestly, or at least the ones who are antis in the way I used to be.

--

Oh yes, passionate young fools who think they can at least fix the internet if not their lives make up most of the cannon fodder. Some of the ringleaders are just mini dictators and wannabe cult leaders, but most anti-leaning types are just traumatized or clueless, even a lot of the ones who do serious damage and don't just mock shit in private with their friends.

[delugguk]

Only Mine, Nobody Else's.

pair: jungkook x reader.

genre: stablished relationship, smut, fluff.

word count: 5.4K

warnings: unprotected sex.

summary: there's you, who finds little things like eating perilla leafs as normal. then there's him,who finds such topics as horrendous. for him, this type of convos shouldn't even exist. so who'll win this battle? it's better to find out, now.

a/n: hellooooo here's the alternative version of THIS. finally!! I wrote this the same day I published the first drabble but never got to finish it until now, so I hope you enjoy this hehe. I really love them ㅠㅠ but I'll shut up now and enjoy their cute dynamics 😩 I'm sorry I took toooooo long to post but my irl schedule is kinda ass :( LET ME KNOW YALL REACTIONS!! I do appreciate it 👉🏼👈🏼🥺

everything can happen during dinner but.. let me explain, okay?

when you start a topic.. normally, your smart and super interesting boyfriend rambles around until he can't stop his pretty mouth from moving - not that you complained though, you adore listening to him.

but as interesting as it could be, there was some nights were each topic jumped from fun conversations to.. sudden serious ones.

like tonight.

A new trend has seemed to flow around socials making everyone have these interesting conversations that.. you're not really sure if you vibe with them to be honest - but it is what it is as soon as seho, jungkook's best friend, brings this topic to the table.

and yep, you wanted to chop his balls right in that moment.

you could swear you were having a good time until that moment came. you and jungkook were oblivious to the matter for some reason so when you're having dinner with your friends, this sudden theme really got you out off guard because you just knew how jungkook was gonna get.

"so what is it about?" jungkook asked and now that you think about it, you wished he could just.. not pay attention but.. oh well.

"well, it's basically a question about.. you letting somebody else help your girlfriend separate her perilla leaf-"

"hell nah." jungkook cuts him out of his sentence.

damn.

"wait.." seho's chuckles, "you didn't even let me finish and you're already prohibiting that from happening." finding the situation funny.

you only ironically rolled your eyes with an ironic smile too.

"you make questions knowing well the way he is.." you say but it wasn't annoying.

"what's love if there's not a little spice to it?" he laughs. oh you hated him.

not really. but you know what I mean.

jungkook's just listening until he began to speak with a cocky grin. "do you really think I'll let y/n get feed by another man?" a small scoff of a laugh leaving his mouth, "yeah sure." as he brushes his hair back with both hands.

just laying back on his sofa, casually looking so fine. but this wasn't the time to think about that.

"It doesn't necessarily have to be a man, you know? It's just any other friend." says yoongi.

"whatever, I don't care. I wont allow it."

you chuckle. "mm.. why not?" sounding more curious, but you really wanted to know why he is so against it. "I don't see nothing wrong about sharing food?"

"not this way??"

"exactly?" seho's following just after jungkook.

"you, shut up." you point at seho. - now looking back at jungkook, "what do you mean 'this way'?"

"mm.. babe, this isn't just something you can share, you know?"

"but.. why not?"

both him and seho sigh. but just before they could talk, luckily, the theme dies as soon as yoongi successfully changes the topic to some stupid funny video he saw these days.

the fact that seho knows about jungkook's possessive/jealous behaviours makes this worst. they're like best friends, for god's sake.

after that little moment, not even a single wrinkle of happiness painted on your boyfriend's face but a slight eyebrow furrowing instead and it's just that his reaction to the matter was... priceless.

jungkook had so much to say but so little to think.. completely blinded by the thought of someone feeding his girl, this obviously wasn't going to end here.

..and you both knew it.

when you arrive to your apartment, jungkook didn't wasted any time to continue your conversation and it's just that.. he was so predictable sometimes, or maybe you knew him too well.

"what did you meant about that?" his voice sounds genuinely curious when he closes the door behind you.

"about.. what?" taking off your jacket as you respond, he smacks his lips in annoyance.

"you know what I'm talking aboutㅡ bam, hi" voice suddenly changing into a whisper-y cute tone when he kneels down to kiss his son.

"..hm?" and as he gets up, he takes your hand leading into the living room.

he seats first. tattooed hand giving little soft but strong palms at the other side of the sofa when he motions you to seat beside him.

when you cross your legs, you give yourself just the perfect enough space between him and you just so you don’t get any other contact with his dangerous body 'cause right now this wasn't your sweet, sweet boyfriend at his best. - not that he’ll do something bad to you, but because you were very weak when it came to having him close..

"are we.. really having this conversation?”

blinking many times as if it wasn't obvious, "uh.. yeah??" he answers.

you sigh. "okay." pausing, "shoot."

"do you really not care?"

"about what? food?"

he glances at you.

you exhale. "It's not that I don't care. It's more of me.. thinking it's not that serious."

his mouth drops into a little gasp. "how isn't it that serious? my friend could easily be feeding you.. you."

"so?"

"so???" he feels so offended. "are you really-"

"no, okay, wait. I do care about that. I dont agree about them feeding me. I don't like that either.. what the hell." you confirm because you realize. "what I'm trying to say is, they won't be feeding me."

"how?"

"because they will just help me separate the leafs, silly. they don't necessarily have to give them in my mouth?"

"but most people do. unconsciously."

"you do?"

"yes. and I think you can tell. I always do it with you."

"but that's because we're dating.."

"it's because I like you. romantically, silly." he flicks your head, making you blink.

"of course, so that makes sense!" you say. "I don't think a random friend will-- wait, friends can also do it if they like you.. as a friend?"

"uh-uh” he nods his head. “that doesn't exist when it comes to this food."

"what's so different about this?"

"you really don't know, huh?"

nodding your head, you shrink your shoulders as you keep silent for a few seconds and he crosses both his arms looking at you with narrowed eyes.

“what?” you playfully exclaimed as you’re also confused but jungkook just pushes his hair back once again, taking a big breather followed with an exhale. “babe," you continue, hands cupping his face. “tell me.” as your face gets closer, eyes trying to read his.

"they could touch your lips with the tip of his fingers." he says. big pupils staring at your lips when he’s soon piercing your gaze.

you do notice. butterflies in your stomach, god.

“no, they won't."

"yes they will and I can't let that happen."

you sigh. "babe, is not that big of a deal. you act as if that will make me fall in love with them.” then you pause to say, "which, it would never happen, by the way."

"but you could."

"no, I won't." you affirm.

"yes? you would." but he keeps being stubborn..

"no? I wouldn't?"

you both pause staring at each other and you roll your eyes.

"I still stand with what I said during dinner though." leaning back on his seat, you’re not longer cupping his face.

"honey, me helping your friend or my friend isn't going to change anything."

"you never know.."

"I think you should stop watching too many dramas. their messing with your little head." you playfully say while softly pulling one of his hair strings.

but he rolls his eyes. "how can you say that?" starting his funny drama. "those things definitely doesn't affect the way I think.." he pauses. "but If that was the case, then they'll be totally right because If it happens in dramas it could happen in real life."

"You're delusional.."

"No I'm not?"

"..and you want me to take you seriously?”

“babe.” jungkook warns, voice sharp.

“okay, okay..” you side smile. “I get it.”

“can you listen to me?”

"always."

"you can't.. you can't still do it for him or anybody that isn't me." he’s serious but his voice is so endearing..

taking a deep breath, you rest one hand against your cheek when you look directly into his eyes. "why though?"

"because I say so."

"mm… that still don’t help."

"yeah, it does."

"you can't just give me that answer as your reason why?"

"just did."

you lightly punch his shoulder. "jungkook!"

he laughs.

“you’re being childish right now.” you fake cry.

"okay, okay.." breathing, he goes back to being serious. "either way you still can't help."

rolling your eyes for the 281 time, you annoyingly respond with, "are you going to keep saying that?" pausing. "like is this about you thinking that's how I'll end up falling in love with somebody else? or… what?”

"mm.. yeah?" he's sarcastic. "Isn't it obvious?"

"how is it obvious?" you frown your eyebrows.

"because he'll give you one perilla leaf and you know how.. when somebody can't separate them, sometimes there's have to be another person to help, right?" he breathes as you nod. "well.. that person is, of course, you!" he argues, "and that could make you end up holding hands with him!”

"I- what?" he's unbelievable.

“as soon as I blink!" he continues - pointing at his eyes. "he has already taking you away from me!"

your reaction is.. well, you don’t even know how to react as he says all of this. only thing that could leave your mouth was, "jungkook.. you can't be serious now.."

"well I am?" he’s all pouty and annoying but you needed to make him understand your point of view and that’s all you think when his hands are lightly hitting his own thighs in frustration.

"well, that's ridiculous." now you’re the one leaning back into your side of the sofa.

"It is not?!"

"It is, and it doesn't even makes sense. I won't hold somebody's hand just because they helped me?" you blink several times as something that’s so obvious.

"but- how can you say that? this does makes sense and it can totally happen!"

then pausing, you decide to tease him instead even though you’re still serious. “are you, perhaps.. talking by experience? ..and that's why you're saying this to me?"

"no!” hands brushing his own face in frustration. "that's not why I'm saying this."

"then why you get so mad about it? It doesn't make sense to me. explain how it works because I do not understand and believe me when I say I'm having a hard time trying to." giving up, you give him a good opportunity to make you understand his point of view in full detail but that’s only if he want it though. you weren’t going to force him to do anything.

he was clear of it.

as soon as you said that, jungkook takes a short time of silence to think. rubbing his chin, rubbing his face.. you can clearly see he's really making up his mind for the way he keeps zooming out into his complex mind.

that could be pretty sometimes.

"let’s say.." he quickly nibbles his lip ring as his dimples slightly pronounce more and that's when you confirm for the second time that he wants to make this right. "..you have a friend, a girl friend.” you nod as he speaks. “and she needs help to separate all of her perilla leafs.."

"Aha.." you slowly nod your head.

"would you like it if I help? It'll take a lot of time.." his eyes feel so heavy looking at yours like he really wants you to say what he think is the right answer..

"..yes?"

but your answer is still very.. unbothered and that makes jungkook open his mouth with both hands on his head in a dramatic manner.

"yes???" he’s back to being exalted. “that’s really your answer?” he chuckles but it’s not even a friendly one. more of a sarcastic one.

“I mean.. what do you want me to say?! I just think it’s normal?”

“n-normal?” and there’s that sarcastic grin all over again. “why.”

"because.. it's just food?"

he covers his face in disbelief. "but I'm the one giving it to them.." he pauses. "Isn't it like if I was deeply caring for them? that's why it's wrong! It can look bad."

"not for me.." you look around.

he sighs for the 10th time smacking his lips as he reveals, "babe, you can't help others with perilla leafs because it'll look like you have second intentions with them."

"who said that?" now you're the one rolling your eyes.

jungkook sighs, rubbing his eyes. "it’s something to flirt about.”

“flirt?”

“yeah." he leans his body a little closer to yours, staring at your eyes almost intensely. you felt tension. not a bad one necessarily.

"have you done that?" genuine question.

"no!" he whines with the same pout on his lips. "why do you keep asking me this?”

“genuinely curious.. and you’re saying a lot of things.” you say.

he rolls his eyes. “I know a lot of people that do it..”

“how?”

"well.." he takes one of your hands to caress it while he speaks, "you know how hard they are to separate, right?"

"yeah..?"

"you normally will have to lean closer to that person in order to do so." he pauses. eyes piercing at yours when his voice goes two tones down. "people like closeness."

you nervously clear your throat. "ah.. yeah," immediately changing the direction this was taking— "so.. imagine we're eating on a cute restaurant-“ you fix your posture and jungkook only grins to himself. he has made you feel nervous.

he liked that.

“…with a friend, it doesn't matter if it's a woman or man” he nods, paying attention to your words. “and I can't help like you said.."

“aha..?”

“if I’m minding my business in that situation but my friend needs help, does that mean you’ll be the one helping them?”

"of course not." tone? annoyed and very serious.

"why not?"

"because I don't care if it's a woman or man, I shouldn't be helping anybody that isn't you. MY girlfriend."

that kinda made your stomach flip, let's not lie here.

"but then who'll help them eat?"

"nobody."

"jungkook!" you call him out.

but all he does is shrink his broad shoulders. “what? It's easy! nobody helps them! don't they have arms of their own?" he annoyingly responds.

"but that's so ass. it's not like you're giving them food directly into their mouth?!"

"..and? I still don't care! If I say you shouldn't then you shouldn't."

you raise your eyebrows. “okay boss?”

jungkook exhales, “I'm not saying that. but.. it’s just what's obvious? I can't help either and we're dating."

"..and you're possesive."

"I'm not possessive.

"yes, you are."

"okay, maybe a little but I'm not most of the time."

and that makes you laugh for sure. “see how you shamelessly lie to yourself, gosh.”

now he’s the one raising his eyebrows. “lie? do you want to know what’s a real lie?” he questions.

“yes.” you sarcastically smile.

“the fact that I don’t want to fuck for your stupid answers and the way that I hate how my solution to this has to be to fuck you silly.” then he whispers to himself, “fuck.” really wanting that to happen.

you were frozen, didn’t expected him to say all that. he’s surely crazy too because why did he had to say it while having that nasty smile on his face? why.

“then why don’t you act on it?” you tease back.

“because that’s a “lie”. he smirks, “told you I’ll say a real lie.”

“I hate you.”

“no, you don’t.” he smiles but then, goes back to the main theme. “listen to me, doing that.. I just think it’s thoughtful. like you’re clearly showing you deeply care for that person, you know?” then he pouts, “from my point of view.. we should be the only ones helping each other.. nobody else.”

you sigh. “okay.. I see what you mean. but I still think it depends on how you perceive it though.”

“fine, now you’re the one who needs to explain.” he said that with a slightly annoyed tone that made you chuckle.

“I think you keep seeing it as something romantic and that’s why you can’t accept it.”

“..and you think it’s not?”

“if I considered that to be romantic you think I’ll be reacting this way?”

“…no..”

“there’s your answer.” you smile.

"just.." he exhales. "take care of me and me only, yeah?" plastering his forehead against yours, his palms holds your cheeks ever so delicately when he says, "I will not feel comfortable if you take care of others in that manner when you have me. specially me. your boyfriend." voice so soft while pointing at himself and god, does he was really cute sometimes. "…would you like it if I took care of your friends?"

and at that question you take your time to think.

"I think it depends on the person too, jungkook.."

"why?" he responds as he is genuily curious.

"because.. Imagine if the friend we’re eating with needs help with their perilla but let’s say I’ve eaten that many times with them and everything was always fine,” jungkook nods his head as he carefully listens. “..so in this case, since they’re my friend I know them the most right?”

"yeah."

“but they’re asking for help, your help, when I know they could handle themselves just right..”

“I see where this is going..” there’s a little building smile on jungkooks lips.

“me seeing them acting dumb just so you could help them— of course that’ll make me definitely jealous.”

"you see?!" he suddenly raises his voice in excitement. "that's what I'm saying!" smiling brightly at you.

"but I'll be more mad because of you not noticing this person second intentions!" you defend yourself. "and because my friend must know I'm obviously dating you!"

"but see? you'll still get jealous, and this just meansㅡperilla leafs could lean into romance! you basically said it yourself! It's a way of flirting.." he says, looking very triumphant.

and at his reaction, you just roll your eyes smiling through it because you can't help it at this point.

"yeah..whatever!" you rapidly correct yourself in which he laughs. "all I'm saying is.. that I could only get jealous in circumstances like these because then I'll know this friend is obviously shamelessly flirting with you."

"but I wouldn't be falling in love with them." he says.

then suddenly, being caught off guard, you blink. “meaning… that you’ll help?”

"nope, I still wouldn't." he warmly says. "since I can't be comfortable with you doing it, I have to keep on my word. I can't do things that I wouldn't like someone do to me." then he adds, "and I would not fall in love with them, because I love you." he finishes saying when he plays with your fingers and his eyes tenderly lingers at yours.

"but.. you never know." voice small, you shyly say.

"no, I'm clear of it." affirming with a confident side smile. "I only have eyes for you, love." he says, gently grabbing one of your hands to leave a lingering kiss on top of it when your eyes can’t stop looking at his sweet actions. you do adored him so much..

"shit, I can't even look at other girls if it isn't you. I love you too damn much." he then chuckles when your laugh merges with his.

lovey dovey eyes staring at his.. “I love you too..”

with a smile on your lips, he mirrors your face too.

that night you both ended up fall sleep hugging each other on his big sofa. you thought you couldn’t get more comfortable than this.

the other night though..

“should I fuck you? nah… I don’t think you deserve it.”

you must’ve seen this coming. eager times always results into this. mostly when a jealous jungkook was very much present. you couldn’t believe how you were so easily lured into his words but the more you get to know and see the new sides of your boyfriend, the more you fell in love and the more you get turned on by him.

you couldn’t resist him in situations like these and it’s just that a jealous jungkook wasn’t just something you got to see everyday. he is normally pretty chill, but whenever he wasn’t.. oh boy.

…you whine with that. "Jungkook.."

"Jungkook, what? now you wanna beg?" a smug grin paints his lips.

you whine as you try to squeeze your legs.

"mm-uh." he opens your legs once again. "don't even dare to take this view away from me."

"but I'm so wet.."

"I know baby. but I can't fuck you if you keep playing around when I'm so serious." he pauses and gives you a hungry daring stare. "dead serious."

"I won't let anyone else fuck me if it isn't you."

"are you sure about that?"

"one hundred percent."

"No lies?"

"No lies."

and he smiles when a finger slides through your clit up and down teasing on it. "torturing you is like torturing me.." he sighs. "fucking wet." licking his lips. "want to eat you again."

"no," you fake cry still feeling his now, moist fingers. "fuck me. I want you to fuck me."

"is that so?"

"eunggg"

“you will have to keep waiting then.” he smirks before going down on you all over again.

"fuck, I love eating your pussy so much. always so wet and greedy for me." his voice’s raspy when he spits on it, just adding more into your dripping pussy. "I love making a mess out of you." he groans.

his tongue rapidly moves up and down as he adds a certain weight on it that makes you want to scream your lungs out. - making out with your clit, one finger slides caressing your folds very teasingly.

"jungkook.." you cry.

"what, baby?" he lowly breathes, eating your cunt still. just this time looking up at you.

when you look down the sight is just so fucking hot. your hands hold onto his hair as he gives you those puppy but very dominant eyes. he loves teasing you like this. he knows how much you love when he treats you like this.

"babe.." your hips thrust into his mouth. as you expose your neck to him.

jungkook leaves a slow kiss into your clit very sensually. "fuck.." he sighs as your arousal mixed with his saliva, dripped down your ass. your pussy pulsating and clenching like crazy. "what do you want?" voice raspy.

