#i mean they might surprise me! i hope so! but also. the production is cursed. like. extremely cursed.

[kindaeccentric]

I don't care if The Crow reboot turns out to be good or bad, but if it doesn't have My Chemical Romance write a song for it like The Cure did for the 1994 film there's literally no point of even releasing it

[crumblinggothicarchitecture]

Hey. This might be very stupid, but i hope you answer this.

Today I accidently got sucked into your blog, which is ironic since I'm a huge swiftie. (but I'm not here to hate on you, I swear)

The thing is for months I've been doubting where I stand on that. Like if i should call myself a swifte or not. when I was young, I used to worship the ground she walked on. but in the past year, I've slowly realised I've been very sheltered. like the problems people point out about her sometimes are actual real problems, but my brain just doesn't know how to respond to that as it has been taught taylor swift is a goddess and can do no wrong. Since your posts are tagged with #exswiftie, i figure you'd understand.

I am not from america, so I can understand then politics part of it all only to a certian extend. the other things, I just dont know what to say to that. The most i can reply is..."yes that is a bit of a problem". I feel don't feel like a swiftie at that moment.

I had fed my mind this narrative that people who hate taylor swift passionately are like untrustworthy or just a walking red flag, or just "don't get it". Now after reading your actual breakdowns I understand you have a rather educated opinion and perception of things. Which clearly rules out my narrative.

I don't know what I feel like I have to define where I stand on this, I just do. I know I genuinely enjoy her music a lot, even there are songs I don't want to hear more than once. I love the whole swiftie lore, digging deep on each lyrics finding out what they mean, finding clues easter eggs just losing my mind over surprise songs. Then i see this other side, which can't be defined with anything less than deeply toxic, which makes me question whether or not this thing i love so much is genuinely good or not.

Hello dear, apologies for the delay in reply :) I am happy to chat with you. I hope that you did not think I would ignore you.  

I was also a Swiftie for nearly 15 years. I got her debut record as a Christmas present in 2006 or 2007. Though I cannot remember which year it was, I loved her from the start. At 10 years old, I was immediately interested. My mother approved of me owning her music simply because she was inoffensive. She didn’t curse or talk about sex, in the beginning, so she was deemed appropriated for my childhood self.  She and I have since grown up. She is now a terribly pretentious bully- and, well, I grew up much too poor and much too hungry to turn into a bully like her. 

The problem- and something I think you’re very much aware of- is that Swift has built herself up in her fandom as perfect. She encourages fans to defend her every action- and rewards them for their efforts through “Swiftmas” or “Secret Sessions” or “hidden easter eggs that only the smartest- most dedicated fans will figure out.” It’s all methodically calculated to keep up an air of reciprocity between Swift, as the fearless leader, and her band of merry misfits- the fans.  

You are not dumb for falling into her rhetorical situation - she's set the marketing strategy up on purpose. It’s specifically created to attract attention- and, to make people feel good, or productive, by participating in her marketing strategy. She gives people an image of herself as a poor innocent victim of the media, or of any critique, and then rewards people for defending her. In Literary study, we call this “Pathos” as the rhetorical appeal to emotion through messaging- textual work of some kind. Rhetoric like this can be found in all sorts of media- commercials about starving children or beaten dogs, charity event banners aiming to persuade someone to donate. It’s all predicated on the appeal to our common emotion, or human capacity to empathize with each other. For, every time fans are rewarded by her attention- after defending her from a perceived enemy, or figuring out some hidden clue- they feel closer to the idol, they feel happy to have her attention. They get that emotional impact of believing they are helping Taylor Swift, or understanding her better on some more human, connected, level. It’s a game of risk and reward for her. Never mind that none of this altruistic- she gets paid through our attention on her- and if you are not directly lining her pockets with your cash money, she does not actually care about you. It’s the image of caring she projects that matters much more than the fact that she doesn’t actually care.

I’m sure you can think of many more examples wherein Swift has played this game of attention and reward with fans. It’s everywhere- her easter eggs are a great example. Sometimes her use of Pathos is benign- non malicious, therefore a non-issue. However, she often weaponizes this rhetoric in a way that is harmful.

This interplay she sets up, between herself and her fans, is made more intensive through her pathos- heavy approach to Rhetoric. To further illustrate, one of the ways people often explain Pathos is by saying that it represents our, as human beings, judgement affect. We see, or hear, the narrative Swift espouses and make judgements about it. If she says: The music critics are sexist towards me. We say: 1.) Sexism is morally wrong, 2.) Taylor Swift is facing sexism from Music critics, Therefore.) The music critics are sexist and morally wrong, because they are criticizing Taylor Swift.

So, all the critics are bad- and we don't need to listen to them. It's also a way Swift creates permissive attitudes towards attacking anyone who critique's her- because she can so easily label them all as sexist.

She uses this basic syllogism to justify leveraging her fans against all kinds of people- it's not just the critics. I just wanted to give a concrete example, and I will go more in depth on this subject in another post.  

She is playing with people’s emotions, while she is also self-victimizing,and leveraging her audience’s innate human rejection of, for instance, sexism as it offends our personal values. No one is saying that sexism isn't morally corrupt; however, Taylor Swift points to valid criticism and calls it sexism so that her audience will attack. People often have valid critique of Swift- She just doesn't want to face critique at all- ever. If people say her music is too self-centered- Swift says that is Sexism. If people say her music is boring- she calls it sexism. If people say her music is shallow and only centered are relationships- She calls it sexism. When, in reality, it's valid criticism that has nothing to do with her being a woman. Only ever writing songs about your own myopic, self-centered perception of interpersonal relationships is shallow. Her music is objectively boring, because it's derivative. Her music is completely self-centered- and she only admits to that when it benefits her, but when critics say it, she calls it sexism.

Please don’t think badly of yourself. I am not here to hate on you either- I was you. I am not here to hate on anyone at all- I just want to share how my own knowledge, and expertise, of rhetorical appeals and literary analysis can expose Taylor Swift. Swift relies on this rhetorical technique to thrive, she obfuscates the truth, schemes, and manipulates people into thinking her music is the best thing on Earth- or thinking that she is literally a Saint. Clearly- nothing on Earth is that perfect- So why does she need her fan base to consider her a genius, and a saint, so badly?

Personally, I have no problem admitting I have flaws. I think most sane people can admit to their flaws. It’s not a bad thing to have flaws. So why does Taylor Swift react to all criticism like it’s the worst thing on Earth. Why does she have a whole song about calling critics “mean/ and a liar/ and pathetic/ and alone in life” (“Mean” 2010). She has the nerve to call that song an “anti-bullying” song; yet, is it so clearly bullying that random critic who wrote a bad review about her concert one time in 2009? She really hated that guy- and all he was doing was his job. She called him a drunken loser for just doing his job. 

She's written so many songs about how all her critics are just stupid, morally corrupt, or sexist: "The Man" (2019), "Mean" (2010), "But Daddy I love Him" (2024), "New Romantics" (2014), "Shake it Off" (2014), "I know Places" (2014), "Anti-Hero" (2023), "Paris" (2023), "Blank Space" (2014), "I did something Bad" (2018), "Dancing with our hands tied" (2018). There are more songs wherein she carries this theme of "everyone is out to get me, and they all hate me for no good reason" but I think I've listed enough.

The general message is all over "Evermore" and "Folklore" too every time she calls the general public "Clowns" or "masqueraders"

It's just everywhere- her subtle devaluation of legitimate criticism. Trying to chalk it all up to the critics being simply dumb, sexist, or malicious in some way. Perhaps some people are mean- true- but to generalize every criticism as evil? That's just her actually playing a victim card. There's no way every single critic, or person who doesn't like her, is evil, bad, or malicious in some way. Okay?

I’m tired of her claiming to be an amazing person and an amazing poet- when she is just not either of those things. She’s not a kind person- it's all over her music in the ways she maliciously hurts people for fun. She’s not an amazing poet either. I have a few college degrees- and one pass through her work, with a serious intention of literary analysis, I discover that her writing is plain, banal, and derivative. 

She wants everyone to compare her to Emily Dickinson, Dylan Thomas, and Shakespeare. So, I’m doing what she wants and taking her work seriously enough to critique it. Except that, in critique, I find out why it’s all poorly written- and why it’s just a bunch of thinly veiled conservative iterations of the same boring message over and over. All she ever says in her music is “poor me” and “I hate” (insert person- Kim K., Kanye, Matty, Joe, Jake, John, Scooter, Scott, Harry, Calvin, the media at large, anyone who critiques her, and men in the music industry as a whole). She has the longest list of enemies I think I’ve ever seen- and the funny thing is that all these people avoid her at all costs. None of these people talk about her- yet she is still singing, writing songs, and getting her fans to post memes about how awful they are years, even decades, later.  

It all gets a bit tiresome? No? Personally, I don’t wish to live a life full of such self-pity and hatred- so why should I listen to it in music form? Ya know?  

In my posts, I am attempting to find the truth. I don’t want to “hate” on anyone or anything- but I am going to seek truth in her work.  

I will be posting more about how she devoids Shakespeare of his social reformist efforts. I’m going to post more about how she twists the meaning of every literary reference she’s ever made. I am not kidding, she has misrepresented, and misinterpreted every single literary reference in her entire discography. It’s astounding how hard Swift tries to sound thoughtful- without actually being thoughtful. I will be posting about how she only ever name-drops to either tear other people down or self-depreciate herself in effort to seek pity. I will be talking more about her use of rhetorical appeals to both attract an audience, keep their attention through risk-reward trade-off, and manipulate them into fighting her battles for her. I will be talking about how she upholds a bunch of harmful stereotypes in her music. She often alludes, or blatantly includes allusion to colonialist attitudes. She’s used the LGBT community for profit without making any real activist efforts. She’s leveraged feminism like a weapon against other women- yet never actually has feminist themes in her music. She’s just so painfully hollow- upon closer inspection.  

I don’t hate her as a person. I think she’s unethical, sure, but that doesn’t mean I hate her, want her to die, or anything extreme at all. I would never wish harm to another human being. In fact, after seeing a lot of the harmful stuff in her music, especially about her kind of fucked up views on relationships, I sincerely hope she gets some professional help and finds some peace in this world. When I critique Taylor Swift it’s about her work and her brand- It's not about her personhood.  

I just think that no one Earth is above reproach, or critique, and we must all be held accountable for our own actions. She’s the one that puts her work out there for people- It's therefore completely appropriate for me to discuss her work. 

Edit: Oh and I want to add- I wish you luck in figuring out what you really think about Taylor Swift. If you ever need to talk or vent more- my inbox is always open. :) With peace and love- bye bye

[acourtofthought]

Speaking of longing......

SJM uses the word to convey true desire and emotion between possible love interests:

Rhys looked up, meeting my gaze. And whatever was on my face—I think it might have been mirrored on his: the hunger and longing and surprise.

Longing is not just sexual desire (evidenced in the above and below):

His wings flared, chest heaving as stars sparked in his eyes. And it was the longing there—beneath the desire, beneath the need—it was the longing in those beautiful eyes that made me glance to the mountains tattooed on his knees.

She writes hunger AND longing, longing BENEATH the desire and need. Longing always stands apart from the sexual feelings.

I wondered why no one had yet mentioned what now shone in Cassian’s eyes as he gazed at my sister. The sorrow. And the longing.

This is further proven when she says the following in regards to Nesta and Eris:

And then he turned toward the other subject in his letter, facing Nesta before he asked, “And my offer for you?” Not one ounce of affection or longing laced his words.

She's sure to make it known that Eris’s offer to Nesta does not come from a place of genuine emotion.

Elucien hasn't been ready to knock down the walls between them.

“Stay out of it. She’s not ready, and neither is he, no matter how many presents he brings.” I lifted a brow. “Snoop.” Mor leaned back against the steps, utterly unrepentant. “Let him live with his Band of Exiles. Let him deal with Tamlin in his own way. Let him figure out where he wants to be. Who he wants to be. The same goes with her.”

But that doesn't mean there aren't real feelings that exist:

I think so. It wasn’t just about what he thought—it was the … feeling. I sensed no ill will, no conniving. Only concern for her. And … sorrow. Longing.

Lucien inclined his head in a bow, the movement hiding the gleam in his eye—the longing and sadness.

Cassian’s heart strained at the pain etching deep into Lucien’s face as he tried to hide his disappointment and longing.

Rhys longed for Feyre and ended up with his mate.

Cassian longed for Nesta after she pushed him away in ACOMAF / ACOWAR and before ACOSF when she pushed him away again but he still ended up with his mate.

No one disputed that what they felt for the sisters was genuine despite knowing or suspecting a bond existed, even when the timing wasn't right for the females.

Longing doesn't necessarily equal love (yet) but it does point at something authentic. SJM is fairly obvious when real feelings are involved and not just ones of lust. She's also pretty obvious when a possible relationship exists for the right reasons.

Tamlin and Feyre's relationship came about because he knew he needed to make a human fall in love with him to break his curse. I think he eventually had real feelings for her (though not necessarily healthy ones) but it was initially forced out of necessity.

Chaol, much as he did love her, struggled to accept the different sides of Celaena which Dorian calls him out on.

Dorian and Celaena seemed to have a genuine attraction and affection for one another, they even had shared interests. However their relationship was wrong, what with her being the Kings assassin and him being the Crown Prince. She wasn't willing to have a forbidden relationship because forbidden isn't healthy and typically ends poorly in these books.