"fucking make me cum, babe. please" you whine, trying to touch your clit with your fingers the moment jungkook stopped eating you. - he takes his hands off you.

"not yet baby.. can't let you cum just yet." he sensually and very much needy bites his lower lip. piercing just shining. him very full of desire, just wanted to slide his hard dick along your wet folds. he wanting to feel you coating his length. make a mess out of you, make you beg for him to get fucked - to want him to destroy you. he wanted you to be left thinking about him only, to let you know how you were his and his only even though he was pretty sure he couldn't claim a person, neither you. but he still very much wanted to. he wanted you to scream you were his and his only. he wanted to have you whole. he also wanted to punish you for ever thinking about having help for someone else but him. is not like nobody could help you but why would you ask or need another person's help when he was right there? it made no fucking sense.

he could be seems as calm and collected from outside but his want and need into wanting to ruin you, begging for him until his name could be marked onto your skin were just fucking growing so much. he wished he could just have you like this forever.

"you make me fucking crazy. I shouldn't even be treating you like this. I should let your fucking pussy scream for me. be left untouched until it's begging for me to be touched." he murmurs, palming himself with one hand as his other one rest on your thight and his legs keep yours spread out enough to feel every blow of breeze as he constantly slaps his dick on your clit from time to time and the sticky sounds going in and out of his head made him want to devour you and swallow you whole. he felt feral, his point of possessiveness getting the best of him but fuck, you deserved this. he needed to show you to fucking behave and not say that stupid shit in front of him -or anyone- ever again. It shouldn't even be a topic of conversation at this point. It should be obvious too.

so that's why he's sliding his thick length along your slit and juices, hissing and cursing to himself a lot - closing his eyes every now and then because his desire into fucking your sopping pussy was getting into him.

"I fucking want you all to myselfㅡfuck." he moans. "I can't let nobody else see you like this." he then exhales, tilting his head back while closing his eyes. "only me.. fuck."

"I want to fuck you so bad but you don't deserve it." he tortures himself.

you cry and move your hips along him for more friction and it's so sticky between both your genitals, you feel so horny for him.

"why do you do this to me.." his lidded eyes gazes at you. "..hm?" he slaps one of your thighs. "you want me to fuck you stupid?" he takes both your legs, placing them at the side of his shoulders. "Is that what you want?" he pants, voice heavy and gone while he continues teasing his tip between your folds. "fffuck.. tell me - baby.. do you want me to fuck you so bad?"

"nngn yes.." you cry, feeling very hot and needy for him. your hips keep moving with tip and the feeling was so hot.. you were so wet it was an absolute mess down there. "babyㅡfuck. fuck me please.. fuck me." you beg.

"tell me how bad you want me to." he watches as his dick masturbates along your legs. he starts slow, later on hard when he's already starting moving his dick back and forth, pressing a bit hard on your pussy between your folds. "should I let you have it?" he scoff clicking his lips and a grin playing along. his legs also getting sticky with your arousal. "I don't think so.." he teases.

"baby please.." you arch your back, body distorting, nipples very much erect, your own hand squeezed your boob. shit, you wanted him so fucking bad. "I won'tㅡah. I won't do that again." you look at him with pleading doe eyes.

"do what?" he dares. eyes cloudy as he glances at his tip rubbing against your needy pulsating clitoris.

"ask stupid questions like that ever again." you moan as you try to open your legs but he keeps them close to his neck, adding more pressure to his dick. breathing hard.

"stupid, huh?" he rasps, chuckling a little about it. lidded eyes piercing at you. his tip moving a little more sensual and faster along your clitoris. He gives small slaps to it while he slides his tip.

It feels so good.

"mhmh-" you feel like crying, the pleasure only rising.

his cocky laugh resonating through your whole body.

"wish you’ve said that earlier.." he whispers. "because then I wouldn't be fucking losing my mind right now." pausing. "you're mine okay?" he says while introducing himself into your needy hole.

the moment he introduces himself, you’re squeezing him so hard he can barely fully put his dick in. "fuckㅡbaby, relax." jungkook opens his mouth into a gasp. "do you want me to cum now?" breathing heavier.

“nno.. but you feel so goood.” you swallow your words when you feel the leaks of your pussy. jungkook is the only person that has ever made you feel this horny.

“fuck.. baby.. how am I so lucky?” he said that one last thing more to himself than you.

after not taking it anymore he makes you ride him instead. “jump on me.” and you do. “fuck yeah, nice and hard baby.. so good..” as he holds your waist with his big hands.

eyes looking up and down your body it was as if he was admiring you. the woman he has in front of him. the perfect sculpture ever made, the hottest girl he has ever crossed his heart and eyes into. it was getting a lot so his natural reaction was to delicately examine each part of your body like how his hands fit so perfectly into your waist, they way your vagina swallowed him just right.. how wet you always were for him.. just the fact that you wanted him just as much as he wants you makes him crazy. the way you close your eyes with each jump or bite your lips giving him that pretty nasty look with a side fucked out smile he loves so much.. you were so sensual, he absolutely loved that.

“I love you so much.” he says before leaning your body against his just so he could start fucking you back and that made you scream.

“agh! mmfuck”

he was going sort of fast and deep just how you like it. the way you could feel his breathing against your neck made your nipples get harder but also because of the little rubs in had with his chest. you tried putting your boobs on his face which was a success so jungkook started to lick them or tried to because he was fucking you so fast now it was getting messy.

“I want to cum.” you say as you’re getting close.

“don’t cum like this.” he answers when he’s already flipping you stomach down, ass up. “let me see that pussy swallow my cum.” when he slaps your ass making you arch your back.

“fuck.”

you closed your legs and leaning your chest into the bed. this position making you hold your boyfriends dick a bit tighter.

he exhales with a ‘ho’ sound when he slaps your ass once again. “you just get better, hm baby?”

damn it he sounds so fucked out.

you felt so full you couldn’t take it anymore. “I’m gonna cum!”

“fucking do it, I can’t wait neither.”

as soon as you do he starts fucking you with paused but hard and deep thrusts. your legs were shaking, it’s like he knows exactly how to get you over it. when he cums inside you, the sight of it was what made him more crazy.

“swallowing my cum just right, huh? fuck..” he squishes your ass to the point it leaves a red stain. “how you’re still so deliciously tight….”

and without noticing, you were horny once again..

if you were going to tell everything that happened that night.. you’re sure you wouldn’t handle to finish with just a few paragraphs but you could guarantee that everything that happened was worth enough to let anybody with more than their mouth open..

[bi-writes]

again and again | the mandalorian

he comes when i call. every single time.

type: one-shot pairing: the mandalorian x afab!fem!reader word count: 4.3k (quick work while i try and finish the 10k+ monster in my drafts) warnings: mature language and content, mature written sexual content, 🔞⚠️ (warnings under the cut) summary: the mandalorian is not very nice when he's jealous. but he can be nice to you. complete masterlist

concept art chosen: "envy" (2007), "jealousy" (1895)

detailed warnings: 18+ smut, size kink (reader is described as smaller than the mandalorian, able to be moved by him easily), possessive!mandalorian, soft!dom!mandalorian -> read at your own discretion

You had been here before.

Not this cantina, exactly. Not this planet. But you had been here before, in an outfit this small, in a room much too loud, feeling the glare of eyes you didn’t even know the fucking color of.

You were not quiet about your presence here. If you were being honest with yourself, you left a messy trail to your whereabouts in hopes a certain bounty hunter would follow your breadcrumbs. You had a feeling he would not be able to resist. You had a feeling that he would get a whiff of you, and not be able to stop himself from getting a peek, a glance, a taste of even just a strand of your hair or a trace of your footprint in that big, shiny helmet of his.

You smoothed out the front of your skirt as you shuffled your way to the bar. You had to elbow a few organics out of the way, but you finally had the droid in your sight, and you banged your palm against the bar counter for a refill.

If you were being even more honest with yourself, you would admit you dressed up just for him. You were in a bright red two-piece, a short mini skirt with a matching long-sleeve top made of shiny, geometric leather. Your midriff was on display, leaving little to the imagination, and you paired it with matching leather boots and an exposed thigh holster with your favorite blaster strapped to it. You wanted to put your hair up, but you had a feeling the style would only get in your way tonight.

Besides. He liked it when you had your hair down.

You hopped onto a barstool as the droid poured you your refill. You sat up straight, putting the straw to your lips and sucking it down almost entirely, letting the sugary alcohol seep into you and warm you from the inside out. You swung your feet and giggled to yourself, loving the feeling of his attention. It sent a lick of adrenaline shooting down your spine. Your toes curled, and your nipples hardened under your top, and you hadn’t even laid eyes on him yet.

“Need another?”

A warm voice motioned for the droid to give you another generous pour, and you smiled brightly at the unsuspecting human taking up space on your right side. He was wearing a uniform of sorts, dark and pressed, and he had a dazzling smile. Pearly white teeth, curly locks, and a sweet, innocent face. He was adorable. Too bad you didn’t care much for adorable.

“Oh, I’ll take whatever you’ll give me,” you laughed, nodding as he put a few credits down for you. After another fruity refill, you were finding yourself being pulled off your seat, soft hands gripping your bare waist as he tried to coax you onto the dancefloor. Your flirtatious banter was less than subtle; you knew he had so many gadgets adorned in that helmet, and if he was going to hide in the shadows away from your eyes, then you would give him a reason to come out.

Those fingers around your waist stiffened suddenly. Instead of a warm touch guiding you to move, you felt the change your stranger’s demeanor. His palms went clammy, and he went rigid at your side. You licked your lips, your eyes shutting for just a moment as you smelled that familiar edge—blaster residue, leather, iron and something dark and tangy and his.

“Come to ruin my fun?” You asked over your shoulder. You couldn’t see well in the dark of the cantina, but the Mandalorian was a ghostly, towering figure, nonetheless. He caged you into the bar, and you realized then that one of his hands was occupied—his blaster aimed right at the boy’s middle. “Maker, you just can’t help yourself!”

You stepped in front of the blaster, the point of it pressed into your bare stomach, and his helmet tipped down just enough. You would described the stiffness of his movements as unamused. He drew the blaster back immediately, away from you, but the damage had been done. The boy behind you fled before you could blink, and you huffed out an angry sigh, glaring up at the Mandalorian. You opened your mouth to say something, but he holstered his blaster, and with that same hand, he gripped your waist tight, yanking you forward until your middle pressed against his. Your bare stomach pressed against his utility belt, soft breasts squished up against that cool beskar. You fought the chill that ran through you, letting your eyelids flutter a bit as you fell into that comfortable headspace that could only be had right here, with him, in his arms. You lit up inside, fighting a grin.

Yes, yes, yes—

“You’re taunting me,” the Mandalorian growled finally. The edge in his voice should have scared you, but it enticed you instead. Lit a fire under your feet. The Mandalorian was nothing short of the being you craved the most, and every time you set eyes on him, you were reminded how much of an effect he had on you. He was all-consuming, and you were a bunny in a trap.

“Bite me,” you snapped, but a smile broke out on your face, nonetheless. You tilted your head to the side, standing up on your toes. Even in your heels, you craned to be level with him. You tucked your fingers into his belt, pulling him that much closer. “No, really…bite me.”

You let out a light giggle of surprise when the hand on your waist slid down to grasp you under your thigh tight, the gloves doing nothing to cool the heat of his touch. One of his hands reached to smooth over the handle of your blaster, a pretty little silver gift that he had given you some time ago. The sight of it strapped on your person didn’t go unnoticed; he was rather excited with the view, if the warmth against your thigh had anything to say about it.

“Maker, you missed me, didn’t you?” You cooed softly, leaning forward to kiss the beskar of his pauldron. The tone of your voice was almost pitiful, a childish reassurance that sent a pang of annoyance straight through him. “It’s okay…” You put your hand over his on your thigh, dragging it up until it slipped under your skirt, guiding him to touch you. “I missed you, too, baby.” You closed your eyes, kissing now just under the jaw of his helmet. “I knew I could get you here by leaving something along the way for you…wearing something pretty and shiny just like you…” You mewled softly as he kneaded the flesh of your ass in one large hand. “…getting boys to buy me drinks…”

Bunny in a trap, bunny in a trap—

“You’re coming with me,” he said simply. It wasn’t a question, it was a demand. An order. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pouting just a little.

“Don’t be mad,” you whined. “Or jealous. If you think for one second that I have eyes for anyone else, you’re blind.” Your fingers rubbed gently along the nape of his neck. He wore too many layers for you to feel those soft curls you adored pulling on. “If you weren’t such a stubborn piece of work, maybe you’d let me call you my boyfriend—”

A disgruntled sound left him, and his grip on you tightened. You met his visor for just a moment before realizing if you wanted any conversation of substance, you needed to get him alone, in private. You liked playing games, but the Mandalorian seemed as if he wasn’t in the mood. Most times he found you this way, he let hands wander just a tad longer so he could take pleasure in breaking their noses.

You took his free hand in yours, turning and guiding him out of the cantina. The crowd parted for you immediately, patrons not wanting to bump into the armor accidently. When you were outside in the quiet, you moved to the alleyway, covered in privacy by tall walls and dark light.

“I-I don’t know why you get so mad at me—” You started, tucking yourself into his side. He was hard to cuddle against with the rigid layers, but you wanted to be close to him. “You always get so jealous, but at the slightest whiff of commitment, you run the other way…” You looked up at him, right into the visor, hoping to find his eyes. “I miss you when you go,” you whispered. “I miss you all the time. I know what you do is dangerous, but Din—” His head tilted sharply at the use of his name, “—I miss you, and I know you miss me, too.”

You stood up on your toes and cupped the cheeks of his helmet in your hands, kissing the space where you thought his lips might be. You smiled, eyes glossy with sadness, and you sighed with relief when you felt two gloved hands slip up your short skirt again and squeeze your ass firmly, possessively. You adored having his undivided attention, adored being at the center of it. Seeing only yourself in the reflection of his helmet brought more peace to you than he could ever know. The Mandalorian was always so cool and calm and collected, and you loved that he lost complete sense of it around you.

“Say you missed me, Din,” you murmured. “Say you were jealous tonight and that you missed me.”

The smile on your face never left. The Mandalorian thought you could not look more precious than right now, waiting eagerly for him to murmur in your ear the praise you so deserved.

“I was jealous,” the Mandalorian admitted, slipping one gloved hand between your thighs and guiding those fingers against the seam of the lace there. You swallowed a bit, knowing that he would be able to feel how wet you’ve been for the last hour. “I was jealous, and I missed you.”

You broke out into a bigger smile, giggling with delight and moving to take his hands out from under your skirt to hold, but he held tight. He chuckled darkly, shaking his head slightly.

“No…” He manhandled you, turning you around and pressing you up against the alley wall chest-first and caging you in with the broadness of his figure. It happened so fast, and your heartbeat echoed in your ears as you tried to keep up with him. “I’m taking what I deserve, right here, right now.”

You hummed softly, your body turning liquid in his grasp. There was no place safer, no place more tranquil and perfect, than in his arms. It didn’t matter to you that you were out in the open, that anyone could walk by and see you. The Mandalorian would never let anything happen to you. You were safe, always. You feared nothing except for losing him, perhaps.

“You’re such a good girl,” he muttered in your ear. His modulated voice was honey in your ears. You leaned back against him, your ass pressing against the front of him eagerly. “Always letting me have what I want, no matter where we are, huh?”

You nodded, reaching up and wrapping an arm around his neck, the other hand bracing yourself against the wall. “I’m safe with you, Din,” you whispered. “Always have been, always will be. Not afraid of anything when I’m with you.” You reached down and slid your skirt up until it was bunched around your hips. “And I’m yours, whether you want to admit it or not—” You moved your hips at an angle, the hardness of him now pressed against your ass, and he stiffened, his grip on your middle bruising. “Yours to do whatever you want with…whenever you want.”

The Mandalorian grit his teeth under the helmet. It was infuriating how much of an effect you had over him, and he couldn’t even punish you for it because you were being so good. You were saying all of the right things, talking sweetness into his bones, making him feel that hot, scorching satisfaction of his claim over you and everything you were. There was no need to convince you that you were his, there was no need to remind you; in fact, it was you that was begging for him to do the one thing he had refused all this time—to simply acknowledge you.

You were so pliant. Doe-eyed and soft, gentle and easy, so small and moldable. The Mandalorian felt a warmth in his chest every time he towered over you. He was big and bad and rough around all of the edges, but nothing ever seemed to cut you. His touch only warmed you from the inside out, only had you gasping and making such pretty noises.

“Just…promise me one thing,” you said over your shoulder, meeting the visor with your eyes. He said nothing, but he smoothed a hand over your waist and squeezed you there to encourage you to continue. “Tell me I’m yours, Din—” You rested the back of your head against his shoulder, closing your eyes. He brought that hand up to wrap around your throat, but his touch was more soothing than anything. “Please,” you begged softly. “I need to hear you say it.”

The Mandalorian sighed deeply, his other hand moving to unzip his flight suit.

“If you want to know why I don’t want you to call me your kriffing boyfriend—” he spat, shaking his head, and you gasped as you felt his cock hard and leaking against your back, “—you should know it’s because that title is insulting.” You whimpered as he gripped the lace of your panties and pulled, ripping it apart easily. The delicate fabric was no match for those hands, and you squirmed under his grasp. The show of strength was enough to send another wave of need through you, wetting the place between your thighs even more. With no panties to soak, you could already feel yourself dripping slowly. “I’m not your boyfriend. I’m not your lover.” You moaned loudly as he notched himself at your entrance, hissing as he felt you immediately drenching him with your arousal. You were so wet, it was almost pathetic, but this was your Mandalorian, and by the chuckle that left him, you knew there was only satisfaction and need in the air, no room for embarrassment.

“I am yours, and you are mine—” His voice was muffled by your cry when he pushed into you, meeting little resistance as he pressed his hips into you until there was no space between you. You were tight, but so, so slick, sucking him in and squeezing him as another rush of slickness coated him. He groaned lowly as he felt you, realizing now just how much he had missed being so close to you, inside of you, intertwined and all around you. He hoisted you up in his arms, easily maneuvering you until you were right where he wanted you, full and squirming and drunk on the feeling of him. “—I could devour you here, and I would still be hungry, do you understand that?”

His voice in it of itself was enough to send you into another wave of pleasure. Deep, crackling static enveloping the roughness and neediness that he spoke of. It wasn’t a secret between the two of you the amount of times he had brought you over the edge with just his words, talking in your ear as your shaking fingers abused the soft, wet center of yourself.

My sweet girl. My perfect girl. Pretty, pretty girl, all mine, all mine, all mine to look at, all mine to touch, all mine to eat—

You moaned softly, clawing at him from behind as you tried to gain any kind of stability, but the Mandalorian was using you how he pleased, not giving you any sort of control. All you could do was cry and whimper and beg for more as he used the wall for leverage, fucking up into you. You managed to grab onto his forearms, digging into the clothed flesh there, feeling the pulse of him.

“What you mean to me…” He let out sharp groans, savoring the soft cries from you as he watched you take him so well. Your legs were shaking, your toes barely touching the ground as you tried to be coherent enough to say something back, but you were rendered speechless. There were tears forming at the corners of your eyes, the piercing feeling of the Mandalorian filling you and taking over you and consuming you almost too much to bear. He was so big in so many ways. Big enough to hold you, big enough to crush you in his arms, big enough to split you in two and put you right back together with those skilled, deadly hands of his, big enough to fuck a mark into your cunt so well that you would never ever forget that he had been there. “…mean more to me than anything in this world…wanna tie you up and stow you away all for me…wanna hide you from anyone and everyone—wanna have you every minute of every day and keep you full of me—” You squeezed him hard at the very thought, “—oh, you like that, yeah? Like that thought? Like the thought of me right here, all the time?”

Fuck, he was rambling. The Mandalorian was never a man of many words. You had seen him have conversations with just a nod and shake of his head, with just that steel glare alone, but whenever he was buried inside of you, he could never stop. Sputtering, grunting, spitting—maybe this was how he grounded himself, maybe this was how he kept himself just sane enough to not completely lose his self-control while he was inside of you.

Right here, all the time—mine, mine, mine—

You nodded, your jaw loosening and falling open in a silent cry as he snapped his hips quicker. His unwavering thrusts hit you deep, and he squeezed your throat gently before lowering them to your hips, spreading you open to give him more room to take you. There was something still soft about the way the Mandalorian fucked you. It was filthy this way, out in the open where someone could catch you, but his towering figure hid you from display. He held you tight, crowding you in his warmth. He was always possessive, but never cruel, and your pleasure came before his. You thought you couldn’t be anymore wet, but one gloved hand slipped up the front of your skirt, cupping your mound to give you the heel of his glove to grind against, your clit throbbing against the leather.

Oh, fucking—Maker—more, more more—

“Din—” Did other words even exist? Why couldn’t you form a coherent sentence? The only phrase you could muster was his name. Had his cock really dwindled you down to something so simple, so pathetic? The sounds between you were flushing you with embarrassment almost. So sticky, so wet, your thighs were glistening with sweat and your sweetness, and you nearly cried when you noticed one of his gloved hands smear his fingertips with that pretty creaminess and slip just under the lip of his helmet—

Yes, yes, yes—taste me—

“I’m gonna take you away,” he babbled. He was talking, just talking to fill the space, talking to keep himself from moaning too loud or cumming too fast, “Gonna take you away from here, keep you with me, yeah?”

He cursed under his breath, his hand finding its place spreading you open better, and his tongue was warm with the tang of you. It was enough to have him canting your hips just that much more, the tip of him prodding at the softest parts of your walls.

Soft, tight—she’s so cute, look at her, nothing there but me, all me, can’t think of anything except for how good she takes it.

“Yes, Din, please—!” You begged, your hands gripping his forearms harder and nails digging in hard to hold yourself steady. “Please, please, please—wanna be with you, please…”

“Shhhh…it’s gonna be alright,” he muttered. “I’m not gonna tease you today, don’t worry…gonna give you what you need, yeah?”

You nodded, gripping onto him tighter and grinding down against his hand, feeling the dull ache in your belly become sharp and buzzing and hot. Sex with the Mandalorian was always messy, but you were soaking your bodies, the wet squelch echoing in the alley and giving the Mandalorian an audible reminder of just how cockdrunk and dizzy and absolutely crazy you were for him. If you could eat him alive, you figured you just might.

“Know you’re close, yeah?” He panted. “Give it to me. You’re mine. Need you to show me.”

You swallowed hard, shutting your eyes tight. He dropped one arm to grip your leg, hiking it up to angle himself deeper, kissing your cervix and hitting a soft spot that had your tears falling quickly down your face. He was so good at this, too good at this, hitting it again, again, again—Din—right there—please—! Sheer, rippling, hot pleasure trickled down your spine, feeling so hot that your blood ran in your ears and your legs gave out underneath you. Like always, the Mandalorian caught you, holding you up so he could pound you through your orgasm. You could hear the thick wet of your release smearing between you, reaching up to grip the back of his neck and force him close.

“Inside me, Din,” you whimpered. “Need to feel you…”

He’s so warm, he’s so big, he’s mine, I want more—

“I know, I got you—”

You relaxed when you felt him, frantic thrusts and deep grinds as his cock pulsed and emptied and branded you so tenderly. You mewled happily, nuzzling back into him. His arms wrapped tightly around your middle, holding you close, and you hummed softly. The coming down was always sweet with the Mandalorian. The way he would press you to him, no space for air between your bodies. If the Mandalorian could fuse you to his beskar, you figured he would. You would let him, if only it meant he would take whatever he needed from you always.

“Wish we could stay like this forever,” you mumbled in a daze. Your mind was still fuzzy, your vision trying to straighten itself out as it basked in the rush of sweetness and calm and utter pleasure that seeped into your very bones. He brushed your sweaty hair back and off your shoulder, letting his heartbeat steady as he held you. The Mandalorian was the only thing holding you up straight, but you knew he would not drop you. “Were you serious, Din? About taking me away?”

He pulled out of you slowly, soothing you with gentle fingers through your hair as you winced a bit. You could feel the warmth of him slowly making its way down your thighs, a familiar, aching feeling that you wished could stay.

“Yes,” he murmured. “My ship is in the landing bay. I have more than enough room for you.”

The Mandalorian carefully moved your skirt back into place, slipping the cowl out from his chest plate and draping it over your shoulders. Something fluttery and nice settled in your belly at the gesture, and you were grateful that his hands didn’t leave you, still settled against your bare midriff and squeezing there absentmindedly.

“Why now?” You asked gently. “Every…every other time I’ve asked, you…you’ve refused.” You sniffled a bit, and he brought a hand up to wipe your tears. Tender, sweet, apologetic. “You never let me come with you before. You…you always…you always leave. Why is this time different?”

The Mandalorian tucked your head into his chest, smoothing a hand down your back.

“I guess I just can’t be away from you anymore,” he said simply. He took your hand in his, but you realized quickly that you had to hold onto his arm for support as you followed him towards the landing bay. You smiled up at him as you walked.

“So…does this mean I can call you my boyfriend?” You joked, biting your lip cheekily. He reached down and gripped your ass tight, squeezing it harshly for good measure.

“No,” he clarified, but you could hear the amusement in his voice. You picked up your pace when you saw his ship in the distance. You had been on his ship before. You had enjoyed many nights there, tangled up in warm sheets and small spaces. You planned to take full advantage of your new privileges in it. Before you could make it inside, the Mandalorian tugged on your hand gently, bringing you to face him. You smiled up at him, and he kept a hand busy adjusting the fabric around your shoulders.

“I just need you to know that you didn’t have to tease me this way for me to come get you,” the Mandalorian said lowly. “I know I hadn’t given you any reason to believe that I care for you more than…” Your eyes lowered a bit, a little sheepish, but the Mandalorian cleared his throat. He put his fingers under your chin and lifted your gaze back to him. You couldn’t explain the feeling, but you knew you had his eyes on yours. “I would’ve come for you. All you had to do was ask.”

You stood up on your toes, leaning forward until you could put your forehead to his. You closed your eyes to savor the kiss, and he followed easily.

“But did you like it?” You asked playfully, holding back a laugh. You felt the tips of his fingers playing with the hem of your tiny skirt, and he let out a low hum.

Teasing, little girl.

“Yeah…I liked it.”

[hedgehog-moss]

Loved your mentioning of learning poetry by heart: this is something I haven’t done since school! What are some of your favs that you’d suggest to ease my brain back into it?

(Française ici donc les options 🇫🇷 autant que anglais sont welcome :) merci!)

Hi :) You can look at the poem tag of my quote blog if you want—some of the ones I've learnt by heart (or excerpts from them) include this one by Sara Teasdale - Nanao Sakaki - Velimir Khlebnikov - Wallace Stevens - Rabindranath Tagore - Archibald Macleish - Howard Nemerov - and these paragraphs by Henri Peña-Ruiz which I consider prose poetry... My favourite French verses (from Corneille, Aragon, Anna de Noailles, Hugo, Valéry...) are all alexandrines and I find it to be the easiest type of verse to remember, as the structure is so rigorous and consistent. I sometimes translate English poems into alexandrines (like this one) to make them easier to learn in this more familiar form—I think even after all this time English prosody still feels foreign to me; the patterns of sound and rhythm in French are more deeply embedded in my brain so it can more easily predict what comes next...

Re: easing your brain into it, I guess that depends on your style of learning? For me the best way to learn a text is to spend time with it in written form, be it by translating it, or by writing it down by hand (slowly) and then (sometimes) keeping it for a while in a place where I often stand idle, like taped to my microwave so I re-read it as I wait 1 minute for something to heat up.

One thing I like about learning poems is that it's a costless, always-accessible way to get a sense of personal accomplishment. Beyond that, I've got three categories of poems I like to learn for different reasons—I'll go into some detail in case it can help you figure out what you're after :)

1. Classic poetry, because it's just fun to have little snippets of ancient tragedies or epic Victor Hugo poems living at the back of your mind and accompanying you through your own everyday tragedies—as an overdramatic person who tends to feel devastated or exasperated over tiny stuff, it helps me to take some distance from my feelings. Like if I spill a bucket of manure on my boots and my first reaction is rage and despair and my second thought is a couple of verses by Euripides where Iphigenia bemoans her relentless fate, it's a way to make fun of (and get over) myself.

My grandmother did this a lot, she knew so many poems by heart and often used them ironically. If I went whining to her when I was little she'd recite to me the last few verses of Alfred de Vigny's La Mort du Loup (it sounds better in the original but):

[...] With all your being you must strive To that highest degree of stoic pride [...] Weeping or praying—all this is in vain. You must instead shoulder your long and heavy task In the way that Destiny has seen fit to ask Then suffer and die without complaint.

(Let me tell you, that's just what a five-year-old wants to hear after scratching her knee at the park) But really I admired this treasury of poetry she carried within her, especially as she only went to school until age 14 and came upon most of it thanks to her own curiosity; as well as the way she used it playfully in everyday life, using dramatic classical verse to de-dramatise minor annoyances.

2. Nature poems are great in the opposite way, to magnify minor positive things :) Like seeing a fox and having a few lines by Mary Oliver come to mind, seeing a frog and thinking of that Basho haiku... I recently discovered Jean-Michel Maulpoix and I also love his nature poems, like 'The recovery of blue after a downpour', the way he describes snow melting in the spring, or golden-blue evenings:

[Snow] takes some time to leave, but delicately. She doesn’t insist, hardly persists, never roots… She gives way. No one else dies so merrily With such good humour Unmatched is her disdain for eternity…

L’azur, certains soirs, a des soins de vieil or. Le paysage est une icône. Il semble qu’au soleil couchant, le ciel qui se craquelle se reprenne un instant à croire à son bleu.

3. And then there are the poems that proudly serve no purpose. <3 I mean beyond distilling language in a beautiful way. No deep meaning—or no meaning at all, e.g. surrealist poetry. I learnt this passage from Les Champs magnétiques back in middle school:

La fenêtre creusée dans notre chair s'ouvre sur notre cœur. On y voit un immense lac où viennent se poser à midi des libellules mordorées et odorantes comme des pivoines. Quel est ce grand arbre où les animaux vont se regarder ? Il y a des siècles que nous lui versons à boire. . . Prisonniers des gouttes d'eau, nous ne sommes que des animaux perpétuels. . . Nous ne savons plus rien des astres morts ; nous regardons les visages. . . Quelquefois, le vent nous entoure de ses grandes mains froides et nous attache aux arbres découpés par le soleil.

—and I've often recited it to myself just to enjoy these gratuitously nice sentences that aren't here to deliver information. Like Kay Ryan said, "Poetry makes nothing happen. That's the relief of it." It's a nice break, a way to remember that communicating isn't all language is for; beyond the social dimension there's also an intimate one that relies on our own aesthetic sensitivity. Most of the time we look through language, to access ideas, meanwhile enjoying poetry means looking at language, for a change, appreciating it for itself.

I just realised I'm paraphrasing John Brehm here—in The Poetry of Impermanence he wrote something that can be read as an ode to learning things by heart:

When you read lines that seem especially lit up—that move or intrigue you in some way, or that are simply pleasing or even dazzling—don’t focus on being able to formulate a statement about what they might mean, as if you might be called upon to explain the poem, to yourself or to someone else. Just linger with those poems or passages that resonate with you. . . Rest your mind on them; let them live inside you.

[a-butterfly1]

==✦NINJAGO AU MASTERPOST✦==

This is an AU I've been working on, I will actually work on it on writting ( on AO3 ) instead of making a comic/manga because I tend to procastinate when it comes to drawing panels ( if you have been keeping up with other pojects of mine you would know this), hopefully I will keep this updated.

==❤︎CHARACTER INFORMATION❤︎==

Lloyd Montgomery Garmadon

Age- 1000+ (immortal) Height: 5'8 (1,73m)

Lloyd has lived many years, of course, now he's immortal, he doesn't have much of a choice but to continue living on. He was many things throughout his life: a bratty child, a son, a master, a hero and now he's nothing more than a myth, while still a part of ninjago history many actually question if he ever really existed or not. He ostracized himself from society for a reason, after all,- it's painfull to make relationships when they are so short lived. He is considered a god by many, but he denies that being the case, maybe the embodiment of the balance between good and evil but he wont try to call himself anything more. Lloyd now lives with the spirits of his family with the occasional visits from Morro and Garmadon, his father.

==꒷꒦︶︶꒷︶︶꒦꒦︶︶꒷꒦==

Jay Walker

Age- 1000+ (spirit) Died at 115 Height: 5'10 (1,78m) Status: Nya's husband

He was a man of the spotlight, he shined brithly- TV shows, TheyTube channels, he was knowed worldwide. Not that he minds the retirement, he lived his life; he had two beautiful twins with the love of his life, Nya. He died happy, even if he was the last one to die, 3 years after Nya had passed. His last years were spent with Lloyd. In his many years in the Ninja team, he's come to realise he doesn't exactly have the same type of strengh like the others so he created a different weapon one that creates iron alloy strings, that resemble spider webs. He also practiced racing with his wife in his free time and created all kinds of machines and weapons which ranged from house equipment to ninja tech, like mechs, weapons and transport.

==꒷꒦︶︶꒷︶︶꒦꒦︶︶꒷꒦==

Kai Smith

Age- 1000+ (spirit) Died at 95 Height: 6'2 (1,88m) Status: Skylor's husband and Nya's bio brother

Kai was a little bit of an influencer in his younger years, but as the years went by he settled more into being a family man with his wife Skylor and his little girl. How did he become a spirit? Well it was his idea; well his plan was to become immortal like Lloyd but he was intersected by Morro, so he opted for the second best option: giving his powers to Lloyd, so even if he was dead he would be with Lloyd through his power; what wasn't part of the plan was he actually becoming part of Lloyd as a spirit, not that he is complaining, he got what he wanted in the end; and since he was the one that piched the idea to the ninja, he just involved them all into the mad plan- one that Lloyd was unaware of. He trully is a mad man, no one, and I mean, no ONE, puts themselves between him and his family, the last person who did so, is no longer amoung us, the last thing they saw was Kai becoming a demonic ball of flames.

==꒷꒦︶︶꒷︶︶꒦꒦︶︶꒷꒦==

Nya Smith Walker

Age- 1000+ (spirit) Died at 112 Height: 6'0 (1,83m) Status: Jay's wife and Kai's bio sister

Nya, famous racer, only had to step down from the hobbie/carrer when she got into a small accident, while she wasn't gravelly wounded that was enough for her to be proibited from competitive racing. From that day on she still raced but became more of an idol than a racer per say. She ended up working on engineer projects, solo or with Jay, mostly out of boredom. Now, since she is dead, she has more free time than ever, and uses it to learn and explore every digital corner of the internet, catching a few criminals in the way. Many say she is mystical and her strengh is as crushing as the waves in a storm can be, yet calm and relaxing as the days in the beach, others, like the Ninja themselves just see her as they're beloved sister.

==꒷꒦︶︶꒷︶︶꒦꒦︶︶꒷꒦==

Cole Brookestone

Age- 1000+ (spirit) Died at 87 Height: 6'8 (2,03m) Status: Vania's husband

Cole, King of the Kingdom of Shintaro, Husband of Queen Vania, father of the prince of Shintaro, and our beloved cake lover, sadlly passed away early, well earlier than his siblings at least, the unknowed illness that had taken the life of his mother had decided to claim another. Cole fell gravelly ill, bedridden in his late stages of life. Bedridden in the castle, he invited Lloyd over for most possibly a final goodbye, although he didn't think that Lloyd would stay around the whole time it wasn't completly unexpected, right there he was the first one to execute Kai's plan, and the first to discover the side effects of the plan; from then on he was part of Lloyd and made sure to let the others know of the end result.

==꒷꒦︶︶꒷︶︶꒦꒦︶︶꒷꒦==

Zane Julien

Age- 1000+ (nindroid) Height: 7'0 (2,13m) Status: P.I.X.A.L's husband

Caretaker of the rest of the Ninja team and their children, especially since those little kids sure liked uncle Lloyd a whole lot and would visit constently. He stayed with Lloyd in the monastery alongside P.I.X.A.L and Morro (who visits soo much he pretty much lives there, has a room and everything). Him and Lloyd share house chores, and Zane is in charge of looking at news around ninjago, to ensure it's safety, as well as helping in some researches since Lloyd is only one person and can only intake soo much information at a time. He is the only one that hasn't partaken in Kai's plan, since there is literally no reason to, Zane obviously doesn't die of old age, one may claim that he could possible get rusty and need repairs at some point but Lloyd and P.I.X.A.L are always around is any issue is to come.

==✿ADDITIONAL INFORMATION✿==

The Ninja team, many years after most of the team's death, has move the location of the monestary far away from the main ninjago island, and instead now lives in a far away island that Lloyd created west of Ninjago city, around the middle of Ninjago and the dark island (thats has been sealed away by Lloyd). The reason for that change is because of something rather strange, it's not just to ensure Lloyd's ever soo wished isolation but also because a merchant had attented to buy the place, with the intention of turning the monestary into a tourist attraction. Lloyd got a bit peeved and decided to pick up the mountain where the monestary was on top of and relocated it;

The only reason the Jay was living with Lloyd in his last moments, was because he genuenly belived he would miss the mark to execute Kai's plan, because he belives himself to be quite clumsy and distracted; either way he didn't miss it and now is with the rest of the team (which is a way to say that he can now torment the Ninja forever);

Lloyd has a cute nickname for all the Ninja's kids, and spoiled them to no end (he is the fun uncle who takes everyone to Disneyland), he calls Kai's daugther "munchkadee", Jay and Nya's twins has "Starlight" and "Moonlight" for the girl and boy respectively, and Cole's son is "Duckling";

the age diference of the Ninja are, from youngest to oldest: Lloyd - Nya - Jay - Kai - Cole - Zane ( to say, with maybe the idea of the 1 season, Lloyd (8->15) - Nya (15) - Jay (16) - Kai (17) - Cole (18) - Zane (30-40? he is old);

(conceivable for change) As of right now, Lloyd's power is one that could rival gods, the source of said power is something OP is still considering but the possible main reason might be related to "source dragons", has to why the other Ninja's had powers even after having kids is related to Lloyd giving them an artifact that has their specific element embodied into them (the artifacts are not phisical and can only be visualised when the Ninja have already passed, the artifact will most likely have the form of a card); (the reason of this possible change is the development of the plot of "Dragons Rising").