Look at the LoA and Helion. They attempted to have a forbidden relationship and that had a poor outcome. As a product of that relationship, not only did it lead to Lucien's abuse for his entire life but the LoA's abuse as well.

I have hope that the LoA and Helion will eventually reconnect but it's not going to happen so long as they remain forbidden.

Azriel's interest in Elain came about as she first gave him a reason to feel useful (damsel in distress in need of saving) then because he started thinking on how his two brothers are with her sisters so why wasn't he also given a bond within the same circle? Especially once he realized he may actually have to let go of Mor and Elain got him a gift while not getting Lucien one (Nesta never got Cassian a gift yet they ended up together, just saying).

But their "relationship" doesn't read as healthy. He doesn't support Elain's desire to do more, he barely even talks to her and when he does the conversation is shallow at best. Not to mention, tiptoeing around and hiding their interest from friends and family and Azriel's disrespect towards an ally are all unhealthy tropes within the world of SJM. The E/riel setup reads as problematic compared to SJMs other endgame couples especially because Elain has been fairly open towards the possibility of them which is different than the start of Feysand and Nessian since the sisters closed themselves off from the brothers, refusing to know them.

Lucien wasn't interested in emotional connections when the mating bond with Elain snapped. Evidence shows he spent centuries not believing it possible ever again as he remained emotionally committed to Jesminda. And while I don't think he feels something for Elain because of the mating bond, I think nothing short of the mating bond was ever going to have him open himself up to the thought of another female. He thought he lost his mate therefore no one else could break him of the hold Jesminda had over his heart except for his actual mate.

But he did not have longing for Elain until he actually had a conversation with her. He said he wanted to meet her just once to know if she was worth fighting for (as he had yet to truly interact with her and knew she was engaged) yet nearly two years later, it is Elain he still longs for.

Again, SJM doesn't use the word longing in this series unless it's attached to genuine feelings.

That Az has never been noted as longing for Elain while Lucien does on multiple occasions is noteworthy. People claim Azriel knows Elain because he put a name to her power but that's not knowing Elain. There are no examples in the book of Az truly knowing her as a person. He gave her TT but Elain doesn't like violence or cruelty. It was a necessity that Elain armed herself but nothing about that scene had anything to do with him knowing her, she wouldn't even take the knife until Feyre assured her she wouldn't need to use it. Mor and Lucien, not Az, were the ones who made it possible for someone to carry out Elain's vision of finding Vassa. Elain spent months being depressed where Az offered no suggestions for her healing while Lucien is the first character who insisted that they get her outside. Az was relieved not to get Elain a Solstice gift the first year, shouldn't he have wanted to if he knew her so well? And Amren, not Az stood up for Elain and her right to do more. Amren, not Az, was the one who forced them to see that Elain was capable.

The current Elucien setup is in line with so many other of SJMs endgame couples while still being unique to their personalities and the way the bond came about. Regardless of their current stalemate (an Archeron speciality), they have similar values, similar temperaments, and similar personal struggles. There is a mating bond and there is longing and if you pay any attention at all to SJMs preferences, that's the formula for an endgame couple.

[txfeline720]

Title: Merch woes

Summary: In which Prowl has to deal with abhorrent (in his opinion) merch of himself. Among other things.

Characters: Prowl, Jazz

Warnings: None.

Note: Thought I post one of my fics here. You can find also find it on my Archive of our own and Fanfiction accounts.

---

If there had ever been a time Prowl wished he had laser vision, now would have been great. Perhaps if he glared hard enough, he'd develop the ability through sheer force of will and disintegrate the object that sat ever so innocently on his desk. He hopes so. Logic can go hang itself.

"Not gonna lie," Jazz said, gazing curiously at the thing that managed to earn Prowl's full ire. "I'm kind of surprised they even thought you were marketable. Out of all the mechs here, Bumblebee seems to be the most fit for it." He then smiled. "They got the doorwings right. I'll give them that."

"That is beside the point," Prowl growled. Jazz raised a brow in surprise. Even at his angriest, Prowl wore a mask of restraint, allowing only slivers of his emotions to show in the twitch of his doorwings or the glow of his optics. This was a new development.

"It is completely undignifying and frankly exploitive." He made a vague motion towards it in digest. "I have not, in any shape or form, consented for this...thing, to wear my face."

To describe the said thing, it was ball-shaped and covered in a soft, fluffy white material that resembled a cotton ball having a bad hair day. It was what was attached to it that riled Prowl up. On the front was a head molded to his likeness. Red-horned and scowling. In the back were familiar black and white doorwings, and on the bottom were black flat pads that were supposed to be feet, keeping the fluffy nightmare upright.

"They definitely got the expression down," Jazz laughed.

Cold optics slowly turned to glare at him, hoping to freeze him with their stare alone.

Jazz held up his hands in defense. "I'm just making an observation," he said smoothly.

With a huff, the optics turned their sights back to the accursed pom-pom.

"So, how did you get a hold of one?" Jazz asked.

"I didn't. I opened my door to leave, and there it was, standing there with a note that said, 'They got the look right.' I was then I looked it up and found that some human companies came up with the idea to make stuff with our image, mostly Bumblebee's for some reason." 'Mostly' was an understatement. Mugs, t-shirts, toys for human sparklings, and, for some reason, pillows that were long in length with Bumblebee printed on them in various laying positions. Try as he might, Prowl could not figure out the last one.

Jazz knew. But he wasn't going to say anything, thank you.

"You know," Jazz said. "This could benefit us if you happen to think about it."

In spite of himself, Prowl looked at him with curiosity gleaming through the rock-hard ice in his optics. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you said no one asked you, or to your knowledge, any Autobot to be merchandised, right?"

Prowl nodded in affirmation.

"So, we sue them. But we don't demand that they stop production; we demand a share of the profits that they get. You catch my drift?"

Prowl did catch it, rather reluctantly. "Gain some currency for our use. Financial independence." He sighed, doorwings sagging in defeat. Curse logic. "Fair point. But I am going to firmly insist that all merchandise with my image cease all productions." With that, he started scheduling a meeting with Optimus and the other high rankings to discuss the matter further while simultaneously looking up the best lawyers to hire for the upcoming court battles.

"Great. See you around then," Jazz said, walking towards the door. "Let me know when the meeting is."

"Alright," Prowl said. He had turned away from his desk for a minute, but when he looked back, the scowling puff ball was gone.

"Jazz."

Jazz quickened his pace.

"Jazz!"

"Oh my, would you look at the time? Gotta go." Through the power of cartoon physics, Jazz became a streak of black and white and bolted out of the office, away from the red-horned bull bellowing colorful threats as he charged after Jazz through the halls.

Did Jazz have a death wish? Maybe. But he was going to be scraped before he gave up Little Poofy Prowler anytime soon.

---

Note: The design of the toy was inspired by the drawings of @mattinthehat

[justatalkingface]

What are your thoughts about One For All?

By that, I mean the power itself, the story surrounding it, the connections to All For One, the person, all of it. You spoke extensively about Izuku and now I'd like to hear your thoughts about his quirk. Yoichi Shigaraki seemed very suspicious, and his quirk being a death curse at first seemed like it was setting up for a really morally ambiguous OFA. But it turns out the guy's a saint and he's trying to take down the devil. As far as I can tell, One For All kills people just to justify Izuku being the current holder and to make him special. We also got the typical shōnen power escalation of Izuku ending up with a bunch of new powers out of nowhere. Many of which seemed to exist just to have him surpass All Might quickly enough so he could handle fights against super powerful foes, because this series takes places within a year. The story rushed this dude's development, so his powers had to rush him to where he could handle things. And he also became a genius who could master a bunch of new quirks in a very short amount of time. Many of the abilities felt very redundant with his power set or go mostly unused, such as smokescreen. Float and Black Whip were cool and added a lot to Izuku's kit. The OFA vs AFO plot line eventually took over the series. I prefer the battles against AFO's forces in comparison to the earlier parts of the series, where the kids fought each other in battles with no stakes. The academia part of MHA was always the weakest part, but some people preferred it. What do you think?

One For All... well, let me get this almost mandatory part out of the way: he suffers for being introducing during The War Arc, and by dint of it means we'll probably never have a satisfying amount of information on him.

Quirk wise... it actually tracks? If family Quirks are similar, both AFO and OFA both, then, have a Quirk that is based around 'transfering Quirks', the same way that Asu's family all have Quirks based around frogs, yet they are all expressed in different ways.

I've seen people argue that the mysterious door he's helping hide is AFO, since the stockpiling Quirk passed through AFO himself first.

I just, let me.... alright. Honestly? I could see it. I really wouldn't be that surprised at this point if they did that. Logically? That makes no sense. The power stockpiling Quirk was just that, stockpiling power. It was only special when it got fused with OFA's nameless Quirk, and they fused into something more, a Quirk that is apparently specialized to act as a mental arc, in his body. Moreover, it should mean that AFO would have a Vestige there, and I just... really hope they don't do that, because I can't see a way it ends well, you know?

More recently, I'm wondering if that BIg Mystery they're clearly hiding has to do with why AFO was crying when he was killing(?) the Second; did The Second kill OFA? Was that a revenge kill? Did OFA plan that? Did he go, 'My brother is too powerful to stop, so we must sacrifice ourselves until someone is strong enough to do so, and act as fertilizer for their eventual rise' and that's why the first couple of generations are edgy and the later ones, who didn't get that memo, or who were thought to be that theoretic final product, are more open?

I... could see that. It's not something I think would be done well, with MHA as it is now, but I could see that.

Really though, when you think about it the fact that each of them have suicidally went up against AFO in his prime means that there's no way that OFA should have been able to be transferred throughout the generations, because AFO has so much stacked in his favor that he should have easily been able to hunt them down and kill them (and when does he even realize they have that Quirk? Early on, especially, it couldn't have been easy, with how weak it was; it'd probably be easier to identify it based off behavior more than power).

The thing I've realized about OFA is that the early lore for it is really kind of questionable, just because they explicitly went up against AFO with barely any power ups, which is basiclly suicide. Even if AFO wanted them alive to keep the Quirk alive (and why? Before his 'development' you could argue it's because he wanted his brother back, and thus his Vestige in it, and later it's a strong Quirk, but there's a good period where it was a Quirk with potential, not power, and AFO has been developed into a two dimensional caricature who would kill for the lulz, who has no depth or moral attachment to anything. Before his 'development' you could argue that he wanted even a small part of his brother back, and it would explain things, but now? Was he just... letting it live to refine it so he could steal it when it was strong? It'd fit with how everything is AFO's fault these days), it would be dead ass easy for him to capture the current Holder and then keep them imprisoned, maybe after crippling them, until he can get what he wants from them.

The fact it's kind of incompatible with a person with a Quirk... kind of tracks, since, you know, Nomu, but if this was always a thing, under that logic everyone who wasn't Quirkless with this thing should have rendered brain damaged like, you know, the Nomu. The fact that they kind of... fall apart? That feels like bullshit. It has the energy of trying to make Izuku a True Destined Hero in a True Shonen by making him the only one who could use it safely, instead of, you know, just being chosen on his heroic merits, and goes blatantly against the themes the manga was talking about from the start, that everyone can be a hero. Because 'men aren't born equal' is wrong, and even a Quirkless kid can be heroic, can save someone. But, you know... Everything Changed When The War Arc Attacked. I'm not surprised it got fucked up.

May be a little off topic, but I'll point out since AFO has vestiges now (suddenly), that that's going to be important for whatever end game there is, and, you know, that's going to be bullshit, since OFA only has those from a Quirk that was specialized in making them, and even then they only started communicating with him at the War Arc, after generations of that one Quirk being powered up to allow it to happen. Meanwhile, AFO just takes the Quirks, and even if Quirks keep, well, a vestige of their former owner, why did it take so long to happen if it was just a thing that happened when you moved Quirks? Why didn't any OFA user before Izuku have this happen? Why aren't the Nomu filled with the traumatic impulses of their parts; not the main body, but the minds of however many extra Quirks are stuffed inside them? There's no reason for that logic to apply to AFO, since he just takes them, but... yeah. ECWTWAA.

....So, is the reason he's such a two-dimensional character is that he can't get a good night's sleep because god knows how many people are just constantly screaming at him, in a ironic own goal on their part that is making him more and more evil as he slowly loses his mind over the years, doing more and more terrible things they don't want him to? Or is that just me putting more work in AFO's characterization that Hori has actually done?

You want to know my prediction? That was introduced as the way to beat him, in the end: Izuku and OFA are going to lead a revolution in AFO's body/mind and purge him, or... something stupid to beat his mind once and for all, since AFO is apparently studying Orochimaru style immortality and we're reaching a point where killing any one body, and maybe even both, won't be enough to kill him, so they have to go deeper to finish him!

Which totally makes sense.

SIgh.

On the Vestiges, and the powers? In theory, I'm fine with it, Hori clearly was hinting about them way back when, but in practice the way that's been handled is ass. Either A, these guys all have buttons to unlock their Quirks, in which case there should have been a Team Meeting with Izuku rather than him randomly shooting out combat tentacles out of nowhere, when he could have killed someone with them, just like... you're in a fight; surprise super powers! What could go wrong, or B, it just happens, in which case them making noises about proving himself or whatever sounds... dumb when what they think about the situation has nothing to do with it.

More than that, though, the way they're being used to power up Izuku? The way that they're just his Stands now, more than actual characters? Only showing up behind him to show how serious Izuku is? The sheer fucking disrespect of it irks me; Hori, if you're going to introduce actual characters who are people, then treat them like people. If you just want to give Izuku powers, don't give him a mindscape full of people with opinions, just give him powers. One or the other Hori; you can just give Izuku a weird Animus style flashback without a personality you actually need to manage being attached.

On the powers themselves, it's clearly something that got dropped on the wayside. Black Whip, obviously, is Hori's favored child, lovingly used at every possible chance and drawn out in great detail (I hear he really likes Spiderman?) but after that? The first couple were utility skills, chosen to give Izuku some soft support while he wandered on his own without readily available support tech, beyond those.... Hori just used them as crutches to skip over all the development Izuku never had the time to do to master AFO itself. No matter how they phrase it, no matter how complicated they make the explanation, they're just there so he can punch harder.

As a person, it's hard to tell much about OFA. He has morals, he opposes his brother, he's keeping secrets from Izuku.... let's be honest here, he's more of a plot device than a human being at this point, and I have zero faith in his future development. It's kind of frustrating since there's a lot of interesting potential there (is he a Good Guy(TM)? Did AFO just go too far, and before that he was fine with his brother the warlord? Was he cowardly like Izuku, but also went through character development once he gained the ability to stand up for himself? There's a lot of ways his characterization could be spun, but that has more to do with his lack of characterization than anything) that I'm sure he'll never live up to than anything.

Beyond that... there's this symbolism with hands that keeps coming up. Shigaraki has it, of course, that's mostly his trauma being expressed with his hand based Quirk (and strengthened by AFO using hands to condition him, actually...), to the point where it became his theme. Later on, though, when they started expanding on AFO and OFA mentally, there's thing where both of them are reaching out to people, with this focus on their hands. Both of them do it, and it's always drawn in this ominous sort of way, even for OFA, the apparent good guy. Sometimes, usually (or only?) for AFO (who also has a Quirk focused around his hands; it's not surprising his mind would orient around that to some extent) it's even the only thing we see of their mental silhouettes. It's... very interesting to me, and makes me think there was probably going to be more to him at some point, that there was going to be some, any, depth to his character.

On the academia part, here's the thing: compared to later on, the early stuff was better, not on the merits of school vs fighting, but because early on, even with its flaws, it's clearly something Hori put a lot thought into, had a plan. The later stuff? Well, there's some sort of plan, but the later we get in the timeline, the more it feels like Hori is backpedaling from some original concept, and changing it to something else as we go along. And in itself, his ideas changing isn't a bad thing, but those changes are still built off the foundation of his older plans, and it leaves more and more plot points hanging out in the wind, without proper support. If this manga was a house, the higher Hori built it, the more floors he added, the more he started shifting the house to one side, while everything he had already built stayed where it was. That's not how you get a solid house, and no matter how much fancier those higher floor may look, it doesn't make up for the fact that it's only barely staying in place.

At the same time though, it's clear that, for all that this series is called My Hero Academia, the actual school part of it is something Hori doesn't seem to be all that interested in, or have put thought into. UA, narratively, isn't a school, it's an excuse, and the times when Hori puts in things like class presidents, or normal, actually academic tests and the like, it's because he has to put them in, and so it's understandable when you look at the actual school parts of this 'school', it feels awkward and out of place.

When people talk about liking it, it was probably less, 'Man, Izuku and friends in school, doing school things, was great' (though, there are are probably plenty of those as well, to be fair; again, My Hero Academia; it's not surprising to see interest in that school setting promised in the actual title) and more that, 'Wow, it was nice to focus on Izuku and the main cast we were introduced to from the beginning, and watch them actually talk to each other and interact!', since the farther we got into the actual hero stuff, the less we had of all that, and of all the characters we got attached to originally, when we first started the story.

[missnight0wl]

Just for fun. How about a character tier of R and former R members?

Duncan Olivia Real!Jacob The fugly slut that's pretending to be our brother Shiratori Rakepick Burke Pettigrew Verruca Merula Peregrine

(do tell me if I forgot about someone)

This is mine. HBU?

I absolutely love that the top tier is just “Rakepick” 💖

Also, I couldn’t resist the urge to separate it into two lists as I didn’t know how to approach the “Pawn” tier. See, the thing is that I don’t think it’s necessarily connected to being powerful… Therefore, I decided on “How powerful they are?” and “How important they are for R?”.

Oh, and I added Zenith Xeep. I believe she was involved with R only for that one thing with the Memory Potion (and probably didn’t even know much about what’s going on), but still.

“How powerful they are?”

“How important they are for R?”

Some commentary under the cut.

I actually believe that Verucca is pretty damn powerful, and I do think that she's pretty much equal with Rakepick and Peregrine. I even wouldn't be surprised if Peregrine is above her not because he's more powerful, but because he is The Father of the siblings.

Reall!Jacob has to be pretty powerful as well, and I'm thinking here mostly about the scene where Rakepick told MC in the fourth year: "You remind me of myself. I have only said that to one person before...". That one person was probably Jacob (full analysis in this post). And come on, if Rakepick compares anyone to herself, they must be quite impressive.

I also put Shiratori higher in the ranking. Jam City did him pretty dirty later on, and currently, I don't think he's that powerful (even if he's apparently a powerful Legilimens). But I remembered when he escaped in Y6. Moody told us then that he defeated his best Aurors, so... I have to acknowledge that he was meant to be way more powerful.

I can agree on Olivia but I think that Duncan was pretty good, too. For example, Bilton told us that he used to reconstruct his products entirely. I mean, you need some decent level of magical prowess for that.

Surprisingly, I do believe that Fugly Slut is decently powerful, simply because I doubt that R would send someone weak for such an important mission. On top of that, I still think there's a small chance that he's actually Verucca, so...

As for Merula... I might not like her, and I do think that she's terribly written, but... she's not weak. It's mostly her personality that stops her from being really powerful.

Pettigrew is a disgusting human being, but again, he is pretty powerful. He did become an Animagus, he killed 12 Muggles with one non-verbal, he outsmarted the whole wizarding world, and he played a rather big part in bringing back Voldemort himself.

Burke... I mean, he can't be totally weak if he worked as a Healer for so many years, right? Also, he kind of kicked Moody's ass... But I don't know. I'd say he's alright overall, maybe just not very experienced in combat.

Finally, I'm afraid that she was rather weak even before her accident. I mean, she was an opera diva for her whole life. In the best-case scenario, she was extremely out of practice.

Now, I put Rakepick in the "Crucial for their existence" tier simply because of how obsessed R is with her. Like, it's still not known when they started sending her threats to stay away from the Cursed Vaults, the Red Cloak talked about her again. Seriously, it's not healthy.

*insert the image of Patty as Regina George with the caption: "Why are you so obsessed with me?"*

Real!Jacob and his importance are rather obvious.

Verucca mentioned once that they had high hopes for Shiratori because of his lineage, so I assume he had to be pretty important, even if he became redundant. Plus, we have his Legilimency. Silimar argument actually applies to Fugly Slut. I assume that he was chosen for this task for some reason. His skills, perhaps? I mean, I still think it'd make the most sense if he was a Metamorphmagus as the Polyjuice Potion can be pretty risky.

In the "Pawn" tier, I put basically anyone who might be useful somehow, but if something happens to them, it's not a big loss. They're not necessarily entirely equal, but... yeah.

Finally, we have Pettigrew because I still refuse to accept his existence in this story. I'd like to know what kind of drugs you have to take to decide it's a good idea.

[thankyoumskobayashi]

movies i would only watch if the script retained the plot and structure and spirit of the original novel and that were filmed by a small indie practical effects studio with a penchant for historical accuracy:

castaways of the flying dutchman (spoilers and details below)

im talking like the puzzles and riddles are exactly the same. the old sailor’s surprise upon hearing “flying dutchman” from this young kid’s mouth. ned can get voicedubbed over but only by a talented voice actor. ned as a character needs to have a voice range from frolicking with ben to growling at people with malintent. and his voice shouldn’t overshadow but instead enhance the animal training of his doggy actor!

ben can also get dubbed over but only when he’s thinking to ned

the dream sequences of the angel and the ship can be artistic expression, and we should be able to see their obvious relief when they realize the town doesn’t have a bell. i want the old-timey horses and people walking around on dusty old roads and the ladies on rocking chairs discussing the town’s troubles. and i also want the sweetest old lady to play winnie!!!!!!!!!!! i want her cat to be a chonker and i want to see the whole town in its daily life while watching them solve the puzzles and find that deed.

since pirates and pirate media is making a resurgence i hope someone could give this same level of detail to this incredible book by brian jacques, but only if they respect the original story and don’t fuck too much with the plot. don’t add random romances! the curse means ben and ned can’t stay too long in one place so ben doesn’t even consider it at first! i’d be fine if you started the movie after they washed ashore and added the ship scenes with vanderdecken in nightmare flashbacks, but other fans might not care for that and would prefer the original order. let me know which one you’d prefer to see.

i’d love to see this movie if this level of quality was put into its production

[seraphinitegames]

The Wayhaven Chronicles—Update 03/Dec/2021

Seriously, Autumn and Winter are totally my time of the year! :D I've got so much done recently and seeing my checklist with so many ticks is even more motivating!

Social media days were great fun! But the first version of Chapter Ten was going sooooo well, that it did cut into the social media days a little. But my goal for this week was to finish the first version of Chapter Ten....and I'm going to do it by the end of today!!!

It's actually a more action-based chapter, so things have been quicker to write. There's not too much dialogue after the initial 'who's gonna side with who?' moment, which helps ease things :D A few moments during these scenes just seriously got me going so much though. I actually turned to Nai at one point and was like, 'Aahhh!! I'm loving this!' lol!

So it was a pretty packed week, but a majorly productive one. Next week, I hope to try and finish the other version of Chapter Ten, or at least get it mostly done.

That would be pretty huge and also put me ahead of schedule! As is probably obvious, I want Book Three to be out next year, so anything that can push me ahead makes me very, very happy!

A few people have asked about The Curse of Creek Edge. I don't post too much about progress on that as it's a slow, 'when I have time' personal project, but it is coming along. I've made some big leaps recently, and it'll be nice to start the actual writing on the demo portion now that the art is almost finished. I haven't done the CGs yet, but they're much easier to add in after the writing is done. I'll start posting proper progress reports on that after the demo is released.

To finish off, I have the dates for the Patreon Agency Party Christmas specials:

9th December: "I'll Leave that as a Surprise…."—An old friend reveals a little more than they were supposed to about the charming Second-in-Command (Nate/Nat special)

16th December: ''It's Fun to Enjoy the Mystery"—Someone's flirtation with the Detective leads to Adam/Ava getting a dose of realisation and honesty (Adam/Ava special)

23rd December: 'Absolutely Besotted'—A familiar face gives a surprising statement about the odds on this relationship (Felix/Farah special)

30th December: "Jealousy Doesn't Suit You…" Just what the Detective might mean to Mason/Morgan comes from an unexpected source (Mason/Morgan special)

The Patreon Christmas specials were longer than I planned, hence the short summaries this time along with the titles...I got a bit carried away with them, hehe! :D But I got to introduce or bring back some characters that I love, so I couldn't help myself!

Hope you guys have an amazing weekend! We'll be offline as usual, so I'll talk to you all soon! <3

[itsdanii]

Kyahhh your rejecting you and regretting series is just so freaking good . Uhmmm idk if you are taking requests right now but can I please request for Ushijima and Kita?Thank you so much!

Rejecting you and regretting it pt. 4

one | two | three | four

Hey, bub. I'm so glad to hear that you've been enjoying my works. Here's your request for the part 4 and final (as of now) part of the rejecting and regretting you series. Have a good day and stay hydrated! ♥️

genre: angst to fluff

warnings: semi-rude behavior (resolved), no cursing in this one because these men drink their respect women juice daily

ft. ushijima wakatoshi, kita shinsuke

title says it all

Kita Shinsuke

Kita is your childhood friend

The moment the two of you were introduced to each other by your grandmothers, you instantly clicked

Same as through with him, you loved spending your time being productive and following a certain routine so it's no question that as you both grew up, you started gaining romantic feelings towards him

You've been thinking of confessing but never really had the chance because he was always busy with volleyball practice

So when you finally managed to get some alone time, you didn't hesitate to voice out your feelings, not knowing that the answer you're hoping for isn't the answer you're going to get

"You're staring again."

You snapped out of your thoughts when Kita stopped infront of you, his eyebrows furrowing as he studied your face.

"Are you alright?"

"Oh, uh, yes! I'm sorry. I was just thinking," you answered sheepishly while scratching the back of your head.

You mentally cursed yourself for spacing out on him. This is the only chance you're getting and you can't afford to waste it.

"About what?" Shinsuke asked as you both continued your walk on the way home since you only live apart each other. Plus, his grandma had always told him to never let you walk home alone especially at night.

"Huh?"

"You said you were thinking. About what?" Shinsuke gently tugged at the sleeve of your jacket, changing your positions so that he was closer to the road than you are.

You felt yourself blushing at the small gesture and looked at his hand that was still holding your jacket.

You swallowed the lump forming inside your throat and stopped walking, the act stopping Kita as well due to him holding you.

Kita looked at you worriedly and placed both hands on your shoulders, his head dipping slightly to get a closer look at your face. "Are you oka-"

"You," you answered without focusing your gaze to him. "I've been thinking about you."