[verysium]

blu lock top artists on Spotify??? i need your thoughts on it

anon you had me pulling up my spotify playlists and browsing through the entirety of genius.com for three hours straight. i'm going to tweak this prompt a little bit and include specific songs that best represent them since it's easier for me to explain that way.

RIN

the fanon answer for this is chase atlantic. while their songs do encapsulate parts of his personality (mostly the edgy teenager and disillusioned youth persona), i feel like this choice does not do his full character justice.

the canon answer for this is king gnu, more specifically the song "prayer x." i can picture this since rin seems like the type to enjoy alternative rock/indie, but the fact that it's the ending theme to banana fish is what gets to me. like...do you see yourself in ash or something? i hope you don't cus it doesn't end well. that anime had me bawling my eyes out for months, and i still can't think about it without breaking down again.

furthermore, the lyrics and music video to this song are very cryptic and borderline nihilistic. for example, "hiding behind this nonchalant smile" and "my life's spark will wink out of existence." i feel like this speaks volumes about rin's mental health and internal thought process. he obviously does not process his emotions normally and instead represses them. he also struggles with the idea of finding a purpose in what is otherwise a cyclical routine with no end. he's worried and, quite frankly, afraid that if he ever stops pursuing his dream, everything will come crumbling down, and he will have to face all the demons he's avoided for so long. the main theme here is that he cannot face his reality (the fact that sae's dream is not his own.) so he does everything in order to escape this fact even if it ultimately destroys him.

from my own playlists, i'd assign him the following songs/artists:

"beautiful boy" by john lennon

this is a love letter to baby rin. i feel like he would've enjoyed this song as either a lullaby or something he listened to on car rides to the beach during summer vacations. he probably still listens to this when it's raining outside or he's had a bad day. reminds him of his childhood and the good parts of it.

"the love club" by lorde

this is something pre-teen rin listened to. the irony is spot-on, and i feel like the lyrics would be relevant during a time when he was going through his rebellious phase and fully fleshing out his place in society. in this instance, the club would metaphorically be wherever his brother is at, whether that's the guys sae meets in spain or the group of football players considered "top-notch" in japan. everything is about finding a place in this club/clique in an effort to become free and differentiate himself from others. the only problem is that rin ironically loses his freedom because he tries so hard to be among the best. he signs his life away in pursuit of a dream, and it's something that now defines him.

"the only problem i got with the club / is how you're severed from the people / who watched you grow up"

this lyric in particular could apply to either one of the itoshi brothers. it's one of the caveats that comes with fame. you gain everything, but you lose everything before that. both of the itoshis likely experienced some amount of separation from their loved ones, including each other. also lorde's vocals are beautiful as always, so there's no reason not to include this song.

"howlin' 404" by DEAN

the production for this song is on point. the intro has a segment from a 1930s american horror radio program which is fitting because rin canonically watches horror movies. i think this song is something rin might listen to during cold autumns or midnights when he just can't sleep.

lyrically, there is the motif of a time loop which is also present in "prayer x." rin's character itself just has this connection with the raw grittiness of existentialism and this idea of repeating days without purpose. (in fact, he would make a great psychological thriller lead.) rin is also a control freak. if he lets one loose end go, it will unravel the entire thing. that matches up with the idea of "killing me softly." rin would rather prolong his pain than have it ripped from him all at once and leave him with nothing. i find this in a lot of people in real life too. even if your trauma wasn't good for you, it sometimes becomes the only thing you truly own. it's like that one quote from bojack horseman. "if i don't, that means that all the damage i got isn't good damage, it's just damage." rin feels like he has something to prove, and if he fails, all his suffering would've been for nothing.

"moonchild" by RM

i may be a bit biased since i love the mono mixtape, and i've written a rin fic about celestial bodies, but....this song just fits him. there's also a remarkable similarity with the lyrics of the previous songs i've listed. i'm just going to list a few:

"smiling in endless pain / you know / there's no freedom when you say freedom out loud"

one thing i love about RM is that he doesn't shy away from character flaws. he writes songs specifically for those who are always picked last, who aren't remarkable in any way, who feel weighed down by their normality. he gives them their spotlight and due diligence. for example, the entirety of the chorus is a repeat of "moonchild, you shine." i find this interesting since it's usually the sun that shines. but the sun is already sae, and rin is relegated to being the moon. yet even though the moon doesn't have its own light (it merely reflects the sun), it still shines bright in the darkness. rin doesn't know it yet, but he himself is a big role model for others such as isagi, his fans, and people just like him. so yeah....i'd take this song as a message of hope for future rin.

SAE

the fanon answer is lana del rey, and i would agree to a certain extent. under the right circumstances, he could become one of those dreamy, emotionally stunted, and tired men you guys all lust over. if y/n ever wrote a romantic song about him, it would be either "west coast" (for the spanish influences) or "art deco" (for the vibes.)

the headcanon answer is nothing. i don't think he listens to music much. even if he did, it would be probably classical/instrumental or just white noise for his long flights. i imagine him listening to erik satie's "gymnopédie no. 3" on a train ride or something.

from my own playlists, i'm going to give him these songs/artists:

"remind me" by röyksopp

i don't know how to explain this, but this song gives a bittersweet sense of nostalgia. think early 2000s when the TV footage was still grainy and had retro graphics. you're carrying around your mini mp3 player whilst wandering through the airport and wondering how the hell you even ended up there. that's the general ambience of this song.

lyrically, the song also matches well with sae. i'm going to give you a few examples:

"it's only been a week / the rush of being home in rapid fading"

again, this is a tribute to the disconnection sae feels from his home. he goes everywhere, but he belongs nowhere. when he finally returns to japan, he finds himself missing spain. when he's in madrid, he thinks about the ocean back in kamakura. there never is a place that truly fills that gaping hole in his chest. i also feel like sae experiences FOMO on a whole other level. he constantly feels like something is wrong/missing and he's not doing enough.

"brave men tell the truth / the wise man's tools are analogies and puzzles"

the idea here is that though sae is blunt with his words, he is a coward with his intentions/true feelings. he can brutally call out someone without hesitation, but to actually reveal his own truths and motives? he'd rather shrivel up in a hole and die. this is especially applicable to love. to him, a wise man is someone who doesn't open his heart up easily. instead, he hints at his feelings, and whether or not you can figure that out is on you. sae hates it when others play games with him. it's where his hypocrisy lies. he demands straightforward honesty from others, but he himself will unintentionally play games with you if it means he can hide himself behind his walls.

"a woman holds her tongue / knowing silence will speak for her"

this is the closest you guys are ever going to get to sae itoshi's ideal type. he loves people who don't need to say something for him to believe it. they just get it. your silence is automatically enough for him to know that you love him. similarly, you don't even need to speak a word to understand what he's feeling.

"night shift" by lucy dacus

this song is sae if he was that one ex-boyfriend who really fucked you up emotionally, and you never got over him even though you said you did. now that i think about it, the story could be told from either POV. this could be sae trying to erase you from his mind, or it could also be you post-breakup.

"you've got a 9 to 5 / so i'll take the night shift / and i'll never see you again / if i can help it"

i know this one lyric caused controversy all over tiktok, so i'm going to add my own interpretation. at face value, this is exactly what it says it is. sae doesn't want to see you again, nor do you. he's willing to go out of his way just to avoid you, and truthfully he would. when sae finds himself in trouble, he doesn't look for something new to fix him. instead, he cuts everything off and subtracts anything that is deadweight. if you're out of his life, then you're out of his life. he's not coming back for you (or at least that's what he says to convince himself). same thing with rin. he knows he hurt rin, but he's not going to go back and try to make it right. he's going to move on and try to justify his actions every step of the way. one day, rin will move on too, and then sae would have been right all along. (unfortunately, that is not the way things work, but that's a lesson for another time.)

the alternative interpretation is that y/n is the other woman. this could be literal as in sae already has someone else in his life, and he only sees you at night. you're only ever going to be the night shift. it could also be metaphorical as in you're merely a distraction in the grand scheme of things. you're the mistress, but football is his wife if that makes sense. his career will always take precedence.

"you get me so high" by the neighborhood

this song is all the words sae wished he said to rin but never did. it made me cry because everything would have been so different if they had just set aside their pride and truthfully sought each other out.

"hope you don't regret it / i pushed a lot back but i can't forget it"

repressing feelings seems to be a recurring issue with the itoshi brothers. like....maybe if i just push it out of sight, it will also go out of mind. and at its core, this all stems from fear. fear of facing the consequences, the hypotheticals, the terrifying realization that you did something you regret and there really is no turning back from it. but realistically, if you think about it, a lot of this is the byproduct of overthinking. sometimes the situation isn't as complicated as we might make it out to be. sometimes an apology doesn't fix everything, but it's a proposition to be something more, an attempt at a solution. but sae and rin are so blindsided by their own internal turmoil that they cannot see this.

"for a long time i took it all for granted / i really thought we had it / but at the time it was more than i could manage"

ah....the "taking for granted" part. i could ramble on about that for hours. i think it really is some sort of self-fulfilling prophecy that we never miss something until it's gone. and in a way, it's not something that we can always control. the value you assign to a person/object when you have it is going to be fundamentally different from the value you assign to it when it's no longer in your grasp. that's how scarcity works. something with a limited supply is always going to be worth more. the vice versa works as well. you might yearn after something but then throw it away the moment you finally have it and grow tired of it. this sort of dilemma that comes with appreciation is so common i really wouldn't blame the itoshi brothers for what they did. it is immensely difficult to know when you're going to lose something or when you need to let it go. and sometimes it's hard to be constantly grateful for what you have because many of us are wired to want something more. tbh that's what makes the itoshis relatable.

"if we can leave it all behind us / and meet in between"

now sae would never say this unless he himself had actually reflected on what happened and fully processed it. but maybe in the future, they could set aside their differences and reach out to each other. (this is how i cope)

"but i just had to let you know / i never meant to hurt you, though / i had all my motives / i didn't know they wouldn't mix with your emotions / i just had to reach my goals / never knew i'd meet you though"

that's the thing with personal ambition. sometimes you get so caught up in yourself, you forget all about others. and this isn't really selfishness, or at least intentional selfishness. it just sort of happened that way. you never meant to hurt them, but you still somehow did.

"we should stick together / you're my best friend / i'll love you forever"

yeah....this line was the one that did it for me. something about the dysfunctional sibling dynamic just eats away at my insides. like....i could've loved you, we could've been so much together, but why aren't we? what we have isn't hate, but it isn't the love i know and crave either.

"we could be the greatest / it doesn't matter if we're never rich or famous"

ok but if rin ever heard this leave sae's lips, i think all of his trauma would just be magically healed. he just wants his brother to see him. like fully see him and love him. but alas, what is blue lock without angst, am i right?

"love in the dark" by adele

now i don't think sae would ever listen to adele, but the lyrics are just too fitting. i was going to write a fic on this, but it's going to have to ferment a bit in the drafts for now. basically this is the entire rin/sae traumatic scene but as a melodramatic torch song with adele's heavenly vocals.

"take your eyes off of me so i can leave / i'm far too ashamed to do it with you watching me"

um...this is literally sae's internal monologue??? i feel like letting go of things is something both the itoshi brothers struggle with. their lives are constantly pulling them in different directions, and eventually they become numb to it all. they don't form any strong attachment to anything besides football because that's the one thing that won't change for them. in a way, this is necessary for their character development (in the sense that they need to discern for themselves what to keep and what to let go), but it also destroys any sense of belonging they might have (hence why they feel lonely.)

"don't try to change my mind / i'm being cruel to be kind"

sae would definitely say this. like word for word. if only he wasn't a vague dumbass with no communication skills.

"i can't love you in the dark / it feels like we're oceans apart"

this is literally their dynamic in one lyric. there is the physical distance, and then there's the emotional distance.

"we're not the only ones, / i don't regret a thing / every word i've said, / you know i'll always mean"

this sort of reminds me when sae said that the world is huge, and there's so many players way better than him out there. i think spain really gave him a reality check, and he grew angry at rin when rin couldn't understand his disillusionment.

"everything changed me / and i don't think you can save me"

adele sort of echoes this softly at the end of the song. i feel like sae would do that too. he wouldn't admit his own insecurities until the very end, and only then does the truth come out.

"i'll sleep when i'm older" by bruno major

this is sae when he's older and fully mature, preferably after he meets you. he finally decides to damn it all and do what he wants.

"conversations with elders and the wisdom they bring ... / the view from an aeroplane at twelve thousand feet"

sae views things that previously annoyed him in a new light. he used to hate his elders, but he visited you and your mother once, and something changed within him. now he calls his parents more often, and his eyes linger on the old couples near the park benches. sometimes, his gaze softens just a bit when he imagines the two of you growing old just like them.

flights used to be a mundane part of his routine, but now he finds himself leaning over your window seat to see the mountains down below. the clouds and sunny weather set him aglow. and you just look so pretty when you fall asleep on his shoulder. he doesn't ever want this change.

"meet god on a mountain top along with the stars / find love somewhere, anywhere / fall deep from the start"

sae used to avoid love, but now he's running at it full-force. people tend to shy away from making sae a romantic because it seems too ooc. however, in the right situation, i think sae could entirely abandon his previous ideals and become someone else entirely. (that's why it's called a character evolution guys.)

"misplace my mind and follow my heart"

again, if you're able to make sae lose all rationality and let his heart guide him instead, then you've really done something. kudos to you for penetrating the walls of the coldest asshole known to mankind.

"i'll be a firework, not a flickering flame / treat life all around me like a one-player game"

this one lyric applies both to younger and older sae. younger sae is someone unafraid of risking it all if it means he can achieve something worthwhile. it doesn't matter how many players he has to defeat, how many people he has to leave behind. in this world, it is just him and the goal he has to accomplish.

however, after he's mellowed out after a few years (i'd say around middle age), he probably reinterprets this as something else. he's not going to constrain himself to his tunnel vision anymore. there's so much more to life than that.

"i'll go to the party and forget all the names / should it climb back to haunt me, / it ends all the same"

sae finally lets himself live the life he never thought he'd have. he does stupid things like get drunk and make a fool of himself. but you're there for him, so he doesn't really care. in fact, he can finally say that for the first time in a long time....he's having fun.

KAISER

the fanon answer is the weeknd. i'm not going to lie, i completely agree with this one. i saw this one edit of him to "party monster," and i can say i have been fully enlightened and converted. however, this is not just about a toxic male manipulator anthem. it's much more than that.

this is about running away from the ugliest parts of yourself, becoming a slave to your vices, knowing you're broken somewhere and you can never fix it. i would say his character is most similar to "starboy" in the fact that he literally flaunts everything he has to hide the fact that deep down inside, he really has nothing else to hold onto. "starboy" is all about the status symbol (money, red lamborghinis, glass table girls turning into ebony table girls lol). but at the end of the day, he doesn't really have anything except an empty heart and a satirical quip for all those who made him famous. the same theme applies to "the morning" and "house of balloons."

in the romantic sense, i think "don't break my heart" would represent kaiser. and no, this is not a justification for him being an f-boy. it's more so an exploration of why people might think he is an f-boy. i do not condone his actions, but i do try to understand them. in particular, i feel like the lyrics of "sacrifice" also fit him well.

"i was born in a city / where the winter nights don't ever sleep / so this life's always with me / the ice inside my veins will never bleed"

i headcanon kaiser as being born in either berlin or munich. and if you don't know anything about those two places, just know that you freeze your ass off during wintertime. i think it's interesting how his past could be intrinsically tied with a place, and he takes a piece of his past self with him wherever he goes. the ice in veins part also made me think about how kaiser would rather freeze up every weakness within himself than let them run free and make him human.

"every time you try to fix me / i know you'll never find that missing piece"

guys...did you hear that? to all you delusional people out there, this is your service announcement. you cannot fix someone who does not want to be fixed. write that down and memorize it. all meaningful change starts with a shift in mindset, and if they themselves are not in the right headspace to recognize that something is wrong and actively want to change, you're not going to get anywhere. so yeah....kaiser is not going to change unless HE starts doing the changing.

"i hold you through the toughest parts / when you feel like it's the end / 'cause life is still worth living"

i think this lyric sort of explores kaiser's dynamic with ness. on one front, he is the one picking ness up from his miserable past and instilling a sense of hope into him (intentionally or not.) but on another front, this could also be a problem. kaiser is almost forcefully optimistic in the way that he believes anything is possible. it has to be possible because there can be no other way. but the thing is.....you have to know your limits sometimes. blind optimism is, ironically, similar to cornering yourself.

"i can break you down and pick you up / and fuck like we are friends / but don't be catching feelings"

this is definitely the type of bullshit kaiser would spew. i could picture a fwb or situationship with him where y/n just constantly receives the short end of the stick. now this may be reaching, but i also feel like this is how kaiser projects his own trauma onto others. he himself clawed his way up to the top and put himself back together every time he fell down. the problem is that he also expects you to be that resilient. he's going to treat you badly because you're supposed to be like him: someone who can overcome everything and strive towards the impossible.

the headcanon answer to his top artist would be keshi. in particular, i think kaiser would fit the vibe of "2 soon" and "drunk." long story short, you finally broke up with him, and he's still reeling from the impact.

within my fics, i envision a dialogue between kaiser and y/n from each one of their perspectives. so based on that, i'm going to assign him the following songs/artists:

"gibson girl" by ethel cain

i know i said earlier that kaiser's character is not solely about toxic manipulation, but you have to understand that all bad habits originate from somewhere. kaiser is innately self-destructive, and he brings you down along with him. this song is about that but from y/n's perspective. there's this idea of trying to find agency in a situation where you have none. i don't have the word count to explain ethel cain lore in all of its naked glory, but all i can say is that this song is a banger and deals with themes like femininity as a performance, finding power in pain, religious motifs, etc.

"glory box" by portishead

this song is y/n's last plea to kaiser before they fully give up on him and leave. i'm also a sucker for anything that involves an exploration of gender dynamics and what it means to be a woman, and this song is riddled with it.

"suffocation" by crystal castles

this is kaiser post-isagi defeat (cue that one scene where he was trying to choke himself.) similar to sae, it's all or nothing with him. he suffers from this feeling of inferiority. everyone made him out to be this great figure of impossible dreams and legends, but look at him now. he's nothing. aren't you disappointed? he had you fooled, but he also fooled himself. so yeah....kaiser is definitely the most self-deprecating out of all of the boys at blue lock.