When you felt him taking his hands off your shoulders, you immediately looked up. "Sorry, did I make you uncomfortable?"

The look he had is something you can't decipher but if you were to analyze it based on what you can see, it's a look you never wanted to see again.

Silence reigned the two of you, eyes staring at each other as if you're both trying to figure out what the other was thinking.

"No," Kita said, breaking the silence. "But it's best if we don't discuss the issue any further."

At that, he faced forward and continued walking as if nothing happened but as you stared at his back, you realized that somehow, he knew what you were trying to imply.

And the sad part is that he chose to ignore it and act unbothered as if he didn't just indirectly broke your heart.

Once you reached your destination, you faced him with an anxious smile and Kita didn't fail to notice this, as well as your habit of shifting from foot to foot whenever you wanted to say something.

"I like you, Shin," you blurted out nervously, your heart beating erratically and your palms becoming sweaty. "I don't know when it started but suddenly, I just woke up and realized that what I'm feeling towards you is no longer within the range of friendship. It's something more and I just wanted to let you know."

"I am well aware of that but I'm sorry, y/n. I can't return your feelings."

You bit your lower lip to hold in your tears and as much as you wanted to shout at him to accept your confession, you can't just force someone to love you back because it doesn’t work that way.

"Geez, can't you even say it gently?" you said with a forced chuckle. "Don't worry, I won't hold any grudges."

You let out a sigh before looking up at him and Kita was surprised to see that there are no traces of anger. He expected you to lash out but it seemed like he was wrong.

"I'll see you tomorrow then. Don't overwork yourself, okay?" With that, you stood on your tiptoes and pressed a kiss on his cheek before turning around to cross the road.

Kita could only stare at you as he watched you enter your household, your figure vanishing from his sight as the door finally closed.

Kita is a practical man.

He knows how to separate what is right from what is wrong.

Because of this, people often see him as someone who's perfect, sometimes even being compared to a robot due to his nature. But Kita is far from perfect, and he knew that.

Because as he laid in his bed that night, he realized that he just made a big, wrong decision, and he had nobody but himself to blame.

-

Kita didn't know if he should be happy or not. Actually, he should be happy. After all, he just rejected you and still, here you are, walking beside him as you made your way to school.

He kept glancing at you, observing wether you were pretending or not but he knew that it isn't in your nature to be a pretentious person. You've always worn your emotions on your sleeve which made it too easy for people to read you.

"Ah, Shin. You don't have to walk me home later," you said with a sheepish smile. "My friend is actually going to walk me home so.."

"Alright. Be sure to send me a message when you're on the way home." Despite how 'normal' it sounded, Kita was actually feeling something unpleasant inside him. It was a feeling he was well aware of but had never experienced himself.

The day progressed fast. One moment, he was entering his first class and the next, he's already checking wether all the sports equipment were put back in their proper places.

As he walked out of the gym, Kita instinctively brought out his phone to check for any messages, yours to be specific.

"Ya alright, Kita-san?" came Atsumu.

Kita simply nodded and glanced at his phone again before keeping it, disappointment filling him as he realized that you're not planning to message him at all.

Without you to walk home with, Kita decided to join his team mates, yet despite the noise his team naturally carried, Kita's mind was still preoccupied.

He thought of how you must be doing or if you arrived home safely. He thought of how different the things would've turned out if he hadn't rejected you.

He thought of you.

"Isn't that y/n-san?"

Kita's attention immediately went back to Earth, his eyes following the direction Atsumu was pointing at and just like he said, you were indeed at the other side of the road, walking alone while hugging yourself as you shivered ever so slightly.

Without any words, Kita headed towards your direction and his team mates knew better than to interfere. After all, they knew their captain well. It wasn't that hard to notice how off he was today.

"I thought I told you to message me."

You gasped as Kita suddenly appeared beside you, draping his jacket over your shoulder which immediately surrounded you with his familiar scent.

"Sorry, I forgot," you said while tugging at the end of his jacket sleeves.

"Mhm, and you also said that your friend is going to walk you home yet I don't see anyone beside you." Kita said with a serious tone.

"About that..." You scratched the back of your head as you tried to think of any excuses but you knew that lying would be pointless.

"What if someone kidnapped you? Or worse, took advantage of you? You know I don't like you walking alone especially when the sun had already set yet you still did it. Why did you lie?"

You felt like a child being scolded by your mother but instead of taking it the wrong way, you knew that Kita was only looking out for you. It was just ironic that he broke your heart yet still showed his deep concern for your being.

"It's because I didn't want to make you uncomfortable," you finally admitted. "I just confessed to you yesterday and I thought thay maybe I might make you uncomfortable if I kept sticking beside you. I didn't want to be an inconvenience."

"What are you talking about?" Kita stopped walking and turned towards you. "You were never an inconvenience and will never be one."

"Sorry, Shin."

"No. I should be the one to apologize. I made a very rash decision yesterday and ended up rejecting you. I thought that having romantic feelings towards someone would just be a waste of time but I came to realize that it isn't a waste of time if its with you," Kita said with a gentle look on his face.

You didn't speak for a few seconds and just let his words sink in, a feeling of hope igniting inside you when you realized what he was trying to say. "Do you mean that?" you asked hopefully.

"Have I ever lied to you?" Seeing you shake your head no, Kita leaned in to press his forehead against yours. "I like you, y/n."

You felt your heart beat picking up with those simple words and without waiting for anything else, you pressed your lips against his.

Ushijima Wakatoshi

Being the cousin of Tendou Satori had its perks

And one of those perks is the opportunity to see Ushijima everyday

You are only a year younger than them yet despite that, you get along with the team very well

After all, it had been a part of your daily routine to always visit the school's gym

What you didn't expect, however, was to fall for a certain captain

And you, being one of the most open and honest person, confessed the moment you realized your feelings towards him

And despite being turned down several times already, you still persisted, claiming that you'll do everything to make him fall for you

But sometimes, no matter how hard you try, it just isn't enough

"Where's 'Toshi?" you asked Satori when you entered the gym, flashing a small smile to the others before sitting down on an empty bench.

"Talking to the coach." Satori looked at the plastic you were holding and grinned as he noticed what was inside. "Really, y/n-chan? You know that won't work on Ushiwaka, right?"

You just shrugged and placed the item beside you. "It's worth a try, 'Tori. Who knows? Maybe I'll finally be able to get a reaction out of him."

"Y/n."

You looked behind you upon hearing Wakatoshi. "Hi, Toshi. Did you miss me?" you said and flashed him a bubbly smile.

"You always come here everyday. I do not see any reason for me to miss you," he simply answered before taking a seat beside you, eyes glancing at the carrot stuffed toy before focusing on the court.

Satori, who witnessed the whole exchange, just laughed at you, his eyes squinting as he clutched his stomach in tears. "Well, there's your reaction," he said while still catching his breath.

"You don't have to be so mean, Toshi." You pouted and handed him the stuffed toy you brought.

"What's this for?" he asked in slight confusion while examining the carrot you gave him.

"That's a gift. Haven't you noticed? Its been 8 months since I started courting you." You grinned at him.

"Oh? Y/n's courting captain?" came Tsutomu who was wiping his sweat with a clean towel, eyes glancing at the carrot before he exclaimed, "I want one too!"

"Have it." Your eyes widened when Ushijima handed the carrot stuffed toy to Tsutomu. "I don't need it, and please stop giving me stuff from now on. They are irrelevant."

"I worked hard for that! You don't know how much token I spent just to get that from the claw machine!" You frowned at Wakatoshi and took the toy from Tsutomu who's now obviously confused with what's happening.

"Then I'll pay the amount you spent. Just stop giving me random stuff from now on. I don't need them and I don't have any feelings for you," Ushijima said with a passive voice.

You bowed your head and Satori immediately panicked, his arm reaching out to you but you only recoiled. "You're the worst, Toshi!" you yelled at Ushijima before dropping the toy on the floor and running out of the gym.

All three of them were in shock at your outburst, completely not expecting you to say such thing. You've always been bubbly around them so hearing those words from you was something they never expected coming.

"I think you made y/n mad, Captain," Tsutomu said while picking the carrot and dusting it off.

"But all I did was say the truth," Ushijima reasoned out, eyes focused on Tsutomu who was now hugging the toy that was supposed to be his.

Satori just sighed and turned around to go back practicing.

"Captain?" Tsutomu muttered with a confused look as Ushijima suddenly took the carrot from him.

"It's mine."

-

For the sixth time of the day, Ushijima glanced at the closed door of the gym.

It had been almost a week and he haven't caught a single glimpse of you. No visits, no 'coincidentally' bumping on each other despite having different floor levels, nor surprised bentos. Nothing. It basically felt as if you don't exist anymore.

He doesn't even know why he seemed bothered with it. Wasn't it him who pushed you away? He should feel relieved now that you were no longer bothering him, right?

Then why did it felt like he was missing you?

"Y/n's not coming," Tendou said beside Ushijima.

"I know. They haven't been visiting lately." Ushijima stared at Tendou seriously, making the red hair chuckle before raising his hands up in surrender.

"I don't have any idea where y/n-chan is. Even if I do, my lips are sealed," Tendou said before making a zipper motion.

Ushijima sighed and looked down at the ball resting between his feet. "I don't like it when they're avoiding me."

"Hm, I can't blame my cousin for doing that though. They've been pining over you for quite a while now and each time they confess, you end up rejecting them. I guess yesterday was their breaking point," Satori explained with a shrug, "Maybe you got used to the feeling of them coming back everytime you reject them that you don't know how to feel now that they stopped chasing you."

"I..like y/n."

Just as he said those words, the gym doors suddenly opened. You entered with your usual bubbly expression, a wrapped bento in hand as you made your way to them.

"I noticed that you weren't carrying your bento awhile ago so I brought it with me," you said as you handed the bento to Satori, not even bothering to spare a glance at Ushijima who was intensely looking at you.

"Y/n," Ushijima said making you turn to him.

"Yes Ushijima-san?"

Ushijima blinked at the mention of his surname. He knew that it was normal for people to call him Ushijima since it was his name but hearing you say it seemed bothering for some reason. He was used to you calling him either Toshi or Waka-kun.

"I like you, y/n," he said without hesitation.

Satori facepalmed at Ushijima's straightforwardness. Deciding to give you both some space, he stood up and walked away with his bento, leaving the two of you to talk.

You sat down and crossed your arms over chest, body facing Wakatoshi as you waited for him to explain and apologize properly.

"I'm sorry for how I acted a few days ago, I was merely being honest that time, but now I realized that I like you too... and I also did not mean to disregard your efforts just to get Mr. Carrot," Ushijima said while slightly scooting closer to you, his hand obviously trying to reach for yours.

"You named the stuff toy Mr. Carrot?" you asked with a raise of an eyebrow. "I thought you didn't need it.."

"That was a mistake. Mr. Carrot is actually sleeping in my bed as of this moment." The side of Ushijima's lips curled up when you giggled, the sound making his heart race.

"I appreciate you trying to be nice to me, Toshi, but you really hurt me back then, you know? I even had to stay away for a couple of days," you said before looking down at your lap to play with your fingers.

Panic started bubbling up inside Ushijima at your sudden silence. Swallowing the lump inside his throat, he asked you carefully, "Do you still like me? I'm really sorry, y/n. I missed your presence inside the gym. It's not the same without you. It's been too... quiet. Please give me another chance."

You lifted your head upon hearing that, clearly not expecting Ushijima to say those words in almost a pleading manner.

Ushijima took your surprised reaction as a cue to continue. He carefully took your hand in his, his hand completely engulfing yours as he intertwined your fingers. "I won't be aggressive towards you anymore. I know you said you hate me and I'm not the best at this kind of things but for you, I'll try."

You pulled your hand away from him, only to quickly wrap your arms around him, the action obviously catching Ushijima off guard. "I never hated you, 'Toshi," you mumbled with your face buried to his chest.

"Does that mean you still like me?" He said as soon as he composed himself, an unusual soft expression forming on his face when he felt you nodding.

You felt yourself melting even more to his touch when he secured an arm around your waist. "I like you so much, 'Toshi," you said as you looked up him.

"I like you too, y/n." With that, Ushijima leaned down to press a lingering kiss on your forehead.

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated ♥️

a/n: lately, my mind has been filled with wakatoshi ushijima

[winter-soldier-vibes]

Hello can u do a bucky x reader where reader feels insecure and doesn’t have sex with him bc of her stretch marks and our bucky boi finding out and offering comfort and kisses as a result? Love you tysm❤️❤️❤️

Bucky x reader

Word count: 1325

Warnings: brief mention of being intimate (no smut), insecurities, stretch marks, this is mostly comfort and fluffy. Readers are responsible for their own media consumption.

A/N: I love this idea so much! I kept this on the fluffy side but i really hope you enjoy it!

You won't like what you see

“Hey, can we - can we stop?” you said, slightly out of breath as you broke away from Bucky. The two of you had been kissing and Bucky had pulled you closer to him, bringing his hands to the hem of your shirt.

Of course, he immediately stopped and nodded, looking at you with concern. “Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?”

You shook your head, making sure your shirt was pulled down all the way. “I’m fine, don’t worry about it. It’s not you, I promise. I’m just gonna go take a shower”

And with that you had walked away, Bucky watching after you worriedly.

Bucky was never upset that the two of you hadn’t been intimate together. Being from the 40’s where it wasn’t uncommon for people to save themselves for marriage made him understanding. But that didn’t seem to be why.

You made an effort to show how much you loved him, you cared for him, you were with him through everything. The nightmares, his insecurities, the flashbacks, pushing him to keep contact with others even though “you were all he needed” - you were his rock.

And Bucky knew that the two of you could have a relationship without sex, and he was perfectly content with what the two of you had.

But he noticed that you didn’t seem to be.

At first he thought it might have been his fault. He had been self conscious of his metal arm, especially where metal met skin, but you had made it your mission to get Bucky to accept himself. All of him. He was your everything, and you needed him to know that and feel it too.

Anytime you caught him staring at himself in the mirror, you would walk up from behind him and wrap your arms around his waist, meeting his eyes in the mirror. No words would be exchanged, but you would press soft kisses to the scarring on his left shoulder.

He thought maybe you didn’t have interest in him, but the heated kisses and lingering touches pointed otherwise. It all stopped when his hands reached the hem of your shirt.

Every time he got too close to you, you seemed to get uncomfortable. And Bucky wanted to know why so he could fix it. He couldn’t help but let his mind wander to if someone had ever hurt you in the past, making his blood boil.

He wanted you to tell him what was wrong so he could help you like you had helped him.

You had walked into the bathroom, locking the door and turning on the water. You turned to the mirror as you let the water warm up, cursing yourself. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to be closer with Bucky, it was that you were insecure of yourself. You took off your clothes and saw what you didn’t want Bucky to see.

Your stretch marks.

You knew that it was silly to be so upset with them, that many people had them. During growth spurts, gaining weight, having a naturally wider build - they were at the bottom of your stomach, the insides of your thighs, your chest… all the places you didn’t want them to be.

You sighed, turning away. You had tried different products that delivered empty promises. Some of the marks had started to fade but they were still distinct. It was ironic in a way, how you wanted Bucky to trust you with his insecurities and you wanted to know when it bothered him so you could help him, yet you couldn’t show this to Bucky. Not only did you feel weak for letting it bother you, but you couldn’t get past the fact that you were so self conscious. All the articles and body positivity people saying how “stretch marks are normal” didn’t help you much.

It wasn’t that you didn’t think a person could be beautiful with them - in fact pretty much everyone was perfect the way they were. Except for you. Stretch marks are fine and normal - but when you have them they seem ugly.

You noticed that steam had fogged up your mirror, realizing you had spaced out while critiquing your body. You sighed and turned back to the shower, stepping in and letting the water wash over you. You were quick, not wanting to be standing there with yourself for longer than necessary. You finished and turned off the water, drying yourself off before stepping out so you wouldn’t be tempted to stare in the mirror again.

You got dressed in your pajamas and stepped out of the bathroom to find Bucky also in bed. You gave him a soft smile which he returned, though you would still see some of the worry in his eyes. You sat down on the bed and he sat up next to you.

“Sorry, about...earlier.”

“You don’t have to be,” he said reassuringly.

There was a pause before he added, “Can I ask what happened?”

You looked down, embarrassed.

“I just...if it’s something I did I just wanna know so I can fix it.”

Your head snapped back up to him, turning to face him. “Oh god, no, Bucky it’s not you, I promise I just…” you shrugged. “I don’t know.”

He took your hands in his. “You know you can tell me anything, don’t you?”

You looked at him for a moment before nodding.

“I can tell something is bothering you and I just want to know so I can help you,” he said gently.

“It’s embarrassing,” you said.

“I’m not here to judge you.”

You took a deep breath before looking down. “You’re not gonna like what you see,” you say softly.

That took Bucky by surprise, so much so that he didn’t know if he had heard you properly. “What do you mean sweetheart?”

You took another deep breath. “You know how sometimes I catch you staring in the mirror too long, judging yourself and being insecure with your arm?” you ask and Bucky nods, not following along. “I get like that a lot too,” you said softly.

“Why?” he asked softly, still not understanding how you could be insecure about yourself.

“I’m not what society wants me to be. I’m larger in all the wrong places and I have stretch marks everywhere. I don’t like the way I look and I’m afraid you won’t either. It’s so stupid because I know it’s normal but I just hate it so much.”

Bucky tilted your chin so you could look at him. “You are the most beautiful person I have ever met. I understand being insecure, I really do. But you always told me to never hide it. Why did you?”

You shrugged. “Most people have stretch marks. I felt stupid for being so upset.”

“So you’re saying I have a reason to be insecure?”

“No, Bucky, come on...You went through hell. All I did was grow too fast. You hold a lot of horrible memories with that arm. You were tortured. All that happened to me was that I compared myself to models on Instagram or in magazines. I don’t have a right to be upset.”

Bucky wrapped his arms around you, kissing the top of your head before pulling back to look at you. “You have every right to feel the way you feel. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned about society these days is it’s all an act. Everything you see is staged and it’s what they want us to see.” He smiled slightly at you. “The only thing I know is that you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever known, and that’s enough for me. Fuck what society says.”

You smiled shyly at him and he leaned his forehead against you. “You’re so beautiful. A few marks isn’t gonna change that.”

You nodded slightly, leaning forward to kiss him. “Thank you Bucky.”

‘No need to thank me when all I did was tell the truth.”

-------

tags: @babydaddy-buckybarnes @buckys-blue-eyes @barnesplums @abitgryffindorky @freigeistundanderes @bucks-bunny @thatfangirl42 @broadwaybabe18 @mardema

[wildernessuntothemselves]

Fearing You, Loving You | Part 3

Word Count: 3.3k

Genre: smut, angst, some fluff

Warnings: dom!felix, sub!reader, yandere!felix, cockwarming, blowjob, felix loves hentai and humiliating oc, filming, creampie, spitting, mentions of violence.

Sequel to I'm Yours, You're Mine

Gif credit @915archive (yes I'm only gonna use your gifs for lix from now on lol)

You decided that you can't just passively accept your condition. You had to do something to improve your situation, and you know just what to do. 

When Felix comes home from work, you greet him with a kiss that surprises him before you lead him to the bathroom where you had drawn him a bath, gently stripping him and pulling him to the tub. 

Felix stares at you in wonder as get a loofah and pour some body wash on it. 

"What's the occasion?" He asks, happily leaning into your touch. 

"Can't a woman show her husband how much she appreciates him?" You drawl, knowing that his delusional mind and his need to believe that everything is okay will make him easily accept your answer. “I just want to show you how much I love you…”

He relaxes into your touch completely as you gently scrub his body and wash his hair while he lay calm and content like a cat between your arms.

He looked so happy and peaceful, and you lean in to give his pouty lips a peck. His eyes spring open, staring at you in awe before they turn into the lovely crescents they get when he smiles.

“I love you.” He beams, and you curse your heart for still fluttering at his words after all he’s done, but you still can't bring yourself to reply, and Felix's face turns hard. He grabs your hands, stopping your movements. "Tell me you love me." 

You hold his gaze for a minute, your heart hammering against your ribcage, before you force yourself to smile. 

“I’m madly in love with you.” You murmur, washing the conditioner out of his hair before you pull him up to his feet and wrap a towel around his waist. 

Taking his hand in yours, you lead him into the bedroom, drying him off and grabbing a bottle of lotion. Carefully, you rub the product over his skin, taking care to massage the areas you think might be sore like his neck and his back. You tell yourself that you’re only doing this to appease him so that he'll let you have a relationship with your child, disregarding the ball of warmth that keeps growing in the center of your chest with each happy sigh and loving glance he throws at you. 

You dress him up in soft pajamas and sit behind to dry his hair. His eyes are closed and his mouth hangs ever slightly open as he surrenders himself to your touch. He looks so soft, just like the Felix you used to know, that you can’t help but let the towel fall away as you run your fingers through his soft, wet her and press your lips to his cheek. Felix hums appreciatively, leaving his head to the side to give you better access, when a knock sounds at the door, making you jump back. 

"Can I come in, daddy?" Your daughter’s sweet voice pipes up from behind the door.She wasn't allowed to step into the master bedroom without permission, and said permission could only be given by her father if he was present. Felix opens his eyes and is met by your longing ones, silently begging him to let your daughter in. 

He doesn’t look like he wants this moment to be interrupted so you’re shocked when his reply comes, voice deep with exhaustion."Come in, sweetheart." 

Your heart swells and you smile brightly at him. It's working!

He responds with a tired smile of his own as the girl opens the door and timidly comes in. 

"What are you doing?" She asks curiously. 

"Mommy is doing daddy's hair." You beam, playing with Felix’s hair absently. 

"Oh!" Her eyes sparkle, "Can I be the one who styles your hair, daddy?"

Felix chuckles lowly at her enthusiasm, "Of course, princess." 

The girl squeaks in happiness and jumps in place. "I just have to get some stuff from my room. I'll be right back." 

You stare lovingly at her small retreating form. When she's gone, your eyes go back to Felix and you see him looking up at you with adoration in his eyes that makes your breath hitch in your throat. He takes one of your hands in his and places a soft kiss to the back of it. "This is perfect, darling. Thank you. I promise you that I'll do whatever it takes if it means we’ll be together forever, my sweet.”

Your breath hitches and hand shakes in his hold. A million conflicting emotions swelled up inside you, but they were all smothered as soon as your daughter steps back into the door, jumping onto the bed with her little box of hair accessories and a comb.

You pull your hand away as she gets to work, and you watch them closely, eyes trained on your daughter’s excited smile as she messes with her daddy’s hair, and the equally as gorgeous smile he has on his face as he lets her unleash her creative side on him, encouraging her all the while. 

They looked so happy all wrapped up in their little bubble, and you so wanted to be part of it too. You could be. He promised you you can, if only you’d be good. And isn’t that what you wanted? The love of your daughter and your husband? Why were you fighting him so hard?

“Do you prefer the pink ribbon or the sparkly clip, daddy?” Your girl holds the items in her small hands to show them off and Felix pursues his lips in contemplation. 

“The clip I think.” You cut in, brushing Felix’s hair down. “It matches daddy’s sparkly eyes, don’t you think?” 

“Ohh, that’s right!” Your girl exclaims, putting the ribbon down and placing the clip in Felix’s hair. “What do you think, daddy?” 

“I don’t know. What does mommy think?” He holds your hand, smiling up at you, and you know you’re doing the right thing. 

“I love it. You look really pretty, honey.” You lace your fingers with his, “You did a great job, sweetheart.” 

“Yaaay!” Your girl claps in excitement, and Felix turns to her. “Would you like to go get some donuts, princess?” 

“Yes, daddy!” She chirps and jumps off the bed. “I’ll go get dressed.”

Your smile falls. You weren’t allowed to go on outings like this with them lest you steal your daughter and run away or alert anyone. 

"You wanna come with, love?" He brings your hand back to his lips, pressing a kiss to it. 

You couldn't believe how well this was working. You haven't been allowed out like this in years! Maybe you just needed to be nicer to him, and he'll give you everything just like he promised.

You don’t give him a moment to reconsider, rushing to accept.  "I'd love to!" 

__________

Everything was perfect. The night breeze, your daughter's excited voice, the city lights. This is what you could have, always.

Only one detail was off, how Felix never let go of your daughter's hand. But you don't let that bother you. You still needed to prove to him that he can trust you. And everything will be good again.

You step into the store with a bright smile, following Felix to the register and watching him pay for the donuts and coffee. You all then go to select the donuts you want. You pick a chocolate one and a strawberry one. 

While Felix and your daughter choose their own donuts, the barista tells you that your coffee is ready. Not thinking, you leave your husband and daughter and go to pick up the coffee. 

"Umm where is the sugar--" You wonder absentmindedly before spotting it and reaching out for it. The barista reaches out at the same time and your hands touch. You quickly pull away, the both of you laughing.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” You smile, a little embarrassed. 

“That’s okay. I don’t mind touching hands with such a pretty lady.” The barista flirts, passing you the sugar. You sheepishly reach out to take them, feeling a little anxious for some reason you can’t pinpoint. 

You realize your mistake when someone else intercepts you and snatches the sugar packets away. You look up to see a very angry Felix glaring the man down. "She is pretty, isn't she? She’s also my wife." 

“Oh, I’m sorry, sir. I was just trying to help.” The barista clears his throat and looks down.

“I’m sure you were.” Felix grits, quickly putting the sugar in the coffee and stirring it. As soon as he’s done, he hands you the coffee and drags both you and your daughter out of the shop. 

The walk back home he is silent despite your daughter’s constant attempts to make small talk. When you reach your building, he tells you to go up and get dinner ready.

"Where are you going daddy?" Your daughter asks, and Felix glares at you. "Daddy has to take care of something, princess." 

You blanch, holding onto him. "Felix, please." 

He leans down to whisper in your ear, "Do you want to make a scene in front of your daughter? Wanna let her hear how much of a slut her mother is?" 

Tears well up in your eyes and you shake your head. Everything was so perfect. How did it go so wrong? You were so stupid. If you hadn't moved from Felix's side, none of this would've happened. 

Felix pulls you off of him and orders you to go upstairs, and with a teary face you obey. 

When you step into the apartment, your daughter turns to you with crossed arms and a frown on her little face. “You made daddy angry again, didn’t you?”

You stare at her in shock. “What?”

“You always make daddy angry. You always ruin everything.” 