ISAGI

the fanon answer is laufey, and i also agree. he's so sweet, and laufey's music just makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. he would also be that one love that came creeping up on you when you least expected it. "valentine" would be the song for that. i picture a reader who's had a series of unfortunate breakups and is right on the edge of giving up entirely. but then isagi comes along, and it's just so easy to love him. as easy as breathing. and then you think maybe it wasn't so bad after all. you just never found the right one until he came into your life. furthermore, isagi is a jazz pop princess, and you can't convince me otherwise.

the headcanon answer is IU. more specifically, i would say "troll" from her lilac album. i feel like even if you and isagi broke up, it would still be like you two never broke up at all. you're both on good terms, and even though you know it's counterproductive to keep cycling back to each other, you do it anyways. and it's okay because you're both still in love.

from my own playlists, i would assign the following songs/artists:

"winter bear" by v

this is my comfort song. it feels like those big sherpa blankets you tuck yourself under when you're lying next to the heater in winter. isagi would kiss your forehead and nuzzle your nose before you two drifted off to sleep.

"a boy named pluto" by hailey knox

this one is so romantic lol. i also like the dynamic where one party is afraid to love, but the other person loves them unconditionally. that would be isagi. he'd respect your decision and wait for you as long as you need it. but if you're ever ready to give him a chance, just know that he's going to treasure all of you.

"put your records on" by ritt momney

the inspiring thing about isagi is that he never lets anyone put him down. he takes rejection as redirection, failure as room for improvement. and in that way, i think this song encapsulates his resilience. he'd be such a good boyfriend not just romantically but in the way that he would literally pick you back up to your feet, dust you off, and make sure everything was alright.

"fairy of shampoo" by dosii

i picture isagi as someone who falls first and falls harder. he just loves you so much, and he doesn't even need a reason why. i saw somewhere that sometimes you don't love someone because they're your soulmate/twin flame/supernaturally fated other. you love them because you consciously made the decision to. isagi is like that. he loves you on purpose.

helppp why does this sound like an academic paper...i'm sorry anon. i got carried away with this, but i hope u like it.

[judasgot-it]

Ello o/, may i request again (dk if i can tho, don't feel pressured if not maken), really love the post you made for the request my heart literally- aawkwkw, i have so many things to say to that post but really busy asfck like if i wnated to, i could literally write a essay or thesis statement, */ahem anyway

BSD boys, while having a fighting/argument with s/o they suddenly grip they're s/o's wrist too hard and ended up leaving a mark (they didn't mean to tho ;-;) that reminded the reader's past child abuse/not used to this type of conflict which lead to angst to comfort or just angst hehe. Idk this is just a random 2am thought(my time rn) I have classes later waking up at 4am too…

AHHHHHH omg yes I'm so sorry I haven't like set up any request rules yet which I should do lol, but I'm so shehejwj but I don't have limits on requests! I just try to get to them when I can &lt;3 Also I'm so sorry about the late response! College is hard x[

But also, I wanna do some scenarios for this, so I'm gonna have to only pick a few that I feel I can write the best for this if that's ok cause ngl I feel the mercury retrograde rn,,,

Scenario: Accidentally triggering past abuse/trauma during an argument (Ranpo, Dazai)

Ranpo

Ranpo was a rather loud guy. That's not his fault, since he's only loud whenever he has a reason to be - he's confident because he knows he can get away with it. He's smart enough to survive some of the most dangerous killers, and is bold enough to laugh in their face about it too.

But god is it aggravating as hell whenever you want to truly talk to the man one on one. Sometimes, you just want to have a normal date with him - like a normal couple and do normal couple stuff.

Like right now, you just want to walk down this busy street and not have to listen to him boast about how stupid people were. It was embarrassing how loud he was about it, how the person who got hit with a car could have easily avoided it had they just checked both sides of the street.

A normal conversation to have after witnesses a horrible event, but you could feel the stares from across the street from the mans wife. Especially towards Ranpo, who seemed to have no social boundaries as everyone else in the area seemed to instead be occupied with the normal human behavior of freaking out after witnessing a man flying in the air and being hit by a car.

To save face, you dragged him away, with him still talking about it as if it were a normal everyday thing. In his world, it probably was - but not to you. Not to normal people, who didn't think about death everyday.

"Ranpo, you need to quiet down."

"What? I'm just saying. It was pretty avoidable you know?"

You turned around to glare at him, gripping your enclasped hands tightly. He thought nothing of it, swirling his ramune bottle rather casually. The ball clinked around with each step the both of you took together.

"I know that. But you do know that it's pretty insensitive to say that in front of him and the wife who saw her husband get hit with a car."

"Y/n."

You were forced back as Ranpo stopped on the sidewalk. It was apart of a narrow stretch of road, empty and away from the commotion, which forced you to look at him. He was staring at you with his eyes, as if trying to puzzle something.

"You don't actually care about them."

There was a pause. You blinked once. Then twice.

"What do you mean by that?"

He held your hand tighter, almost painfully so.

"You don't really care about them that much. So why are you defending them?"

His viridian eyes bore into yours, which deeply unsettled you. He meant nothing by it, especially with the iron grip he had on your hand which kept you in your spot.

"Because not everyone is a superfreak like you Ranpo!"

But it made you incredibly uncomfortable.

You felt the need to defend yourself, somehow.

"Some people have 'empathy' which I know is a foreign concept to people like you."

It was as he cocked his head to the side, like a crow trying to understand what you had just told him. It was as if what you just said had gone right through him, like the wind.

"You don't mean that."

He pulled you towards him. You tried to step back, but you only found yourself stepping around and trying to find your balance again.

You flinched when Ranpo reached to balance you, but you still felt the energy from your sudden bout of frustration pumping through your body. It was embarrassing, but your mind and body were reacting all on their own.

Ranpo kept staring at you, looking past your angry scowl and into something deeper.

"I'm not your enemy Y/n, I know you're upset but there's something more."

He left you feeling naked there.

"It's not that deep. You don't need to defend yourself against me."

You looked down, avoiding his eyes. The sidewalk underneath you was rather cracked and abandoned - there was a dandelion growing just underneath your feet, a rather resilient flower.

"I'm not defending myself, I'm just..."

Ranpo lifted your chin up so you could meet his eyes again, which were now softer, as they had quickly figured out the puzzle that he's struggled with.

You looked back at him. A part of you wanted to keep arguing - it was in your nature, to keep fighting. Unfortunately, it was something you've done for a long time, which Ranpo has figured out by now.

Another thing that made you feel a little uncomfortable.

He met you with a cheeky smile, like a little rat. He closed his eyes, his cheeks raising to meet his eyes.

"I know. You're a good person Y/n."

Dazai

"I just don't think you understand. I can't expect you to, but it's not your problem, so why are you so upset about it?"

Dazai was looking at you from the couch, watching as you were once again picking up bottles he had left from one of his drinking binges. He still smelled of last night, wearing the same clothes and smelling of the various drinks he had lost himself in.

"It clearly is my problem. I'm the one cleaning up your mess right now, so how could I not be involved? Dear god, do you ever look at yourself and want to even try to be better?"

Dazai looked at you, sitting up from his previous lounging position. He stared up, his elbows resting on his knees as he stared at you - his eyebags prominent in the early morning sunlight.

"What do you mean 'try' to be better? Have you ever even known what it's like to be like this?"

You rolled your eyes, dragging the bag to the front door so you could later bring it to the dumpster of your apartments. In your eyes, he was clearly being dramatic - sitting like some sort of mafioso, needing only a cigarette to seal the deal.

"Everyone has had it hard at one point Dazai. Losing yourself to alcohol every night and weekend doesn't justify it. You have a life to live you know? It's worth living."

You heard footsteps approach behind you, and looked up to see Dazai standing a little too close for comfort. His body was warm, and you could see the sweat and stains on his bandages. His hair was usually fluffy hair was greasy, but his eyes - they were dark, simply staring down at you.

"What do you know about living?"

"What?"

He had backed you into the wall, his hands now on either side of you, blocking you from exiting the danger that had become him and whatever emotional rage he had thrown himself into.

"You act like you know so much about life but you know nothing! You don't know anything about death or life - I don't think you know anything at all really. You feel all too comfortable making these assumptions about me when you don't know who I am, do you?"

He was smiling but it didn't reach his eyes at all.

You pushed at him, trying to find space to escape from his hold. His clothes and warmth made you want to burn your skin and run at that moment, and you closed your eyes in order to avoid the worst of your fears as you knew he was staring at you with those eyes that seemed to hold nothing but contempt in that very moment.

When you couldn't break free, instead feeling him pressing himself more against you, you felt your eyes begin to tear up.

"Dazai get the fuck away me."

"Or what? What will you do, oh sweet belladonna?"

You could feel tears build up in your eyes as your pushing did nothing against him - so you resorted to what you knew would work.

You raised your knee as hard as you could, and watched as Dazai fell hard on the ground, falling like a sack of potatoes. He writhed around, clutching his pearls while you gripped your pants, trying to soothe your nerves.

"Dazai I'm..."

You looked around your apartment, looking at the mess that it had become because of him. You looked back down at him, who was still on the ground and wasn't saying anything.

"Dazai I'm going to leave for a bit. Sorry."

I'm so sorry this took so long waaaaahh I'm a slow writer I'm working on it tho ;( also I was thinking about doing Jouno but I felt that it would've been super harsh so maybe I'll do him another time

[whatsaninterestingplacethisis]

Flower Boy

Imagine

Nico Hischier x Latina!Reader

Synop: y/n a bitter florist, notices the foreign man that always stops by her work once a week.

a/n: Shy Nico + reader who hates love bc she’s never been in love before?

cw: cussing

Being a florist didn’t really require much work, depending on the day you could be held in the back or on dreaded days in the front left to socialize with people.

There are many types of people who buy flowers in person: 1. Spouses who think of their significant other 2. Spouses who forgot a special date for the significant other 3. Birthdays or house warming gifts etc.

Depending on who came into the small shop, it set the mood for the small talk. Spouses who were stressing about a forgotten anniversary kept silent. Spouses who bought a bouquet of roses wouldn’t stop talking about their ‘honey bun’.

The silence was always preferred over the “my girlfriend this” or “my boyfriend that”. Nobody asked, just take the goddamn flowers to your ‘sweetie pie’.

Lord knew you weren’t getting any flowers from anyone else. Probably the reason why you were so bitter. Either way, the rare chance you were gifted flowers, those babies would die within a week.

Ironic, working at a flower shop only to neglect the ones at home. Not that you had any at the moment.

Anywho you knew every time a fine man that walked into that door was most likely taken. Including the brunette with a backwards cap on scanning the sun flowers. He was too handsome to be single you thought.

You were gawking at him until he started to walk up to the counter.

“Hi, I want a sunflower bouquet but I’m not sure what else to add. Could you help me out?” the brown eyed man asked with a friendly smile

“No problem” you replied with a customer service smile. You walked outside the counter and helped the guy with the arrangement.

+

“How does this look?” You turned around with the finished design.

“It looks amazing, I really appreciate the help. I don’t know much about flowers but these look great.”

“That’s why im here to help.” You said with a half ass smile as you hand him the bouquet.

“That will be $32” Flowers were expensive too.

“Thanks again, these are going to make my mom smile.” Well that was different, the bouquet were for his mother and not his girlfriend.

“I hope she will.” You said with a genuine smile this time, a green flag noted for the man who buys his mom flowers.

++

Next week you were in the back, finishing up on bulk orders the shop needed for the following week.

“Hey y/n could you stand in for me a bit I need to take this call, pretty please?” Your coworker Ash who was working the front disrupted your silent shift.

“Sure” the call was probably about their cat, it had some medical issues lately as Ash had rambled on about.

Luckily no one was in the front when you took over and the call wouldn’t have taken too long. But you spoke too soon as the bell rang on the entrance door.

Lo and behold it was the green flag brunette. Instead of looking around he walked straight up to you at the counter.

“Hi” he said

“Hi”

“Did your mom like the bouquet?” You asked

“Huh?” He was almost out of breath when he came in.

“Last week, you were here and bought a sunflower bouquet that I beautifully made.”

“Oh yeah, sorry. Yeah she loved it, thanks.” He quickly said, it looked like he was about to break a sweat

“So what can I help you with today?” You offered your services like usual

“Um well I want to- actually I’m in a rush and- can I just buy a single rose? Is that weird?” He stumbled over his words for the most simplest order

“A single rose it is, not weird at all. It won’t take long.” You turned to grab a single plastic sleeve and walked over to grab the best rose out of the bunch and packed it up.

“Your total is $3.” You handed the rose to Mr. Brunette and softly took his three one dollar bills.

“Thanks…y/n.” He said your name to your surprise

“Uh no problem.” You forget you’re wearing a name tag considering no customer calls you by your name.

He opened his mouth like he was going to say something else but just turned and took big strides out the door.

++

Next week was organizing the newly ordered flowers on the ground floor. Luckily they came in time before the downpour started. If it was raining it meant less customers were going to show, which of course you didn’t mind.

You were organizing the tulips when the hanging door bell chimed, making you turn to look at the drenched brunette who has always made an appearance every week.

“Hi” you said across the shop in confusion as to why he would walk in the rain to buy overpriced flowers.

“Hi” he tried to air dry his hair with his hands as if he were a golden retriever

“Do you need a towel or something?” You asked as you moved to the back to get one.

“That would be great.” He stood there awkwardly

You handed him a small towel, “Thanks”

“So did the rain inspire you to buy flowers today or?” You joke about his wet shirt and damp hair state

Fortunately, he laughs along. “No, it just surprised me as I walked here.”

“Well then, what can I get you today… I hope it’s not weird to ask for your name considering this is third time I’ve seen you here.”

“Not weird at all, it’s Nico. Honestly any small flower arrangement is fine today, whatever you think looks good.”

“Alright, Nico, I’ll see what I got. Is this for your mom again?” You never initiated small talk with customers but Nico was becoming a regular and you wanted to know if he was single or not.

“No” he laughed “it’s for a girl.” Thunder hit outside as the sound of your dreams being crushed.

“Oh that’s sweet.” Small talk was over now on your behalf. But the arrangement was going to be pretty either way.

+

By the time you exchanged the money for the flowers it was still raining outside, too hard for anyone to be walking without an umbrella.

“The rain hasn’t slowed down at all, I think there’s an umbrella I can lend you. It’s in the back just give me a sec.”

“It’s okay really, I don’t mind some rain.”

“It’s no problem.” You went in the back to find said umbrella

“I found it, it’s a bit dusty though-“ but Nico was gone and you were left alone with the flowers.

++

“So did you ask her- Dude why are drenched? You’re making a mess on my floor.” Jack said to Nico who was out of breath.

“It’s raining.”

“Obviously. So did you ask her for her number?” Jack asks his friend who had been pining over the flower girl, as Jack puts its, for weeks now.

“No. I chickened out last minute.”

“More like again. I mean c’mon I still have the rose from last time. What excuse did you say this time?”

“I said these were for a girl.” Nico motioned the fragile and ruined bouquet from the rain and running.

“Oh my god you’re an idiot. She totally thinks you have a girlfriend now.”

“Well I panicked! If I show up one more time she’ll think I’m a weirdo.”

“Maybe go again later today, when the rain is gone, and ask her out officially.”

“What if she thinks I’m a stalker or something?”

“She wouldn’t be that wrong to be honest.”

“Not helpful.”

“Neither is the rainwater on my wooden floors. Clean up before you go and see her.”

++

Nico leaving you without a goodbye was weird to say the least and rude. He literally vanished into thin air. Soon after he left the sky was clearing up and turning blue again.

An hour passed by and you were done restocking the flowers and ready to take a needed break. Since you were the only one there, you flipped the closed sign with the clock on it to read ‘will return at 2:20pm’ and locked the door. You decided to watch The Crown in the back room while eating your favorite snack. Although, half way into your break you hear fast and loud knocking.

“What the hell man, I swear some people cannot read.” You complained to yourself and went out to see Nico again but this time locked outside the shop.

You unlocked the glass door and opened it ajar for the guy, “hi” you say in a questioning tone.

“Did the flowers get ruined by the rain? Because I did have an umbrella for you, but you kind of just disappeared right after.” Nico was trying so hard to control his fast breathing, but you noticed. He just kept silent trying to hold in his breath.

“Are you okay? Did you run down here? Or is someone chasing you?” You peered outside the door to see anyone that could be possibly chasing him but no one was out of sorts.

“Can I come in?” he finally says something

You side eyed the closed sign and looked at your watch, there was a little over five minutes left of your break, but whatever right?

“Anything for my favorite customer” you stepped aside to let him in before closing the door again.

“So be honest with me, the flowers are ruined right?” You asked knowing you were 90% right.

“Yeah, sorry, they are.”

“To be expected. Well I can make you the same ones, not free though, I did advise you to take the umbrella.” You didn’t want to sound mean but you were right and Nico knew that.

“Actually, can I get one that you would like, if someone gave you flowers?” This was not a shocking request considering other boyfriends that come in ask the same thing because they don’t know what their girlfriends like.

“No problem.” You always had the same bouquet in mind for this request, very simple and easy to care of, but a sight to see nonetheless.

+

“Here you go, don’t ruin these ones now.” You joke, hoping it would land and it did with Nico’s smile as proof.

“Hopefully your girlfriend likes them.” You say flatly before turning to clean up the scraps of the arrangement.

“Actually” he whisper yells before you turn around completely. He passes the flowers back to you, with a note of his own with his number on it.

You looked down at the flowers and catch the note, “I thought you had a girlfriend” you asked looking at the man across from you.

“No, I don’t I gave the rose to my friend, he still has it.”

“Oh…?” You say in confusion on what he was trying to say.

“Oh we’re not- he’s just a friend- I’m- this is my way of asking you out and I’m doing a horrible job, sorry”

“So the first sunflower bouquet wasn’t for your mom?” You were totally confused.

“No those were actually for my mom. The rose, wasn’t for anyone, I just wanted to see you again. Sorry if that’s weird.”

“And today’s flowers?”

“Another excuse to see you again.”

You started to smile and almost laughed at his stumbling of words “I see”

“I was supposed to ask you out earlier today but I backed out and now I’m here again.” He says with a nervous smile patiently waiting for your response.

“Thanks Nico, you’ll get your answer when I get back home.” You slyly say before placing the flowers in a vase of water.

“Okay, have a nice day.” He said with zero confidence as he walked out the shop thinking he completely screwed up.

++

You got home later and set the flowers on your counter, taking the hand written note with you to your couch.

Flower boy (nico)

Hey flower boy, I think I have your answer. Also I think it’s really sweet to give your friend flowers!

[sardonic-the-writer]

𝐌𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐨𝐜 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐀𝐬𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐓𝐨 𝐄𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐎𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

↳ warnings: fighting, brief mentions of injuries & alcohol. murdoc is a warning in himself to be frank

↳ song: rock the house—gorillaz

↳ notes: headcanons about murdoc & you. made to be platonic/a self insert type fic, but could be romantic too. this overall just stemmed from my infatuation and hatred for his green ass

nasterlist | commissions | carrd

• Murdoc is so self-absorbed. It's honestly beyond you how he hasn't floated away into the sun with how inflated his ego's gotten

• It doesn't help that he's regarded as the sole reason for bringing together one of the best bands ever recorded—something that he holds over the entire bands head when he feels like being an asshole

• With that giant persona of his inevitably there comes jealousy. The musician gets unreasonably grumpy if someone, especially you, is ever more excited to see a collaborator over for a recording session instead of him of all people

• "You were just gawking at 'em the entire time like an idiot! Wha', never seen a bloody live recording before?" Murdocs accent clipped his words as his gravely voice spit fire at you one afternoon. You just laughed at his annoyance, not even bothered by his attitude after years of putting up with it

• "Murdoc, it's De La Soul. Of course I'm going to be excited. It's ten times better than waking up to you rummaging around in the fridge with nothing but a thong on."

• "Get fucked you little twat." He barked, stomping off and ending the little spat. You didn't see him the rest of the day, no doubt off brooding in his Winnebago. It didn't bother you. More quiet time to hang out with Noodle for you!

• More than often, the two of you have been recorded in separate interviews talking about the other. Mostly just talking shit

• "So, what's this we've all been hearing about a certain bassist getting in a car accident?" A random reporter asked you one day from over their horn rimmed glasses. 2D, who was currently the only other person besides you that had been able to make it to the questioning, scratched his head absent-mindedly as you cackled in glee

• "Yeah yeah. I ran over Muds with my car one day. Just knocked his sorry ass right over. Pow! He recovered fine, dont worry, but the moment he did, I had to run for my life." You managed to get out through laughter. "Still have no idea how those fucking tabloids got ahold of that story."

• "Wasn't it an accident f'ough? I remember you sayin that." 2D tilted his head with a slight lisp

• You just grinned toothily and said nothing

• "It. It was an accident. Right?" He asked again, this time with more nerves

• The interview was cut off shortly after that

• On the topic of cars, Murdoc's own set of wheels was probably his only pride an joy apart from his bass. And ironically, the van was the bane of the rest of the bands existence

• The amount of times you had to bang on the Winnebago's dented door to tell him to shut up— the smell of cigarettes, sex, and too many air fresheners leaking from the cracks —should be a crime

• And each time without fail, you were always met with a shirtless Murdoc; either inviting you in for his version of a night of fun or just plain flipping you off

• You always found the latter easier to deal with

• Russel has always been the medium for any serious fights you and Murdoc would have. You both fight a lot, sure, but normally over small things like who should run out to get more booze or tune up band equipment. It was only when things got really heated that the drummer would step in

• Nine times out of ten, that just meant he'd pick you up with one arm and place you in a separate room until the two of you could stand to be around each other. It was always you he did that to, too, since the one time he'd tried that on Murdoc, Russel narrowly avoided a black eye and a week's docked pay

• It really was easy to forget that technically Murdoc is your boss. With how much shit he gives out, and vise versa from all of you, it really just felt like he was an annoying roommate. An annoying, rich, and vibrant green roomate

• At the end of the day, though, none of you really hated him. Well, the jury was still out on 2D, but you had a feeling the past few years the singer had been trying to pick himself back up

• Murdoc, however much of a prick he is, is still a key part in the band. Without him, some of the best song you'd all produced would have never happened, and some of your best drinking memories would have never happened. Hell, he even did a pretty good job raising Noodle. With plenty of help from everyone else, of course

• So no matter how many inanimate objects you all chucked at each other's head, at the end of the day you'd never trade him for another bass player

• "You lot getting soft on me now?" He grinned sharply at you, licking the outside of his teeth as you pretended to vomit at the mere thought of being nice to him

• "I'd rather die and be reincarnated as a cockroach." You grimaced dramatically. But the both of you were smiling at each other, breaking up the conversation with playful punches

[mywons]

❛ boyfriend!jungwon headcanons.

▸ ִֶָ tags [ boyfriend ] jungwon x reader, fluff + mentions of kissing + cute wonnie + just a happy relationship + mentions of petnames. warnings! && possible warning : very brief (2) mentions of marriage + mentions of jealousy / possessiveness. ✿ 0.6k words —

## HEADCANONS UNDER THE CUT !

won is very . . . loveable

he's super affectionate & loveydovey, he does any & everything to show how deep his love for you runs

dates with him are usually full of spontaneity. quick & fun picnics, a playful movie night with takeout

out of all of enhypen, i think jungwon is the second most type to date-to-marry (after mr. husband material park jongseong). so while he's very fun and playful, he's serious about you too

he wants you to know that he sees a future with you and if you don't see that with him, what's the point?

likes to keep polaroids of you scattered across his room's walls

collects the silliest little trinkets & souvenirs whenever the group goes someplace new, only to bring them back to you

the type of bf to text you at 3am and ask if you wanna raid the nearest corner store

kisses you very often. as a greeting, as a goodbye, as a reward, bc you look cute, he literally just loves kissing you

doesn't get jealous easily but so so so clingy when he does ,, will pull you towards him and refuse to let go

so so so so caring, smothers you with all the love in the world whenever you're feeling down :(

petnames include: lovey & pretty baby

likes to sleep with his head on your chest so that he can hear the rhythm of your heartbeat <3

definitely randomly calls you at all times of the day, just saying he misses you

^^ "i called you earlier why didn't you answer :(" "bc i'd literally just left your place" "so..????"

he's like ur MY lover u need to be attached to my hip at all times bc ur my baby !!!!!!

and he's so real for that honestly

i think he to an extent feels an overwhelming sense of protectiveness for you and because of that, he tends to overthink ab if even the smallest things he does are affecting you negatively

constantly making sure you're happy/content in your relationship, asking if there's anything else you'd like for him to do

he's just super careful with you

nd so supportive oh em gee !! if ur an idol like him, he's at every single show he can make it to. cheering you on, shouting "thats my baby 🫵"

if you're interested in smthn else/neither of you are idols, he's still definitely supporting you in whatever interest you have

constantly complimenting you and praising how your brain works. he admires everything about you

sometimes buys stuff in a bigger/smaller size so that he has an excuse to wear it and then give it to you

^^ "oh it doesn't really fit me so here you go :]" knowing damn well he just wants you to smell like him

definitely competitive when it comes to you. "oh yeah? well my lover can do this and this"

forever seeking any reasons to make you feel good about yourself

likes when you play with his hair after a long day or even sing to him, ironically.

really just enjoys the sound of your voice

would love to adopt a bunch of cats and grow old with you <3

never is the one to end any contact with you first. oh you guys are on the phone? better hang up first bc he isn't. won't even pull from a hug first, and would run out of oxygen if it meant keeping his lips on yours instead of resorting to pulling away

sees himself marrying you has thought about it plenty of times and voiced his ideas for the wedding, resulting in teasing from the members

eats ingredients out of your food that he knows you don't enjoy so you won't have to pick the pieces out !!

likes being called honey

need him to be my boyfriend immediately

mywons © 2023 ## please do not plagiarize my works.

[chicaboom-chic]

More Than Business- Michael Corleone x Reader

PROMPT: The reader is from a different crime family and she thinks he’s only marrying her for connections but he actually loves her.

Thank you @21witnokidz for the prompt.

WARNINGS: None, other than pretty shitty writing. (My cousin and I wrote this when we were drunk. Seriously guys this story is disjointed and weird. Sorry)

WORD COUNT: 3967 

There’s a moment where it hits you again; there it is that feeling of unease and formidable tension. It resurfaces in the silence, as you stare at Michael from across the room. You’re in his father’s office with him, he had whisked you away from the hectic party for a moment alone, a moment of brief intimacy. 

It was ironic the party was being thrown for the both of you but between the questions from the nosy aunts, cousins, and uncles, you and Michael had barely seen each other. And now even with your absence the party still raged on outside. Lively chatter and laughter could be heard from behind the office door, it was accompanied by the slow strum of a guitar and the sweet serenade of Italian songs.

Michael’s family and your family had congregated at the Corleone house. They had come toghether for a celebration of great measure, an engagement party; your engagement. Michael had proposed to you three months ago but had only announced your engagement two weeks ago. So naturally, a party had been thrown. Nearly everyone who knew your family and the Corleone family had turned up.

Don Corleone's house was littered with family, friends, politicians, and those alike, all of whose faces were twisted into smiles of great elation. In the parlor, the women sat, forming a small mother’s club where they caught up on gossip and talked about their children.

 Outside by the courtyard, the men congregated laughing as they took swigs of alcohol, downing drinks that they would definitely feel in the morning. And the kids were everywhere, they absolutely swarmed the place; you could only imagine what the rest of the Corleone house looked like.

It was a day of great joy… it was supposed to be. However, you couldn’t bring yourself to smile or even share the same level of excitement everybody had. It was your engagement party but you had never felt more restless and miserable.

Since the party had commenced a feeling of worry had been toiling in your stomach, which expanded the already deep chasm of doubt, that had managed to grow in size over the passing weeks.

What had started out as a silly afterthought, had now become a horrifying idea.

Is Michael using me?

In the last few months, a slew of thoughts had slipped their way into your subconscious, thoughts that made you question the intentions Michael had for asking for your hand in marriage.

Is Michael using me?

You shot a glance at Michael from your seat, retreating from your thoughts temporarily. He was by his father’s cabinet pouring himself a glass of whiskey. He noticed your prying gaze and met your eyes, he smiled at you warmly.

You smiled back, however, the smile didn’t reach your eyes. Instead, when you looked at Michael a pang of sadness hit you.

You fought the urge to frown as you thought back to the hushed business conversation Michael frequently had with your father after you had gotten engaged, you remembered the look of appraisal in his father, Vito’s, eyes when you were introduced to him as Michael’s fiancee. You remembered how surprised Tom looked when he registered your last name.

It had been right in front of you, all the signs were glaringly red.

Oh, God!

You tore your eyes away from Michael and looked down at your lap. In your lap sat your hands which you fiddled with uncontrollably.

How could I be so stupid? You thought bitterly. It all makes sense now.

Being the daughter of one of the wealthiest men in new york sometimes meant that men took interest in you for the wrong reasons. You also weren’t privy to your father’s business, which often attracted certain types of men.

You knew the ins and outs of your father’s business, the connections he had; connections that a family like Corleone’s would need.

Connections that Michael might need.

No, this can't be. 

You swallowed the lump that had been forming in your throat, biting down on your trembling lip to stop the whimper escaping from your lip.

It can’t be…

It was a sickening thought really, that perhaps Michal wanted you for what you could offer and not who you were. Maybe the love between the both of you was synthetic on his part; a mere ruse to obtain financial and business opportunities.

That in itself was bad enough, however, the sting of being used didn’t hurt as much as the sting of not being loved. In your mind, if Michael did love you and was using you, you could tolerate it to some level because at least he loved you. But whether he loved was a question that hung in the air, like a foul stench.

Did Michael love you?

Did he not?

It was painful to think about. You never considered that you would have to think about Michael this way. When you began dating Michael, the idea had never crossed your mind. 

Michael had just back from the war and had ended a relationship with a school teacher by the name of Kay, at the time you didn’t know he belonged to the Corleone family, he was very distant about his family.

After dating for a small amount of time you had found yourself utterly taken with him, practically obsessed. He was everything you longed for in a man. He was kind, gentle, and compassionate, he was also highly attractive which helped greatly. When he asked you to marry him you didn’t hesitate to say yes.

Now looking back on it maybe you shouldn’t have been so hasty.

If I had known I was to be a trading piece I would have-

“Y/n, what’s wrong? You’ve been really quiet.” Michael asked suddenly, breaking the silence that had been lingering between the two of you. His voice drew you from your thoughts and you looked up.

He was leering at you from his behind the desk, his face was a mixture of concern and curiosity. By now he had noticed the unease plastered on your face as well as the detachment you had from him. You had been silent for too long.

You looked at him, questioning whether it was wise to lie. Michael was rather receptive when it came to your emotions, he could notice the subtle changes in your mood. He would easily know if you were lying.

“Oh, it’s nothing, Michael.” You said as you shook your head. You opted to lie, knowing he wouldn’t press the matter further unless you gave him a reason to.

You straightened your shoulders and gave him your most convincing smile. “I’m just tired that’s all.” You chalked it down to fatigue, a plausible excuse, after all, today you had been very busy.

Michael nodded, and his eyes dropped from you momentarily. He placed his glass of scotch down on the desk and unloosened his tie. “Are you enjoying yourself this evening?” He asked. As he did so, he released an exasperated sigh.

Your eyes dropped from him, and you looked up to the ceiling. “Ummm, yes.”

No, Michael, I’m not. Are you marrying me for my family’s connections?

The thought fired past the many ones just like it in your head. But you merely ignored it. You sighed and looked away from the ceiling, looking back at Michael.

“How about you?” You said, trying to squash any feelings of doubt.

“Yes, though I didn’t get to talk with a lot of people as I was wrapped up in some things.” Michael walked away from the desk and sat on a chair at the other end of the room.

“However, I actually did manage to talk to your aunts though, rather they found me. We had some interesting conversations.” Michael laughed as he thought back to how your aunts had grilled him about whether big noses are a sign of good endowment in Italian culture.

“The women in your family are quite some characters!”

Michael’s voice filled the room as he continued to talk, he was more talkative than usual. He went on about the party. But his words were met with no replies, you weren’t really listening, you just nodded absent-mindedly at his comments. The bombardment of thoughts had already made it hard for you to hear.

Does he love me?

He says it all the time, but now I’m not sure.

But what else did I expect?

Of course, he’s marrying me for my father’s connections, do you think a girl like me would ever have a chance with a man like Michael if I didn’t have something to offer?

Your thoughts were spiteful and bitter, they pricked at you like a needle. They hurt you greatly but you couldn’t help but conjure them. You couldn’t help but believe they were true.

Your doubts continued as did  Michael’s chatter, however unbeknownst to you, he had stopped talking a while ago. He had noticed that you were engorged by silence, this was the second time you had become unresponsive.

“Have you eaten?” Michael asked. 

The question went over your head, you were too trapped in your thoughts.

“Y/n?” Michael’s voice suddenly peaked, having to have raised his voice for you to hear.

You jolted suddenly. “Pardon?” You met his gaze again.

“Did you eat? You said you were tired.” Michael was frowning now; it was a frown of concern.

You swallow hard. The room has suddenly become unbearably small as if it’s shrinking. You begin to feel unpleasantly warm.

I’m making a scene. Oh my god. He’s going to notice.

“I umm, I-. Look, Michael. I think I’m going to go home.” You avert your eyes from him after making your request.

You cringe the moment the request slips out of your mouth. It’s crazy, you know it is, it’s your engagement party, leaving would not only seem strange but raise more questions than you care to answer. But you just wanted to go home. 

The environment of the party was suffocating, it was suffocating to be around Michael.

“Leave?” Michael questions. You don’t have to look up to know there's a look of confusion on his face, his tone says it all.

“I know it’s a bit early, but I really want to go home.” You say truthfully. “If that's fine with you, that is.” You add in a small whisper.

“No, no it’s fine.” Michael's face softens. “If you feel tired you should go home.” He sounds understanding, and its comforts you slightly.

“I’ll think of an excuse for your absence, but first let me get someone to drive you home, I would do it myself but we both can’t go missing.”

“What are you going to do by yourself?” You ask curiously as you rise from your chair preparing to leave. You feel partially guilty that you’re leaving Michael here alone, but you know it’s for the best until these feelings subside. You wonder if time apart will clear your head.

“I still have some people to talk to.” Michael stands up from his chair, he stretches before fixing his tie. Then he walks over to you, offering you his hand to help you up.

You smiled at him warmly and took his hand, uprooting yourself up from the chair. When you stood up he planted a small kiss on your cheek. It made your smile widen. It was your first genuine smile of the night.

You then looked at Michael, properly this time, taking in the features of his face. There were lines under his eyes, and his hair was a little ruffled. He was tired, very tired, and yet the smile on his face remained when he was around you, a smile of complete adoration. 

Surely a man who was using you wouldn’t look at you that way? Could he?

With that thought, you felt guilty. Perhaps you were overreacting, after all these thoughts had come from nowhere, how could you judge Michael purely based on thoughts?

Maybe I am overreacting?

Michael cleared his throat. “Besides I still have things to talk to your father about that are business related.” 

Upon hearing that the warmness of Michael’s previous gesture faded away, and the smile dropped from your face. You let go of Michael’s hand immediately. The thoughts came crashing in again at the mention of business and your father.

“You speak to my father a lot these days.” You said with a hint of irritation. The past feelings of sadness were replaced with those of slight anger. 

Michael hadn’t seemed to notice the sudden change in your tone. “I have to.” He shrugged. “We have a lot of business to discuss.” He tried to reach for your hand to hold it again. But you kept them firmly to your side.

Your brows furrowed into a glare. “Business, business, hmm.” You snapped. “It’s all my father and you ever talk about!” The last sentence was particularly icy.

This time Michael caught onto the increase of snark in your voice. He looked at you carefully, he was quiet as he assessed the sudden coldness emitting from you before choosing to speak again.

“I suppose so? Your family and mine are working together now, so it only makes sense…” Michael was sure to tread carefully with his words.

“And you know, after we get married it will only continue,” He added. 

Your eyes widened immediately, and your mouth fell open.

Oh no.

Michael’s words were practically an omission. In your mind, this was the nail in the coffin. The wave of sadness that hit you was immeasurable. Your worst fears had been confirmed. Michael was only marrying for your connections, he didn’t love you, and he never had. 

You didn’t feel the tears streaming down your face until the second one reached your chin. “So you don’t love me?” Your voice cracked.

“What?” The question caught Michael off guard, and so did the tears. He blinked. “Y/n?” This is something he clearly hadn’t anticipated.

You drew a quivering breath, clearing the air that had been trapped in the back of your throat, once it was released everything slipped out.

“How could I be so stupid?” You sobbed.

“I knew that this marriage was beneficial to your family, you have so much to benefit from this, but I never thought you would-!” You were crying at an abnormally loud level. Tears were streaming down your face as you got choked up on your words.

All the while Michael was in a state of shock. He froze momentarily, this fluctuation in emotions had been so random.

“I know what my father does for a living, I’m not stupid, I know his connections are desirable to many people, including you.” Your voice lowered suddenly. The sudden rush of hysteria you had was wearing off, now you were just filled with dejection, complete and utter dejection.

“I know you don’t feel the same I do.” You sniffed quietly. “How could you?”

“After all, I'm just a business venture, a contract… And yet.” You shook your head, stifling a laugh. “I still love you, even if I know you don’t love me.”

It was ironic, funny, almost tragic. You knew Michael wasn’t marrying you out of love or sincerity but you could never stop loving him.

You laughed again. “What am I even saying?” You felt as if you had been rambling incoherently, spewing utter nonsense for what felt like forever, but once you had started you couldn’t stop.

“I’m so sorry.” You whispered. You slumped back into the chair, burying your face into your hands.

Michael had been silent for most of your tirade, dropped to his knees beside you. The realization had hit him. The silence, the melancholy, the distance you had been putting between the both of you, and the reason behind it were all so clear now.