Finding yourself angry for the first time at your daughter. "You don't know anything. You don't know how much I sacrificed for your sake!" 

"I don't care. You only make daddy sad and I hate you."

Her words stab at your heart. With blurry eyes, you grab her and throw her into her room, locking the door behind her and falling to the floor in a sobbing mess. 

You felt wretched. You felt abandoned. You know it's not your daughter's fault, that she's brainwashed, but her words hurt you so much and you find yourself craving reassurance and affection that you know you can only get from one person. 

Wiping your tears, you go to your room to dress up for him, wearing the lingerie dress he had wanted to see on you, and then go to the kitchen to make him dinner, hoping that would appease him enough to give you what you need. 

__________________________

When you hear the door open you freeze in your spot, all your fears reaching their extremes again. You remain still as a statue as you hear his footsteps approach until he's right behind you, his body flush against yours, his hands snaking up your body to grab at your breasts.

“Did you enjoy your little show babe?" He asks, tone sharp.

"No." You quickly attempt to clarify, "I didn't mean to be bad."

"Is that why you looked like you were going to get on your knees in the middle of the store and blow him?"

You shake your head harshly, "I didn't. I just smiled because I was nervous."

He scoffs, his small hands pushing your dainty bra down and roughly groping your tits. "You think I believe you? God, I let you out once thinking you'll be good, but my little cockslut can't help herself, huh?"

“No, Felix--” Tears brim your eyes once again. He wasn't giving you what you wanted. “I would never do anything to betray you.”

"But you did." He growls, rubbing your pussy coarsely while squeezing your tits. “I should’ve bred you before leaving. You’re much better behaved when my cum is dripping down your legs and reminding you of who you belong to.”

“I’m sorry.” You sob, leaning into his touch, hoping to appease him. 

"You will be sorry, baby.“ He promises, making you shiver as he backs away, “Put the food on the table. No plate for you. Whores don't get to eat food. I'll keep your mouth busy with something else."

You know what’s coming, and you feel incredibly humiliated. "No, Felix, please. It's embarrassing."

"Good. You should be embarrassed. If you're gonna act like a cock-hungry slut then you need to be treated like one." He snarls, chuckling at your tears. “You’re crying? Baby I haven’t even given you anything to cry about.”

Helplessly, you prepare his plate for him, already expecting his command. 

“Get on your knees.” He sneers, watching you get between his legs. “Take my cock out and suck on it.” 

You try to obey but when you see the blood stains on his pants, you stop abruptly. “Felix, what did you....”

He looks down at you with heavy eyes and smirks, "Don't worry I didn't kill the man you were drooling after. I just made sure he won't look at other men's wives again."

You shiver, not knowing quite what he means, With Felix this could be anything from a slight warning to a crippling attack. You know he won’t give you more information though so, for your own sake, you unzip his pants and pull out his hard dick, immediately taking it in your mouth. 

"That's a good girl." He breathes out, one hand coming up to tangle in your hair. "Show your master how sorry you are."

You swirl your tongue around his dick, sucking on it earnestly, but as you pull up to breathe he pushes you down, making you take him completely, your nose brushing against his pubic bone with his length fully down your throat. He holds you there and you try to relax your throat as much as possible and try to breathe through your nose, knowing he’ll keep you there.

And he does. Through the whole meal, he stays balls deep in your throat, only resurfacing to fuck your mouth before he buries his dick in your throat again.   

Soon, your jaw gets sore, making your saliva dribble all over his dick and crotch, but Felix doesn't care. In fact, it turns him on, knowing you’re struggling to accommodate his length.

It feels like forever before he lets you go, letting you crash back against the table as you cough and gasp in. You raise your hand to your face to wipe at the mess you've made but Felix stops you.

“Don't clean up. I want you just like you are, my dirty slut.” 

__________________________

He has you on your back on the bed, arms hooked under your thighs and shackled together so that they are pulled up to your chest, immobilizing you and laying your pussy bare for him. 

The flash of the camera goes off as your husband takes a picture of you in the compromising position. 

He stares at it as it develops then he shows it to you, making your cheeks flame red at seeing just how lewd you look.

“You’re such a pretty little thing tied up like that, baby. And all mine, right?” 

"Yes, baby, all yours." You gush, hoping he'd have mercy on you. 

He brushes his fingers down your thigh, skipping over your core and going up the other one, making you shake in need. 

"Want my fingers in your pussy, honey?" He murmurs, brushing the tips of his fingers up and down your pussy with a feather light touch that only makes you whimper out in need. 

"Yes, Lix. Need you so bad." You gasp as his palm meets your pussy is a sharp slap, making your body convulse at the intense sensation. 

"Is that what you call your owner after everything you've done?" 

You shake your head, "No, master. I'm sorry."

"That's better." He purrs, slipping his middle finger inside of you. It was barely enough, just brushing your walls as he pumps it in and out of you. 

"More, please, master." 

"You're so greedy. Always begging for more."

He pushes his index in, the pads of his fingers brushing ever so slightly over your walls. You struggle, your body trying to close your legs but you can't. 

He curls his fingers and rubs back and forth against your g-spot, making you shake. "Master, please."

“You’re mine, do you understand? You belong to me.”

You nod, trying to appease him, and whine in distress when he takes his fingers out of your pussy. He brings them up to your mouth. 

"Tongue out." He says gruffly, placing his fingers on your tongue and pumping them in and out of your mouth, occasionally hitting the back of your throat and making you gag around them. 

"You're mine, baby. You were made for me. If only you would see." He sighs, taking a picture of you choking on his fingers before pulling them away, leaving a trail of saliva in his wake. 

He presses his dick against your entrance and you whimper. 

"Gonna give you my cock now. Gonna stuff you full." He purrs, pushing himself inside. "Let's see if I can get your eyes to roll back into your skull, angel." 

He takes multiple pictures of you as he fucks you, instructing you on how to pose and what faces to make. 

"Yeah, that's it darling. Gonna carry these around to show to any man you try to seduce so they'd know whose slut you are." 

You shake your head, tears brimming along your eyelashes from how roughly he's fucking you. This isn't what you wanted. You need him to love you and be gentle with you. 

"That's not true!" You sob, barely able to get the words out between him railing you and your uncontrollable tears. "I didn't do anything. I was good just like you wanted."

"Don't fucking lie to my face!" He grits, throwing the camera to the side and grabbing your thighs so he can brutally drive his hips into yours, his cock not giving your pussy a break. "I saw the way you were looking at him." 

"No. No." Your eyes roll up as you feel your pussy start to clench around him, his cock forcing the orgasm out of you. 

"There you go. That's my good slut." 

You see the flash of the camera go off as you cum, and you can't even imagine how fucked out you look right now. 

He grabs your jaw and forces you to look at him. "Say ahhh." 

Dumbly, you obey, opening your mouth wide for him to spit into. You keep your mouth open while he takes a picture of you. 

"Swallow." He commands, watching you with dark eyes as you do and groaning when you open your mouth again to show him. "Good girl. You got me so close, baby. Gonna give you all my cum. You want it, baby?"

You whimper in agreement, your poor pussy getting sore and overstimulated. 

"I should take away your birth control and stuff you full of my cum. Give you another baby and keep you pregnant all the time so everyone would know that your pussy is taken." His pace gets sloppy and erratic as he nears his end.

"No, baby, please. Don't."

"Shut up, slut. I'll make it so everyone will know that you're claimed." He jerks his hips forward one last time before he groans loudly and his cock twitches inside you, filling you up with his cum. 

He stays there for a while, pluging your pussy and keeping his cum inside as if he intends on making true on his promise. 

When he pulls back, you feel his seed dribble out of your pussy before a flash goes off. 

"Stick your tongue out." He orders, and puts your fingers up in a double peace sign to mimic the fucked stupid characters in the hentai he loves to watch so much.

"Perfect." He smiles, showing you the picture. You look ruined, used, and entirely his.

________________

A/N: hope you're as dead as I am

[theweasleysredhair]

Naughty or Nice [F.W.]

Character: Fred Weasley

Word Count: 3224

Requested?: Yes/No

Summary: Fred likes it when his girlfriend dresses up for the festive season.

WARNING: this is NSFW, 18+, smutty, sexy times, idk how else to say it. pls don’t read if you’re a minor. including oral (male and female receiving), bondage, fred being hot, fred being dom

Tags: @gracemayhateyou @acciotwinz @rexorangecouny @mischi3f-manag3d @twinkyjohnson @immobulusmalfoy @hufflrpuffforfred @whiz-bangs78 @heart-of-tempered-steel @vivianweasley @harrysweasleys @ickle-ronniekins

Disclaimer: Gif isn't mine, credit to whoever made it

A/n: so this is for @wand3ringr0s3 ‘s writing challenge (prompt: “shut up and strip.”) from what feels like about 3 years ago (ily haley ❤️). i’m a couple days late for christmas but it’s still the holiday season so i hope you all enjoy this festive fic!! also side note,, this fic was and is the bane of my existence, i hate it, hated writing it, and hate that it took me so long to actually finish it. but other than that, i hope you guys like it more than i do!

~*~

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST MY WORK! REBLOGS ARE ABSOLUTELY FINE! <3

+ + + + +

The joke shop had been getting busier and busier over the last month and half, with parents on a mission to find Christmas presents for their children, and with more of the Wizard Wheezes products being added to Christmas lists every day, this meant that the store often had a queue forming before opening time, and, more times than not, the twins had had to stay open late, with customers still deciding between products, or people running in a few seconds before closing to quickly pick up their last few bits.

With nonstop talking and interacting all day, Fred arrived home exhausted, hair messy from where he’d ran his hands through it one too many times, tie skewed and the bags under his eyes getting darker as the days went on. All he really wanted, he decided as he hung his jacket on the rack and kicked his shoes off, was some food, and a long warm shower - preferably with you joining him.

“Love?” He called out as he stepped into the living room. He sifted through the mail that had been left on the coffee table, frowning when he didn’t hear a response. He dropped the letters, finding nothing but bills there, undoing his top button and loosening his collar as he headed towards your bedroom - perhaps you were in there.

“Y/n?”

There was a loud thud, as if someone had tripped over, followed by you letting out a string of curses, “I’m in the bedroom but-“

Fred headed over to the door, worried, wondering what you were doing when he heard you add on quickly, “I’ve got a surprise for you!”

“A surprise?”

Fred reached for the door handle, intent on opening the door when he heard you shriek, “Don’t come in! I won’t be a moment, wait out there!”

“Fine,” he grumbled, stepping away from the door and bringing his hands up to undo his tie, throwing it onto the nearest cabinet top. That’s when you emerged from your shared room, leaning against the doorway and winking at him, watching happily as he froze, eyes raking down your body, mouth open in a slack ‘o’.

“Surprise,” you practically sang out, posing for him with a thigh bent, watching as his gaze drifted from your chest, to your hips and thighs, before travelling down your legs.

You wore a see-through red baby doll, the cleavage outlined in white feathers, with open cups, though they were covered - barely - by a satin bow that, with a simple pull, would reveal your chest to Fred. Paired with a matching red string thong, red stiletto heels and your lips coloured a perfect same shade of crimson, you knew it would drive Fred wild - a treat after a long day’s work.

“Fuck- c’mere,” was all Fred could manage to stutter out, before his hands were on your waist, pulling you into a rough, desperate kiss, one he’d been looking forward to all day. The feel of your soft lips on his nearly made him groan out against you and as he felt your heel slowly move up his leg and then back down again, he felt himself twitch in his boxers, eager to rip your lingerie off of you.

He pressed you against the doorframe, his chest against yours as he pushed his tongue into your mouth, fingertips digging into the soft skin your thigh as he pushed himself between your legs, grinding his hips against yours, you letting out a breathy moan as his trousers brushed against the thin material of your underwear, a jolt of pleasure shooting through you and making him smirk against your lips.

He pulled back a little, groaning and dropping his head back as he caught sight of your messy hair and swollen lips, lipstick smudged from where he’d kissed you.

“Did I ever tell you how beautiful you are?” He spoke softly, eyes staring down at you lovingly.

“All the time. But it’s nice to hear it, especially from you,” you leaned up, brushing your lips softly against his as you began to undo his shirt buttons.

“Can’t believe you dressed up for me,” he murmured, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth as his fingers danced across the bow covering your chest, his other hand gripped your lace covered hip. He moved to press kisses against the exposed skin of your neck, trailing kisses slowly in the direction back to your mouth.

“I’m all festive and you’re not,” you pouted, your arms around his neck as his hands moved to grip your hips, pulling you further against him. Fred hummed disinterestedly, much more focused on the way his tongue was moving down your jaw.

“If it means that much to you, I’ll wear a Santa hat,” he mumbled, sucking the skin just under your ear, the place he knew made you shiver and moan out.

“You could dress up as Santa,” you suggested with breathy laugh, your hands gripping onto his broad shoulders through his shirt, before gasping a little as his teeth nipped against the skin of your neck.

“I’ll dress up as a fucking reindeer as long as you let me touch you within the next few minutes,” his hand wandered under the transparent netting of the babydoll, fingers toying at the waistband of your underwear, moving to sneak his hand lower, “Better yet, let me rip this off you.”

“Hmm I don’t know... I quite like this set,” you feigned contemplation, pulling away from him for a moment and innocently glancing down at the red satin bow that barely covered your chest, “Besides, if you rip it off me, I won’t be able to strip for you.”