She thinks that I'm marrying her for her connections. 

He shook his head and exhaled. “Y/n.” He put his hand on your thigh, caressing it slowly. “I’m disappointed to hear that.” He said sadly.

“I’m sorry.” You sniffed.

“No, no, no.” Michael pinched the bridge of his nose with his other hand. “I’m not disappointed in you.”

The disappointment Michael felt was not aimed at you but at himself. A deep shame wallowed in his chest after hearing your confession. He was ashamed that you felt that way, ashamed that he made you feel that way, and ashamed that he had failed to notice.

She thinks of herself as a business venture. Michael swallowed bitterly. His heart ran cold. His guts tangled into a knot. He felt sick. Michael’s mouth went dry as he analyzed you silently. A minute passed before he finally said something.

“Y/n will you please look at me.” He asked softly.

You shook your head, refusing to honor his request. You didn’t move an inch. You were too afraid to look up, deathly afraid to look at his face and whatever expression he had on. You wish he would just leave you to sob in the confines of his father’s office but you could still feel his presence by your chair and you knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

Michael sighed. He removed his hand from your thigh and placed it on your cheek. You shivered at his touch, but you still refused to look up.

“Do you really believe that I'm marrying you because of your father’s business connections?” Michael’s voice was at a whisper now.

“That’s why you’ve been so distant lately hmm?” He began to caress circles on your cheek. “You believe that I’m doing this strictly for business purposes.”

“And do you really believe that I don’t love you?” He said bitterly.

You cringed, slouching into your chair even more, you wished you could sink into the chaie and disappear. He sounded angry. You began to worry that this would lead to an argument, perhaps it hadn’t been the best to break down at this very moment.

But the next words from Michae’s mouth weren’t ones of anger in fact they sounded quite regretful.

“I’m sorry.” He said. “I’m really sorry.” There was great despair in his voice. 

“I’ve made you feel as if you are nothing more than a trading piece.” Michael exhaled. He couldn’t remember a specific time or day he had behaved in a manner that made you feel less than, but he clearly had, and it had made you so insecure that you felt as if he didn’t love you.

“Y/n,” He said firmly. He knew he had to rectify the situation, he couldn’t have you believing that he didn’t love you. “My family business is important, but so are you.”

“I care about you.”

“I really do.”

He cares about me? You sniffed. 

The level of sincerity was enough to lull you out of your state, but not enough to entirely draw you out. You weren’t fully convinced. He cared about you but did he love you? Did he love you as you loved him? Or was he lying merely to appease you? 

Michael was a gentleman but being a businessman also meant he knew how to lie, and lie very well. You only hoped the latter was true. It had to be for your sake.

“You care about me?” You said slowly. Your face rose from your hands, you let out one final sniff, and exhaled, hoping to gain a bit of courage. “But do you love me?” You questioned. You had to know for sure.

“When we get married could you bring yourself to love me? And don’t lie to me.”

You felt your chest tighten as you looked at Michael who was still kneeling on the floor beside you. Your eyes met his, Michael’s eyes locked deeply into yours and you felt small under his gaze but you dared not to look away. Your breath hitched. You had never experienced a heart attack but you were sure this is what it felt like as you awaited his answer.

Michael examined you properly now as you sat up, you were still slightly hunched over in the chair and your hair was down, now ruffled and messy, it covered the right side of your face. Your eyes were puffy and red. The dim lighting of the room cast a shadow across you, heightening the expression of anticipation on your face and the look of worry, as well as dread.

Then Michael finally spoke. “Y/n, I don’t have to bring myself to love you, because I already do, connections be damned.”

“I’ve loved you for so long, even before I asked  your father for your hand in marriage.” Michael took your hands from your lap and bought them up to his lips. He planted a small kiss on them.

You looked at Michael as your hands sat stalely in his. Michael held his breath as he watched you look into his eyes, he prayed that you would what you were looking for, what had always been there.

At that moment there was a mutual silence between the two of you. You searched Michael’s eyes for any hint of deceit or duplicity, you prowled for any signs that indicated he was lying, but you couldn’t find it. 

In his eyes lay nothing but awe and adoration for you. The look on his face was one of passion and honesty. This wasn’t the face of a man who was lying, this was the face of a man who loved you.

"You really do care for me?' You said quietly. The way the words rolled off your tongue sounded as if you were trying to speak a foreign language. You sounded as if you still couldn’t believe it.

"I do." Michael nodded. "And, once again, I’m sorry that I made you doubt my feelings for you.” He apologized again.

“You want to marry me?” You perked up a little, the warmth was returning to your chest, and your heart rate had begun to still. “You really want to marry me?” You asked again as you squeezed Michael’s hand.

Michael smiled. “Do you think I am the kind of man who would make a commitment to a woman for the rest of my life if I didn’t feel anything for her?” He brushed the hair out of your face and placed it behind your ear.

“Y/n, my feelings for you extend past any business venture,” Michael stated as he leaned and kissed your forehead.

You couldn’t help but crack a small.

Michael loved you.

Michael loved you!

“Can you say that again?” You requested gingerly.

Michael stopped kneeling on the floor and stood up. “Say what?” He questioned, looking down at you.

“That you love me? Please?”

The verbal declaration of Michael’s love for you had washed away all your doubts and lingering worries. Hearing him say three simple words left you feeling euphoric, it felt exhilarating. You wanted to hear him say it again.

“I love you.” Said, Michael. “I’ll say it a thousand more times if you wish.” He smiled.

You nodded. “Yes, do it again.”

“I love you,”

“I love you,”

“I love you.”

Each time he said it, a different wave of joy hit you. You wiped what was left of the tears from your eyes and stood up. You leaned into Michael, burying your face into his chest. Michael wrapped his arms around you and held you tightly.

You felt safe in his arms, you felt happy, you felt loved. The feeling lasted all through the night, even when the both of you returned to the party and people asked why your eyes were so red. You didn’t really care though, Michael loved you, that’s all that mattered.

----------------

This story was an ungodly level of long and cringe.

Anyways hope you enjoyed it.

[rosedom]

Oh, reading through your Tighnari alphabet post has me thinking- which Genshin characters do you think would be into unique bondage styles?

I saw a fan art of Kazuha where he has his wrists bound by a rope from the ceiling and was on the ground with his knees tucked under him and that has me thinking about which characters would be into more uncommon bondage :>

KAZUHA BONDAGE FANARTS ARE SO MMMMMMM . . . he is absolutely perfect for any form of it, be it simple or shibari—especially-so if the ropes are a deep red. red against his pale skin, contrasting it, and going beautifully with his rosy cheeks (and chest . . . and ass . . . and arms . . . 'cos there's no doubt that this guy is another full-body blusher !!) and streak of colored hair . . . he's literally the pattern-setter. genuinely, any kind of bondage just pairs so beautifully with kaz; but he thrives on his knees, knelt all pretty on a pillow <3

as for others . . . hm . . .

listen. really, really listen, okay?

alhaitham. haitham in unique bondage. maybe shibari, maybe something else; but this man wants to be all in. if his wrists are tied, something else must be, too—be that lines of rope or ribbon criss-crossing his biceps or even his chest, chafing so sweetly against his dusky nipples . . . i want this feeble scribe to finally feel feeble. helpless, with his arms tied up and wrists bound to the opposite forearm, his legs tied to themselves but left spread open. he's able to move, still, but only at your touch—you hold the power (the power he so easily gives, the secret loverboy) to open his legs.

on the opposite side of things, i think that venti is a HUGEEE fan of shibari—not in the restraint sense, but in the sense of artwork. he wants to have his body on display to you. so while his limbs may be tied some days, others they aren't; sometimes, he only has rope stringing across his torso without any impediment to his mobility. (he has definitely worn some rope under his clothes on an outing with you~.) venti's got the prettiest lil' body, and he knows it—he ought to show it off with ropes accentuating that trim waist of his, those plump thighs . . . mmm

and then there's cyno.

bondage isn't usually on the table for him—after all, he's an expanse of scarred yet smooth skin . . . any rope marks would be embarrassingly noticable. but, hey—he's got that big ol' cloak for a reason (look, i'm not saying he's got it just because it can hide the rope marks; but it's definitely a bonus he considered). he's another one of those cases of men in power wanting so desperately to submit, to no longer be in control; and what better way than through bondage? especially the types that leave cyno pulsing—through cock n' cunt—with each loop of rope you drag across his body.

but let's take ropes aside, though, and look at the possibility of leather cuffs.

heizou, for one, would be a huge fan of soft leather tying his wrists together and ankles apart, kept snugly locked to a leather-infused spreader bar. he already wears rope in his day-to-day get-up, so to make that switch to leather instead—it's perfectly ironic. just imagining the way sweet heizou would look with his legs kept shoulder-width apart, unable to close, cunt dripping right past his taint to puddle on the floor, his hands cuffed together in soft leather . . . maybe even a leather collar, too.

i'm not normally a fan of leather—the implications of it are always rough in a way i do not enjoy—, but like this . . . heizou is simply perfect for it !!

bondage is so touch n' go for me, but, god . . . when i like it, i like it.

[swee7dream]

the types of littles cg!dreamies would take care of caregiver!nct dream x gn!reader

a/n this is agere content ! all inappropriate interactions will be blocked. please don't interact if you sexualize age regression. thank you ! ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

mark lee (ᓀ‸ᓂ)

a regressor on the older side! probably someone that can communicate their needs and wants with ease.

i feel like mark would be the type of cg that loves teaching you about his passions. he would sit you on his lap and have his hands over yours as he helps you play hot cross buns on the keyboard.

out of all the dreamies, i feel that mark's tiny would be the most fascinated with music and all its elements. you and mark would most likely spend a lot of your tiny time together in a band where the drums are cups and your sticks are pencils.

he's definitely patient and does his best to fulfill his baby's requests no matter how deep in their imagination they come from.

you want a unicorn drink? he'll do his best to make a unicorn with whipped cream and chocolate chips on top of your hot cocoa! you want to go to mars? a trip to the space museum!

huang renjun ૮ ˙Ⱉ˙ ა

a middle (12-15) regressor is definitely someone renjun could go tit for tat with.

you do have lots of little arguments that leave you with your arms crossed but you're always grateful for renjun at the end of the day.

he definitely holds you accountable for habits you know are good for you but you just don't want to for one reason or another.

but it's not as if renjun is a dictator!

renjun is a big fan of dressing up. he's like a little kid on a field trip except instead of asking 'are we there yet?' he asks 'am i pretty? you're making me pretty, right?'

for some reason, i feel like renjun would like to take pictures of you (or pretend to if you don't like being pictured when little). he just thinks you're the cutest thing in the whole wide world! if his tiny felt embarrassed by his fawning he'd only kiss the embarrassment away before continuing to do it some more.

lee jeno ૮ .◜◡◝ა

regardless of age, lee jeno is less of a caregiver and more of a stuffed animal come to life. or maybe a gentle guard dog.

he's usually snoozing on the couch while his tiny plays in the same room. you may think he's asleep but when you try to leave just for a second you hear him go 'where are you going, gumdrop?'

he's a little overbearing at times, which could be a problem especially for regressors on the older side, but he means well!

despite what others might think when first looking at him, jeno is not an iron-fist type of cg. unlike renjun, jeno's tiny can get away with poking his buttons most of the time. keyword: most.

lee donghyuck ʕ˙Ⱉ˙‧:ʔ

cg!donghyuck screams teenage babysitter. he likes kids, but he's kind of too embarrassed to admit it so he tries keeping a distance.

the best pairing for donghyuck would be a bratty little, someone that makes him care. someone that's so unapologetically themselves that he also begins to not care about the anxieties plaguing his mind.

he's still a little annoying as a cg; knocking a piece of track a little to the left so your train rolls off its route, beginning to build his own ice cream store with the block you were about to use, holding up your animal crackers in exchange for some cute and embarrassing poses.

donghyuck and his tiny are fighting the war of getting on each others nerves and neither side is ever gonna win but they fight on anyways.

"i love you, Angel." "...love you too, Channie."

na jaemin ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭

not to put all age regressors in a box, but i feel that jaemin would do well with the image you get in your head when you think of agere. pastel colors, pacis, the whole shebang.

like renjun, he likes playing dress up but specifically enjoys dressing you up. always the prettiest dresses or suits, never letting you even close a button by yourself.

more than dress up though, he definitely likes playing royalty. he likes being either a brave knight that protects you from an evil dragon or your trusty and loyal butler.

jaem as a caregiver would be the most fun thing ever (in my opinion). still, that doesn't mean he's a total jeno i mean pushover. who wrote that? wow that's crazy...

anyway, cg!jaemin is a scary guy. it's at those times when you know you messed up, maybe you broke a vase or something, and you know he should be mad but he's not. he's disappointed. that's a thousand times worse somehow and so you promise him in tears that you'll never do it again.

zhong chenle (ᯟ︿ᯏ)

this guy. this guy is the scariest.

if you have any little buddies and chenle is your cg? you will probably hang out everywhere but his place.

it's a total illusion though, he's not scary at all. he's a big, loud, goofy guy. he's just a little blunt and the fact he wears sunglasses indoors that it scares all the more shy littles away. i feel like this is a bit of a struggle because i imagine that, like chenle, his tiny would be a very friendly social butterfly and their 'baby radar' is nearly 99% infallible.

chenle's tiny is like a well-behaved version of hae's. they're both little gremlins at times but chenle's would definitely keep it under wraps about it.

chenle's tiny has a phd in malicious compliance to chenle's manner rules. lots of "stern" stares full of longing and 'i need this' along with "juice box, please. juice box, please. juice box, please. juice box, p-"

however, they also double majored in kisses and crayon portraits so chenle doesn't even have a chance to get mad.

park jisung (∩˃o˂∩)

jisung's tiny is so teeny tiny and shy, even around him.

jisung is a one in a million man because he's the only one that can instinctively, telepathically, via sign language knows exactly what his baby needs without them having said a word.

it's usually quiet when you're little. maybe you're drawing, maybe you're sleeping, maybe you're just staring off into space. for jisung's little, their regression is just a time when everything can freeze for a second and all that matters is that their favorite plushie is clean and ready to cuddle with.

if jisung had one word to describe the role he has with his little, he would have to say a wall. something firm, something strong, something that ensures that nothing outside is let in and nothing inside seeps out.

a/n hello ! i'm working on some other projects but in the meantime, have this ! i have been posting some of my work also on ao3 so in case you're not on tumblr often, you can also find my one-shots there ! i think i'm gonna keep the bulletpoints here for now tho. i'm hoping you're all having a great start to your springgg (or autumnif ur in the southern hemisphere). oh, i also have question for you! putting aside ur actual dream bias, who do you think would be the best cg for you? me personally, i feel like either jisung or jaemin hehe

[starmistz]

HxH - Dodgeball Scene

Note: This isn't really an analysis but more of a rant, hence it being messy, haha .. (^^ ;) Everything is based on my own opinion too, so I don't guarantee it would satisfy everyone. But anyway, enjoy ur read! :3

(Chapter 166, episode 70.)

If someone asks me which HxH scene is the most misunderstood one, I would say it's this:

I've seen almost EVERYONE in this fandom say that this scene was very "selfish" and "insensitive" of Gon. But dude, c'mon. Do you really think Gon wouldn't give a flying fuck about Killua getting hurt just for his own benefit? He isn't that type of friend. In fact, he literally hates it when Killua willingly hurts himself, like he gets so mad and bothered.

Take this scene for example:

But what piqued my interest was how he still kept this moment in mind after a bunch of chapters later:

It shows how he still didn't forget about that situation, and thought about this self-destructive trait of Killua carefully. Pretty ironic for getting mad at Killua for being like this when Gon himself is also self-destructive, haha. It's like it's indicating that Gon knows how it feels like being self-destructive, so he's trying to stop Killua from feeling that aswell. Keep that in mind though, I'll be talking about it later on. :3

In the mean time, I think it's important to look carefully on to details even if it's tiny. I noticed a few things about this panel too:

Only Gon is drawn with a 💢, and he's also doing a ❌️ finger sign (it's so funny.) I get it probably doesn't have any deeper meaning but the fact that it's like that shows how much he dislikes it if u ask me. 😭😭 I mean, bisky just looks disappointed, not mad. Why not add a 💢 on her too? That's 'cause she's not THAT bothered by it, and it's implying the difference of how they take this trait. And well, Gon takes it SERIOUSLY. So point is, he's not insensitive when it comes to Killua intentionally hurting himself as we see him clearly despising it.

Anyway, remember how I told u to keep that one thing in mind? Yeah, Gon knowing how it feels like being self-destructive and all. We all know that the reason he does this is because he feels weak, and so he has this need to prove himself strong and useful to feel better, right? Well.. I feel like as time goes by, Gon thinks that Killua is also doing this because of the same reason. He notices how far Killua goes just to prove himself worthy too. So when he voluntarily decides to take painful hits in the dodgeball game, Gon encourages it instead. He knows how it feels to be seen as weak, not useful, and not needed. Taking risks for something, but people don't encourage that. They just tell you to stop, not knowing that it would just make you feel even more useless, making you feel like you did all of that for nothing because it was never enough. Gon is aware of that, so he does the opposite to Killua. Don't you guys get it? If he told Killua to just stop, Killua would feel unworthy and not good enough. He's going out of his way to help Gon, he free-willingly decides to take those hits. If Gon told him to stop, it would feel like rejection–that Gon didn't appreciate all that effort, and is techincally telling Killua that his help meant nothing. You can see how Killua was so desperate, he was so pushy with the "I can take one more hit!!! Gon, let me do it!!" and now imagine if Gon said no💀 That would be rejecting his help/an act out of love (platonic or romantic idc.) THAT would be the one that's ACTUALLY insensitive to Killua.

So Gon shows appreciation and encouragement instead, letting Killua's effort not be in vain. Saying stuff like how he NEEDS Killua to be the one that holds the ball for him, how he can't focus if it's not Killua–he needs Killua's help and Killua himself. All of that, is definitely what Killua needed to know too. It literally made him smile and felt more upbeat after, how could people say it was insensitive and would hurt Killua's feelings? 😭 He's happy to know that Gon does care about his efforts for him after all. ᵔᴗᵔ ♡

One thing I'd like to say though is that; That was still unhealthy for both of them. They think self-destructing is the only way they'll feel loved. 🙁 Of course I agree that it was most definitely bad, and it's not a good thing that Gon just fueled up Killua's self-destructive tendencies even more..😭🙏 BUT the point here is that, it wasn't insensitive and selfish of Gon in that moment, okay!?!? They both saw it in a positive light, even though.. it was definitely bad... but uhm anyways yeah, everyone should stop being so upset with this scene. You all are misunderstanding it and it's painful. 😔

But hooray thanks for listening!

[honeyedmiller]

Pout | Joel Miller

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

warnings: slight fluff, literally just dirty smut, swearing, no outbreak, au where Joel never had any kids, no use of y/n, barely any plot. 18+. minors, dni.

word count: 3.5k

synopsis: Joel’s noticed you’ve been working a little too hard, and he misses you, so he decides to use his all-consuming charm to coax you to relax… in more ways than one.

not revised. sorry if there's any mistakes.

-

You’d been up to your neck in work lately, and it was driving you to the brink of insanity.

Your boss thought that you could do the job of five people all at once, which was ironic, because you were getting paid only the salary for one. Your boss was a dick, to say the least. He was a misogynistic wannabe macho man who tried to reign power over any of his employees, especially you.

He saw you as a threat for some reason, and you’re ninety-nine percent sure that reason has to’ve been because your boyfriend owned Austin’s largest and most successful contracting company.

You didn’t talk about your relationship openly with your coworkers, but they all knew who you were with.

Speaking of which, a sadness lured over his heart when he saw you typing away at your laptop, the worry prominent in your brow line.

He hadn’t had the chance to properly see you the past week, because you were so caught up in work and he’d been so busy with multiple construction sites and overseeing new projects soon to take over Austin.

His bare feet padded on the floor as he made his way to you with a bowl of fruit he’d cut up for you to snack on. You were sitting at the edge of the plush couch in your shared living room, gnawing on your bottom lip as you concentrated on the files that needed to be turned in in an hour. You were almost done, thank the heavens.

You were working from home today, which was a relief because you were so tired of the nasty stare your boss gave you, and the condescending comments he threw your way.

Joel set down the bowl of fruit next to your laptop, which broke your gaze from the bright screen for a moment. You smiled up at him, grateful for the tasty snack.

“Thank you, baby.” You were gracious to the loving man, popping a piece of juicy pineapple in your mouth.

Joel didn’t reply, but instead, climbed onto the couch and maneuvered himself so he could sit behind you, his legs bracketing yours. He pulled your back against his chest to help you relax, which you were thankful for.

You hasn’t realized how tense you were until then. As if Joel could read your mind, his hands immediately moved to your knotted shoulders, rubbing them deeply. It drew a groan from your mouth as your head lolled to the side.

“Sweetheart,” Joel whispered into your ear, “You work too hard. I told you you didn’t need to work. You know my successful business can easily take care of the both of us.” He’d brought that point up from time-and-time again, to which you always protested against. You didn’t want to take advantage of his money and success.

You wanted to contribute into your life with him, not just rely on him for everything. He was more than willing to provide for you, which you were eternally grateful for, but doing so would’ve felt like you were taking advantage of him (though he knew that wouldn’t be the case).

“I know, I know. I don’t want to not contribute, though. I’d feel so guilty.” You bit your lip as his lips met the base of your neck. You were wearing a halter top, so he had easy access to your soft skin.

“And I told you that you didn’t need to feel guilty, baby. I got you. Always.” He kissed your shoulder this time, soft and tender.

“I love you, J.” Was all you could whisper to him. He was eventually probably going to win this ongoing little argument, mainly because this job was costing you your mental health. It was time to find a new one.

“I love you, darlin’.” He whispered, kissing you again on your soft flesh before his hands started to roam up and down your sides.

“I have to get this done.” You let out a breathy laugh, slowly getting turned on by his attention from his lips and hands.

“Mm.” Joel didn’t seem to give a damn, as he just wanted to help you relax. He’d missed you so much and was so touch deprived from his woman. He wanted to make you feel good.

His hands moved down to your thighs, skin bare there as well since you were wearing lounge shorts. His fingers traces little patterns into your skin as his chin rested on your shoulder so he could watch you work.

Slowly, his hands started to move up to the apex of your thighs with feather light traces. Your arousal was prominent at this point, but you had to get this done.

His fingers deftly moved up your front, caressing your torso before they found a place on your breasts. He began to massage you there, coaxing a small groan from you.

“I’m almost done with this, J. Let- let me fin-ish.” You were a goner when he started to tug at both of your sensitive peaks, rolling them between his fingers as his lips found home on your neck again.

“Mmm I bet you’re already soaked for me, baby.” He teased, a cockiness in his tone that you couldn’t miss.

Fuck. You had to get this done.

Your breathing became noticeably ragged, each kiss on your neck and soft pull of your sensitive peaks becoming too much. It was too hard to focus at this point, but you powered through.

His hands removed themselves from your breasts and moved back down, one resting firmly on your hip and the other teasingly tracing the outline of your shorts.

He heard no protest from you, so he easily slipped his large hand into the front of your shorts, over the fabric of your lacy underwear.

“Shit, sweetheart, you are soaked for me.” He confirmed as his fingers languidly traced over your clothed core, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Joel, please, let me finish.” Your implication was toward the work in front of you on your laptop, but you could hear the smirk in his voice as he replied to you.

“Gladly, baby.” His fingers moved your panties to the side, sliding his middle finger up and down your slit.

You whine in protest, throwing your head back on his shoulder.

“That’s it. Just relax.” His voice was like velvet in your ear. You wanted to fight so hard against his wishes just so you could get your work done.

That was impossible, though, when he entered his long middle finger into you slowly.

“Fuck,” You pant, “You’re so mean.” You whine, and he knew you had no malicious intent behind your words. It was more ‘playful’ banter, if you will.

“I know baby, I know.” He cooed as he slid another finger in, curling them up into you. You were nearly a writhing mess in front of him with just two fingers. You hated how weak you were for his touch sometimes.

You continued typing the last couple of sentences for the files you needed to submit, and you emailed them to your douchebag of a boss before forcefully shutting the laptop closed. You leaned back into Joel, finally getting to not only enjoy the pleasure he was reigning on you, but his presence in general.

You both had been so busy this past week that it was mostly just eating dinner alone, late night work duties, and going to sleep without him by your side. He was even out of the door some mornings before you even woke up. You knew his schedule was jam-packed now, especially with all of the new and upcoming projects. You understood and weren’t mad one bit. You just missed him.

He pulls his fingers out of you, making you miss the loss of contact already. You turned your head to look at him as he smiled at you cheekily.

“I missed you so much.” You whisper, kissing him softly.

“I missed you too, baby. More than you know.” His hands rest at your hips once more, rubbing small circles into your soft flesh.

“I think I have an inkling,” You giggle softly, turning around to face him. You straddled him easily, draping your arms around the back of his neck.

“You work so hard.” You whisper to him, planting a soft kiss on his neck before you nuzzle your face comfortably in that said spot.

“So do you, my love. But I do it so I can provide for you and any future kids we might have.” He chuckles, and your head immediately snaps up. Your eyes search his in shock; he’d never brought up the subject of kids too often, let alone mention having a potential family.

“You want to have a family with me?” Your voice replicates the look on your face, and he stills his movements as his expression turns serious.

“‘Course I do, darlin’. Is that something you want?” He continues to rub your thighs after his nonchalant confession.

You nod your head, a small smile on your lips. “It is. Just thought I’d be married while discussing this subject, though.” You laugh, bringing your hands down to rest on Joel’s broad chest.

“Oh, don’t worry baby. That’s in the works too.” Joel’s shit-eating grin was enough to make you scoff and hit his chest lightly.

“Don’t fuck with me like that, Joel.” You pout, not knowing if he was seriously considering marriage with you or not. You’d only been together for a little over a year, but you knew he was it for you.

“Don’t pout, baby. You know what that does to me.” He groans, his head lolling back. With his neck so exposed to you, you took the opportunity to litter his warm flesh with soft, wet kisses. Joel’s gruff hands move up to grip your hips tightly, jutting them forward.

You let out a gasp of surprise when your body is flush against his at the sudden movement, and his face is present before yours once more.

“What exactly does it do to you, Joel?”

You can feel his impending erection in his joggers. You bite your lip and bat your lashes at him, feeding him the look of innocence when he knew that was far from the case. You were a minx, but he loved it.

“You know damn well, baby.” His hands find home on your waist, rubbing up and down the slightest bit.

“Mm, I think I need a reminder.” Your grin is devilish as you curl your fingers into his soft, dark brown hair. His lips part as he stares at you daringly, knowing in less than five minutes you’d probably be reciting his name like a prayer.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, baby.” His teasing tone is enough for your core to clench deliciously.

“Isn’t that the whole point?” You start, grinding your hips to his, “To finish?” You’re fighting off a smirk as he groans, your hips pushing down on him to create friction.

“That it is, darlin’.” And before you could even protest, he grabs your thighs and lifts you up with him, carrying you up the stairs and into the bedroom.

He sets you down on the plush bed, wasting no time in discarding you of your halter top and shorts. He was pleased to not have to take off a bra from you, mainly because his fingers tended to fumble in neediness and anticipation every time it came down to it. You thought it was adorable.

His calloused hands immediately moved to grab at the soft flesh of your chest once more. You reached down for the waistband of his joggers and flipped yourselves over, so you were now on top. You tugged his joggers down with his boxers, his erection free and in full sight.

You lowered yourself so you rested between his legs, nails slightly scratching his tan, thick thighs as your mouth was nearly met with the pink tip of his flesh.

You looked up at your lover adoringly before giving his thigh a kiss followed by his tip before swirling your tongue around the top, salty taste of pre-cum evident.

Your soft tongue and plush lips worked at him, taking your time and savoring the silky flesh in your mouth. You eventually moved your head down, not giving a fuck in the world how sloppy it was. Though you were going slower still, the sounds you emitted from this were so unholy. So fucking dirty. It turned you on even more.

The one hand that wasn’t taking care of his balls moved down between your legs, and you began to tease yourself by moving one finger through your slick folds.

“Jesu— fuck, woman, you’re going to be the death of me. Such a pretty fuckin’ girl takin’ care of me like that. Look at you, touching yourself to gettin’ me off.” Joel’s voice was strained, but his words were so hot that it made you whine against his cock. The vibration from your throat made him twitch in your mouth.

He was cursing in pleasure, your name thrown in the mix of sighs and profanities coming from his mouth. You went down even further on him, his tip hitting the back of your throat. Hot tears sprung to your eyes as you gagged.

“Mm, that’s it. Takin’ me in your mouth so fuckin’ well, darlin’. Gonna have me confessin’ all my sins, I swear.” His hand found the back of your head, pushing it up and down in a rhythmic pace. You peered up at him through your lashes, moaning at the sight of him watching you. He was trying his damndest to keep his eyes open so he could see you taking care of him.

Your finger circled around your clit causing you to shudder. You sped up the pace around your swollen nerves, knowing you were close soon. Your attention never wavered from Joel even as you were pleasing yourself. You kept at this for a few minutes before Joel's hips started to stutter.

"Fuck, baby-" Joel couldn't even finish his sentence before you felt him tense up and release into your mouth seconds later, groaning your name loudly. His fingers were threaded into your hair, cradling the back of your head as he rode out his orgasm.

A hot tear rolled down your cheek at the intensity of choking on him, but you didn't dare look away from him as you swallowed everything he gave you. You swiped the pad of your thumb across your bottom lip with a smirk.

"Goddamn minx," He huffed, catching his breath, "Let me take care of ya, darlin'. Relax."

You shifted so you were the one laying down now, and Joel knelt between your legs. He wasted no time moving himself down so his face was met with your slick heat.

"So fuckin' pretty. All for me." He rasped, moving his middle finger to coat itself with your slickness. He attached his lips to your aching clit, sucking on it in a perpetual manner as he moved his middle finger down to your aching core. He teased your entrance with the tip of his finger before fully plunging it into you, adding his index finger to the arousing mix.

Joel always made a note of it to eat you out like he was a starved man who's last meal was you. His skillful tongue and long, thick fingers always had you saying his name like a prayer, and he loved every single second of it.

"Fuck, Joel, right there. Fuck fuck fuck!" Joel's cocky chuckle left him humming against you, knowing you weren't going to last much longer like this. Your hips were rolling against his face and fingers, and the way his tongue was easily gliding into your folds as his strong nose bumped against your clit had you nearly seeing stars. The hot tension in your core was building up quickly, and Joel was waiting for the snap.

Not even a minute later, you were coming violently undone against his tongue as he lapped away at you, helping you ride out your intense orgasm.

"Mm, babygirl, you taste so goddamn good." Joel moaned against you and then moved up, hovering over you again.

The whole bottom half of his face was coated in your arousal, and fuck was it a sight to see.

Joel moved one hand up to your face to cradle your cheek, dragging it down so the pad of his thumb tugged at your bottom lip.

"Open." He demanded, his voice intense and full of eroticism.

You immediately comply, opening your mouth while resting your tongue just before your bottom lip began. Joel smirked at you devilishly as he spit directly into your mouth. You immediately tasted yourself, and you looked up at him in astonishment.

"You kinky bastard." You put a hand on his chest, nails lightly scratching his skin as you trailed your hand down his torso. You gently grabbed his cock, which was more than ready for you once again, and Joel had to stifle a groan.

"Don't act like you don't fuckin' love it, baby." He moaned as he moved down to kiss you with such fervor, your lungs started to burn for air.

You lined him up with your still-slick entrance, and he pushed into you. You both moaned simultaneously into each other's mouths as Joel stretched you in the most perfect, pleasing way. No one's ever fucked you like he has, and god were you putty in his hands every single time.

His hips snapped against yours in a rapid, rhythmic matter, which elicited the most erotic sounds from your throat. You wrapped your legs around his waist, heels of your feet digging into the bottom of his back.

"Fuck, baby, I love you." His voice was strained and the southern drawl he had was ever so present.

"I-I-fuck- love you too, J-Joel." You could barely even think coherently as he was hitting that sweet spot inside you with every single thrust.

Joel fucking you roughly was exactly what you needed to release all the tension. You always looked forward to what came after as well, which was Joel being nothing but a sweetheart and giving you the best aftercare possible.

"You're so beautiful, babygirl. So beautiful, and all mine. I'm so lucky." Joel praised you, kissing you tenderly on your neck before moving his mouth to your breasts as he took his time adorning each of them.

Your heart melted at his words, falling even more in love with him.

"Joel, I'm close." Your voice is a desperate whisper, and he moved his hand down to rub your already overstimulated clit.

"Me too, baby, me too. C'mon. Give it to me." He coaxes, and the hot sensation coils inside you once more as you claw at his back in complete desperation. Instantaneously, pleasure washed over you once more as you moaned his name loudly, so fucking thankful that his windows were pretty soundproof.

Not that he'd give a fuck, but you'd think Mrs. Adler would tear you both a new one if she even heard the nasty things going on in Joel Miller's bedroom.

"Fuck, Joel, o-oh my god." Your hips ground against his, riding out your orgasm once more.

"Fuck, doll, where do you want me?" He asks as his hips lose their steady rhythm, stuttering once more. Always the telltale that he was about to find release himself.

"In me. Please." Your breathless reply drew a whimper from him as he found his release once more, only this time, you felt it in your core.

He collapsed on top of you, wrapping his strong arms around you as he pulled you close. He kissed the top of your head a couple of times before slowly pulling out of you.

You traced small patterns on his heaving chest and kissed him there once before looking up at him. You admired his handsome features while his eyes were closed, because you knew he'd give you shit for staring at him if he had his eyes open.

"You're starin' again." Joel huffed, opening his eyes to look down at you. Your eyes twinkled in delight as a lazy smile spread across your lips. He just knew you too damn well.

"I can't help it, baby, you're just so handsome." You move your hand up to brush his waves off of his forehead, which were coated in sweat.

He chuckled and shook his head as he moved to stand up, and you pouted at him once more.

"You and that damn pout, doll. You're going to be the death of me." He leaned down to kiss you once more before going into the bathroom to draw a bath and grab wet a washcloth to bring it back out so he could clean you up.

"That's never my intention, Mr. Miller. I only use it to get my way." You tease him, causing him to chuckle.

He helps you up gently, "What am I going to do with you?"

You shrug. "Help me relax some more, yeah?" You kiss him once and he leads you to the bathroom, settling behind you as you both get into the tub.

"Gladly."

[turbulentscrawl]

i haven't seen lots of edgar content lately,, maybe general hcs for edgar valden if you can? :D

👌

-Edgar is a tunnel-visioned, broken-hearted creator who spends most of his energy seeking out the meaning of life and a reason to live. After the death of his mother and sister, he gave up on fulfillment through love or friendship, and now appreciates the world only through his art. Otherwise, he is apathetic. He does remain cordial with people, though, like his mother taught him to be.

-Edgar is an observer in most senses of the word. He rarely cares to devote energy to conversation himself, so he watches and listens instead. He doesn’t have much remaining interest in participating in the ‘game’ that is society, or the subtle mind-games it requires, but he is intrigued by other people’s reactions to them. When he does interact with others, he expects it to be strait-laced. Anything else is a waste of his time. (In short, he’s nosey. He enjoys knowing all the gossip but very rarely spreads it himself.)

-In that same vein, if Edgar has a specific opinion on something, you know it’s because that something has inspired him in some way. Edgar is a Centrist and does not hold very strong views of political or social situations one way or the other. In general, he thinks it’s best to let people do what they want, so long as it doesn’t interfere with what he or anyone else wants.

-Since the betrayal of his master, he’s developed a strikingly low tolerance for interruptions and interference. Edgar’s artistic muse is the most important thing in life to him, and he’s already lost it once. He’s not willing to lose it again, and does not give a damn about what anyone else thinks about his methods of maintaining it.

-Edgar was used by people for so long for his artistic skills that he has a hard time connecting with anyone who’s first interest in him relates to that. Ironically, with time Edgar gets along well with people like Kevin, who was confrontational and distrusting of Edgar in the beginning. Kevin did not give a fuck about Edgar’s art, and disliked him for some entirely different principal. And his art neither salvaged Kevin’s opinion nor won him over when they were finally on neutral terms. People like that can be trusted to be genuine, as far as Edgar is concerned, and frankly Edgar doesn’t see conflict as a dealbreaker for friendships or relationships. Disagreements happen.

-He’s physically weak—this boy has never seen a day of recreational exercise in his life. He is, however, not squeamish or easily disgusted. He dislikes what he perceives as ugliness, but has no issues witnessing or interacting with dirt, grime, or gore. He’s also not easily frightened and tends to be one of the more level-headed survivors in matches. He holds a similar reverence to death as Aesop and isn’t afraid of dying in matches. Some little part of him wishes it could be permanent—as some final devotion to his art, his Swan Song.

-Edgar cross-dresses sometimes. He needs no particular reason for it, as far as he’s concerned, but if you must know it just comes down to ‘he likes what he likes.’ And he likes flowy skirts. He’s not the type to let the gender roles of a society he’s not even part of anymore dictate what he wears. Were he alive in a modern world, he may identity as Agender. He doesn’t care much about gender and just presents however he feels like on a given day.

-Outside of his art studio and bedroom, Edgar is terrible at keeping track of things. He’s blind to anything he sets down outside of those two spaces, it simply no longer exists to him. Other people in the manor are often returning his things to him (especially Joker, who has a knack for finding things without even knowing they were lost.)

-When he was younger, he was taught several other skills that were normal for young men of high class. Piano and dancing, for instance. he didn't like them enough to practice much after his mother died, but he's still decent at them.

-Edgar has commandeered several hallways of the manor to hang his art. He’ll probably take over more later—he’s got an eternity to make his art, after all.