Fred’s pupils blew wide as he ran a hand up and down your side, “You gonna strip for me?”

“I might,” you smiled sweetly up at him, feeling his grip on you tighten a little.

“You better.”

His lips pushed against yours again as he walked you backwards into the room, holding you against him as he pressed his hips against your thigh, allowing you to feel him, already hard and straining against the material of his trousers.

With a little manoeuvring, Fred managed to kick said trousers off without pulling away from the kiss, instead deepening it as he angled his head and held the side of your jaw, half his hand brushing against your neck.

You were breathing heavy when you pulled away for air, taking a moment to head over to the radio to turn some mood music on. You smiled to yourself as you purposely bent over the cabinet a little, hearing an intake of breath from behind you, and jumping when you felt a hand squeeze your bum. You leant back into Fred’s touch, his hand still holding your bum as he whispered, warm breath hitting your ear, “Naughty girl.”

His tongue ran along the outer shell of your ear as you pushed your bum back against him, causing him to groan and spin you around quickly to face him again.

He brought his thumb up to your bottom lip, gently ghosting over it with a light touch. He was about to lean forward to kiss you again when you gave him a gently push, causing him to fall back on the bed, eyes wide in surprise, “What-“

You smirked at him, pressing a button on the radio and allowing the sultry melody to play out into the room. Fred kicked his boxers off quickly, his cock hitting his stomach and you licked across your bottom lip, knowing his eyes were on you.

He sat up at the edge of the bed, now only wearing his unbuttoned shirt, legs wide, watching you spin round for him, showing him just how little skin the thong covered, the baby doll transparent and showing all. He groaned, a hand wrapping round his cock as he started stroking himself as his eyes travelled over your body with such intensity that you felt warm all over.

You paused your movements for a moment, turning to look at him. “You know, if you gave me a couple minutes, I reckon I could find a decent Santa hat for you...” you teased, smiling as he rolled his eyes at you.

“Just shut up and strip for me,” Fred practically growled out and your eyes widened a little, the deepness of his voice hitting you straight between your legs and you bit your lip, fingers toying at your waistband as you slowly pulled them down just a couple of centimetres, before putting them back in place, causing him to groan.

His mouth opened as if he were about to tell you off again, when suddenly, with one movement, you pulled at the end of the bow, allowing the satin to fall to the side, showing Fred the open cups of the lingerie.

His jaw dropped, abs clenching as he stared at your chest. “Shit- princess-“ he breathed out.

You noticed his hand moving faster and reached into your own underwear, fingers gently moving against yourself as you played with the hem of the babydoll, pulling it up so the skin of your hips and stomach were now on full show. You closed your eyes, mouth falling open a little and you heard Fred groan, cursing as he watched you.

It was just for a few seconds, before you pulled your hand out, taking a step closer to Fred. You were about to kick your heels off when he shook his head at you firmly, “Keep the heels on.”

You raised an eyebrow but nodded nonetheless, “Yes sir.”

Even with the lack of light in the room, and the distance between you, you swore you saw his eyes darken, even more so as you moved even closer to him, hands moving behind you to unclip the babydoll, before heading to your shoulders where your straps sat. You winked before pulling the straps down your arms, allowing the lingerie to fall in a pool at your feet.

You lifted it with one stiletto, a strap hooking onto the heel and you were about to kick it away when Fred suddenly stood up, grabbing your raised thigh and wrapping it around his waist, pulling the babydoll from your heel and dropping it to the floor.

“Enough of that, need to touch you baby girl,” he groaned, his nails digging into your skin lightly as he held you against him.

“But I didn’t finish,” you pouted, looking at him through your eyelashes. He thrust his hips against yours suddenly making you whimper out.

“Keep complaining and you won’t finish at all, got that princess?” He warned, before spinning you round and pushing you back onto the bed, tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip as he enjoyed the sight of you in just your red thong and heels.

“I said, got that princess?” He repeated, his voice lower, firmer.

You breathed out a small ‘yes’ just as he moved to climb on top of you, immediately pressing his lips against yours again. “Good girl,” he mumbled as your arms move to wrap around his neck, his arms either side of your head as he pushed himself against you, pressing as much skin to yours as possible.

His tongue slipped into your mouth again as he rocked his hips against yours, creating just a little friction where you needed him, and you whispered out a ‘please’, though you weren’t sure exactly what you were asking for.

Fred seemed to have an idea however, as he kissed down your jaw, across your neck and continuing on, stopping briefly to suck on the skin of your clavicle before moving further down to your breasts, pulling a nipple into his mouth as his tongue played with it softly, causing you to breathe out happily, your hands dancing through his hair as he moved to the other.

He then moved on, leaving marks across your ribs, stomach and hips, before reaching the waistband of your underwear. Without warning, he suddenly ripped them from you, and you gasped as the cool air hit you.

He pressed soft kisses to your inner thighs, before licking his thumb and pressing against your clit, tracing circles and watching as your hips jolted from the sudden pleasure. As quickly as he started, he stopped, causing you to whine out, reaching down with your own hand to touch yourself.

Fred narrowed his eyes and gripped your wrist before you could. “Trying to touch yourself?” He tutted, “You know that’s my job.”

He pulled away for a moment in search of something, reaching into a draw beside the bed. You wondered what he was doing when he caught your eyes and smirked, and then you felt a cool metal hit your wrist, your arm being pulled up as he threaded the chain behind and around one of the poles on the bed frame, before grabbing your other wrist and tightening the other handcuff around it - now every time you pulled your hands forward, you were stopped by the chain.

“That’s for being not behaving and trying to touch yourself,” he shook his head, the corner of his lip curling up as he watched you struggle against the handcuffs and pout up at him.

“Remember, only good girls get to come. You gonna be good for me, princess?” He asked, softly this time, thumb running along your hipbone and making you shiver. You nodded quickly.

Fred trailed his fingers down to your clit, just barely adding pressure and making you gasp out, “You gotta use your words, baby girl.”

You nodded again, “Yes Freddie, I’ll be good.”

“That’s my girl.”

He applied more pressure to your clit, circling and tracing shapes as pleasure ran through you. Your hips bucked up towards his hand, wanting to feel more friction and Fred bit his lip, smirking down at you, “Look at you, all needy and desperate for me.”

He pushed a finger back into you, quickly joined by a second, and grinned at the breathy moan that escaped your lips, “Is this what you want? For me to touch you like this?”

“Yes please.”

As he continued to move his fingers inside you, he changed his position so his hips were facing you, gently nudging your lips with his cock, “Open up, sweetheart.”

You parted your lips and he pushed himself inside your mouth groaning as he felt your tongue swirl around the tip. He bucked his hips forward, almost hitting the back of your throat, your eyes watering as you continued to bob your head best you could whilst still being restrained by the handcuffs.

“You okay princess?”

You nodded, humming out a ‘yes’ and making him groan out as it sent vibrations through him. His fingers were still moving against you and you could feel yourself clenching around him just as he twitched in your mouth.

He pulled out before he could finish, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he murmured in answer to your questioning look, “Wanna be inside you when I come.”

He moved to kneel between your legs, lifting your thighs and wrapping them around his hips as he leant down to where his fingers were, his warm breath hitting between your legs and you pulled on the handcuffs, wanting to wrap your arms around Fred, whining as you heard the sound of the metal against the bed frame.

The way his finger was moving against your clit made you think you wouldn’t last much longer, and you were proven right when Fred finally licked into you, his tongue rolling against you and making you moan out.

“Freddie!”

He hummed against you and you clenched around his fingers again, nearing your high. “Should I let you finish, princess?” He spoke against you, “Reckon you’ve been good enough for me?”

“Yes, yes please. I’m good- I’ll be good. Please,” you breathed out.

He applied just the faintest more pressure to your clit, tongue moving against you and suddenly pleasure washed over you as you moaned out, pulling again at the handcuffs. He continued licking into you until he heard you whining from the over stimulation, moving back up your body, pressing kisses to your stomach, chest and neck as he did so, before finally hovering over you, looking into your hazed eyes as he shot you a lazy smile.

“Ready for me, princess?”

“Always, Freddie.”

Your legs were still wrapped around his waist and you felt him line himself up, before he finally pushed into you, making you both groan out. He pressed his lips to yours, moving his hips against yours and thrusting into you.

He was rough, setting a fast pace but you matched his movements even with your hands tied up, revelling in the feeling of being so full, so complete.

Your heels dug into his back, leaving little dents, his own fingernails digging into your hips, leaving marks to remind you both in the morning of the events of the night before.

It didn’t take long for you to feel the familiar jolt of building pleasure, and from the way Fred was groaning into your neck, you knew he was close too.

He reached up and fumbled to unlock the handcuffs, allowing them to fall to the floor as you ran your hands through his ginger hair the way you’d been imagining, tugging at strands, making him curse out.

“I’m close-“ you breathed out, eyes fluttering closed as your hands moved to grip his flexing shoulders.

“I know, me too princess. Come for me,” Fred breathed out as he moved against you. Your second high coursed through you soon after and your head fell back against the pillow, breathing out another moan when you felt him finish inside you, his movements slowing down as his breathing began to still.

He was pressing kisses across your face, your cheeks, nose, multiple to your swollen lips as he pulled out of you, collapsing by your side, his skin flushed red.

You turned onto your side and kissed him gently again, and his hands held your waist as you moved on top of him.

“I love you,” you smiled down at him, watching as he smiled back at you.

“I love you too, princess, so much.”

He pulled you against him, your head nuzzling into his chest as his arms wrapped around you. He was quiet for a moment, and you began to think he’d fallen asleep when suddenly he spoke out, “So uh... me dressing up as Santa, huh? That something that would interest you?”

You lifted your head to see him smiling cheekily at you, rolling your eyes though you couldn’t help but smile, “Possibly. Why, what are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking I dress as Santa, you put that babydoll back on and maybe you sit in my lap,” Fred grinned, “How’s that sound?”

“Amazing,” you breathed out, feeling his hands squeeze your waist. He offered you no reply and instead moved from under you and jumped up off the bed, grabbing his dropped boxers and nearly falling as he pulled them back on again.

“Wait, where are you going?” You laughed, watching as he headed to the door.

“Where do you think?” He turned to you and grinned,

“I’m off to find a Santa costume.”

[honeymoonjin]

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ot7 x reader || ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 5.9k || ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: smut - rated 18+

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ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: cursing, panic attack

A/N: apologies for my tgm crimes here but i gotta keep you on your toes since you have the old plan. also i'm not going to spoil anything but day 25 has one of my fav scenes in the show so far ;;-; so please enjoy this chapter and i will continue to work hard to finish the following one and get back into the posting routine!

DAY TWENTY-FOUR

You’re roused from sleep by the feathered sensation of fingertips on your jaw. Twitching slightly, you try and move away from it, burrowing deeper into the warm, gently rocking pillow your head is propped up on.

Before you can slip back under, however, the fingers give one last attack: a sudden flick to your cheek that echoes with a thwack. You flinch and furrow your brows, grumbling your displeasure since your words haven’t quite found you yet.

“Get up, sleepyhead, unless you’d rather I just piss in the bed.”

That’ll do it. You shoot up so quickly your vision swims, one side of your face feeling cold without the comfort of Yoongi’s chest. “Fuck you, go pee,” you slur, eyes still half-closed, the morning glare peeking through a gap in his curtains.

Yoongi happily but hurriedly trots off to the bathroom, giving you a moment of respite to collect yourself. It takes a few moments to recall the previous night, not just the way Yoongi’s voice had made you cum in your room, but also the way it later lulled you to sleep as he told you hushed stories of his childhood or anecdotes from his days as a sex education teacher.

You can even hear his voice now, just barely slipping under the crack of the door, humming and singing under his breath as he washes his hands.

When he finally exits, you’re propped up by pillows, duvet tucked over your knees and eyes crinkled fondly at his bedhead.

“Oh, no,” he starts with a frown, “you better get that look off of your face.”

Your smile drops. “What?”

Taming his hair with a few flat strokes, he shakes his head. “I need somebody sane in this house to talk to. You aren’t allowed to fall in love with me, it’s conflict of interest.”

Mouth dropping open, it takes you a few minutes to note the subtle curl to his lips. “You dick! I’m certainly not planning on it, don’t flatter yourself.”

“Hey,” he defends in a drawl, no attempt at modesty as he shucks his pyjamas before browsing his chest of drawers, “it’s been done before. You come for the massive dick and stay for the massive heart.” He pauses, shoulder muscles flexing as he reaches in to a drawer, pulling out a pair of dark wash jeans. “Stop looking at my ass, I’m trying to lecture you.”

On the contrary, you lower your gaze and narrow in on it. “You’re starting to develop a little bubble butt, Yoongi. It’s very cute.” Not leaving him time to protest, you barrel on. “Besides, your dick isn’t that big.”

“That’s only because you’re comparing mine to hyung’s. And Namjoon’s. And… And Jungkook’s, I guess. And-” Suddenly he cuts himself off, throwing himself back on the bed with his back hunched in despair. “Fuck, do I have a small dick?”

“Mm, not really,” you dismiss easily, deciding to finally get out of bed and pick out your own clothes - selecting them from Yoongi’s drawers, of course. He makes no protest, still staring blankly at the jeans in his hands. “You just have steep competition here. There’s nothing wrong with small dicks, either. They’re cute.”

Now visible from your angle, Yoongi’s face twists in a grimace. “But my dick isn’t small, right?”

You shrug, slipping on one of his FG shirts and a pair of sweatpants loose enough that you have to knot the drawstrings. “If it helps you sleep at night.”

He spares one somber glance down between his legs before he slips on a pair of underwear, finally stepping into the jeans. There’s a brief period of comfortable silence, before he lets out a small sigh. “Can I… Can I confess something to you?”

Although a quip would be easy enough to say, you sense the joking is over. “Of course, Yoongi,” you assure instead, sitting cross-legged on the unmade bed beside him. He doesn’t meet your eye, busying himself with slipping a shirt over his head. “What’s up?”

Once he’s fully dressed, he still keeps his eyes low. “When you- On Monday, when you voted out Jin-hyung. I was so glad.”

You pause for a moment. “Because you wanted him out of the competition?” you venture, but he shakes his head dully.

“Because I thought he might look at me again if he didn’t have you.”

Something sinks in your stomach, cold enough to make you shiver. The guilt in Yoongi’s voice doesn’t conceal the open vulnerability of his expression as he fiddles with his bitten fingernails. “What do you mean, Yoongi?”

“What him and I had earlier wasn’t healthy, I know that,” he defends to himself, “but… I still miss it. I miss him. But even when I spoke to him after the elimination, all he would talk about was you. And I can’t even be mad, because I get it. And I- If I’m honest,” he murmurs, feet scuffing restlessly on the carpet, “I don’t even know what I’m wanting to achieve by telling you this, but I couldn’t stand not having anybody know about it. I never wanted it to get this messy. I told myself I wouldn’t let my feelings get caught up. But I think a little heartbreak would be worth it, for him. Is that stupid?”

You feel so unanchored, like there’s nothing for you to grab onto to steady yourself. More so, you feel entirely incapable of helping your friend like you so desperately want to. “It’s not stupid,” you begin, reaching out to cup one of his hands snugly between the two of yours, head resting on his shoulder in solidarity, “and I’m so sorry. Does he- does he know you feel this way?”

“I don’t think so,” Yoongi admits in a low voice, leaning into your touch. “If he does, then he must not like me since he’s not acknowledging it. And if he doesn’t, then he must have never even considered me like that. I know I was a distraction at best.”

You knit your brows together, deep in thought to try and find the right words to say. “Or perhaps he knows and he’s respecting your boundaries by letting you initiate, especially since he was the one who took advantage of you last time. And perhaps he doesn’t know, and it’s only because he’s so caught up in his own feelings that he hasn’t considered that you may feel the same. You just don’t know these things, Yoongi. I didn’t know how you felt either until you told me.”

He nods slowly, jerkily. “Yeah,” he says weakly. “Jungkook said almost the exact same thing, actually.”

You pull back slowly, curiosity colouring your tone. “Jungkook?”

Yoongi manages a shy smile, cheeks colouring slightly. “He approached me. We- we talk a lot, way more than hyung and I ever did. I know Kookie has a crush on me, and we said we’d take things slow, but dammit, I can’t help but like the kid.”

You let a surprised laugh bubble up your throat. “That- I was not expecting that, but I’m so glad, Yoongi. Even if you don’t have Jin, I’m glad you’re letting yourself be happy with others.”

His smile falters. “Is it greedy that liking Jungkook doesn’t make me want Jin-hyung any less?”

You go still, thinking of your own blooming feelings for... Well, for most of the people in this house, if not - at least a little bit - all of them. “I don’t know,” you answer honestly. “I’d like to think not.”

Yoongi lifts his gaze to you, carefully studying your face. “Do you ever worry,” he begins, so softly that you have to strain to make the words out, “that our feelings have been set up. By the show, I mean.” His brows furrow deeper. “We’re living in a practical paradise - luxurious house with no real jobs, our food is paid for, we’re literally getting rewarded to have sex. It’s so artificial, you know? So who’s to say that our feelings are artificial, too? I- I’ve been thinking about that a lot,” he admits with a pensive stare.

You can’t lie. You nod. “I’d like to think not,” you repeat hollowly, “but… I mean, yeah, this feels like some alternate reality, and thinking of any of you in normal, mundane, real-life scenarios seems so strange. Like, can you picture Hoseok sitting down and doing his taxes?”

Yoongi snorts, shaking his head in bemusement as a line of tension eases from his shoulders. “I hope he hires an accountant. I certainly wouldn’t trust him with my money.”

You let out a deep sigh and fall backwards onto the duvet, air punched out of you on impact. “The thing is, Yoongi,” you declare in a matter-of-fact tone, “we have no way of knowing what life will be like once all this is wrapped up so why even bother worrying?”

He turns slightly, just enough to watch you warily over his shoulder. “Maybe because I could get my heart broken?”

You pout at him. “Tell me how that’s any different from developing a crush in real life?”

He opens his mouth, furrows his brows, and closes it again. “I- Ugh. Fuck you for being correct.”

Pleased with yourself, you hide your grin as you playfully knock his side with your foot, making him recoil with a groan. “Be as cautious or as impulsive as you want, but even if all this is fake, you could’ve just as easily developed those feelings outside of the show. Like come on, if you saw Jin in the grocery store don’t tell me you wouldn’t fall in love on sight!”

Yoongi shakes his head again, a wry smile playing at his lips. “I see your point… and now I’m picturing Jin getting groceries and looking hot doing it...wow.”

You cackle at the dazed look on Yoongi’s face, using his arm to pull yourself up off the bed, patting him on the shoulder. “Good talk, champ. I’m off to chow down on the leftover pork from last night. Care to join me?”

His eyes glitter, but the doctor declines. “Yoonji said she blackmailed one of the production team to bring her fried chicken from her favourite place. She’s hiding it in the bunk room, but you didn’t hear that from me. She’s selling some to me for a small fortune, the little devil.”

“Less than half a week here and she’s already set up a black market,” you muse, “I think I may be in love with her, Yoongi.”

“Don’t you dare.”

--

While the kitchen is empty when you first arrive, it only takes the sizzle of pork belly in a saucepan to draw your roommates down.

Jin is first, silently rummaging in the pantry and fridge for some side dishes to add to the mix. In return, you begin boiling some hot water, adding instant coffee mix to two mugs.

As the others join, the line of mugs and glasses on the kitchen island grows, until even the two Min twins are hovering in the kitchen, looking suspicously still hungry after their illicit breakfast.

There aren’t enough chairs at the table to seat you all, but luckily Taehyung and Jungkook are happy hunched over the bench in the kitchen, sharing a set of Airpods and snickering at a seemingly endless stream of TikToks.

At the table, Namjoon, Hoseok and Yoongi chow down on their meals, the latter with a considerably smaller portion made up mostly of meat. Yoonji and Jimin are on either side of you, with Jin on one end, chewing slow to savour each bite.

It’s the first time in a while that you’ve all shared breakfast at the same time, and you’re struck with a deep feeling of fondness at this little family-like group you’re living with.  Jimin sneaks extra strips of meat or spoonfuls of rice into your bowl when he thinks you’re not looking; Hoseok listens enthusiastically to Namjoon’s explanation of a summer school course he’s taking, even as he has to ask for clarification just about every second sentence; Yoongi splits his time between checking up on the two maknaes with a soft look, and scowling at his sister’s teasing comments.

“Any plans for the day?” Yoonji asks suddenly, tugging you out of your musings. She’s dressed sleekly in a black velvet mock neck shirt and high waisted denim shorts, her face as stark a resemblance to her brother as ever, with two sharp lines of black on her lids being the only visible makeup. “Except, I suppose, the mandatory fucking.”

You huff with pink cheeks, never growing used to hearing it so openly. “The days kinda blur together a little when you have no real responsibilities,” you admit, “I should probably find a hobby or something.”

Yoonji’s eyes crinkle in faux empathy. “Oh, honey, you’re gonna be so out of it when you return to the real world. You all will,” she adds, before shrugging, “except maybe Namjoon. Seems like academia doesn’t stop for anyone.”

You can’t help but agree. “He has more brain cells in his pinky finger than I do in my own body,” you swear, “he could break an arm and still type a thesis one-handed.”

Halfway through a mouthful of food, you’re rewarded to the ungraceful yet endlessly endearing sound of her snorting, a hand cupped over her mouth. After swallowing, she turns towards you to respond. “I haven’t known him for long, but that seems to check out. He’s quite the character, huh?”

You don’t miss the meaningful lilt to her voice, nor the quirk of a sharp brow. “He’s a good guy,” you reply under your breath, gaze darting down the table to where the man himself is engaged in an intensely enthusiastic discussion (okay, closer to a TedTalk) with Hoseok, now using pieces of meat to create an abstract diagram in his otherwise empty bowl. The latter looks bewildered, but is nonetheless paying deep attention to every word.

It’s impossible not to feel soft inside as you look at the pair of them, all complementary contrast. Hoseok with his slender nose and harsh facial structure and Namjoon with a round, gentle face. One of them dressed in sleek black and the other in oversized earth tones, the typically reserved one animated and the bubbly one focused in. It had taken you barely a month of shared living to become completely fond of these men, not just Namjoon and Hoseok but all of them, and as much as it was nice to have someone new in the Villa for a while, Yoonji’s presence makes you more aware of the fact that you and the seven guys had developed a certain equilibrium that seemed slightly off-balance with the change.

It makes you worry about what other disturbances this delicate system could hold, and if returning to the real world would be a shift large enough to permanently upend it.

Wishing to dispel the pessimistic narrative beginning to form, you focus in on Yoonji again. “Anyways,” you start, “how are you finding the Villa so far?”

“Certainly an interesting look behind the veil, though it’s really not ideal having to-” Yoonji’s cut off by the chirp of an incoming message on her phone. “Sorry, one sec,” she mumbles absentmindedly, but you don’t miss the way her face falls when she reads the message, immediately glancing directly across the table to where her brother sits.

To your growing concern, Yoongi is also reading a message on his phone, and he quietly excuses himself from the table, leaving his bowl half-eaten. He jerks his head towards the front door, and Yoonji manages a quick apology before they’re leaving the room.

All startled out of their separate conversations, the remaining members of the household sit in confused silence, enough that even Taehyung and Jungkook turn around from their phones.

“What’s going on?” Jungkook asks in a worried voice. “Where’s Yoongi-hyung?”

Nobody replies, Jin just shaking his head with a grim frown and leaving the table himself, going after them.

“Guys,” Taehyung says more insistently, eyes not leaving the empty seats at the table.

“They both got a text,” you say with furrowed brows, “Yoongi and Yoonji. Must’ve been bad news, judging by their faces.”

“Jin-hyung’ll find out what’s going on,” Namjoon assures, though it sounds more like he’s trying to convince himself, “let’s just clean up for them and wait for an update. Yeah?”

The two youngest nod solemnly, still with a single Airpod each bobbing in their opposite ears.

For a while, the group of you remaining sit in silence, as if caught up in some spell that would only be broken once Jin returned with some answers. The absence of Yoongi at the table is so much more pronounced, and you can’t help but feel the sickening worry swirl inside you when you look at his bowl, chopsticks strewn carelessly beside it.

Everyone is just waiting for bad news. You’ve felt this looming dread before, and it either came with a swoop of relief or a blow of despair. Your teeth find your thumbnail as you wait helplessly to see which one it’ll be.

It feels like an eternity before the door finally opens, making everyone jump, but only a few minutes have really passed. Jin is panting slightly, like he ran back from wherever Yoongi disappeared to.

“He’s-” he starts quickly, before a tremor passes over his face and he grimaces, jogging over and falling heavily into his chair at the table, face in his hands. “Their dad is in hospital. Heart attack.”

“Oh my god,” Namjoon breathes, brows knit together in sympathy. “Is he okay? Was it serious?”

Jin shrugs, looking up enough to run his hand over his face and take a shaky breath. “He’s alright for now, but apparently they need to make sure it doesn’t repeat anytime soon. If he settles, he’ll be fine, but there’s a chance that he might suffer another attack. Yoongi and Yoonji are going to the hospital now to stay with him until they’re more certain he’s stable. Just in case.”

“When is he coming back? Yoongi-hyung?” Jungkook’s eyes are wide, shiny. He can’t stop fiddling with his fingers, self-soothing.

“Not for a while, I don’t think,” Jin divulges with a pained expression. “He needs to be there for his family right now. That’s all I know, I’m sorry.”

The front door creaks, and all of you instinctively whip your heads towards it, as if Yoongi himself might be returning already, but you’re greeted with the weary face of Producer Sejin, joining you at the table, taking Yoongi’s old spot. Taehyung frowns deeply at the choice, turning his face away.

“What’s going on?” you ask quickly. “What happens to Yoongi? And us?”

“Yoongi is… He was in a rush to get going, understandably, so we didn’t speak in great depth. But he in short stated that he’d return when his father was in better health if the place was still open for him. I’ve got in contact with the higher-ups, and we’ve agreed to put the show on a temporary hold.”

“On hold?” Jungkook asks in a nervous voice. “What does that even mean?”

Sejin clears his throat stiffly and clicks his tongue. “Well. It means we’re putting a stop to the game for now, in short. If Yoongi is able to return by the end of the week, we’ll resume as usual. Otherwise, we’ll consider him to have permanently left the competition, and we’ll be forced to continue the game without him.”

You frown, fighting the urge to cry. This all feels so wrong, like he’s been taken from you with little hope of reunion, and discussing it like administration feels so clinical. “So we’re just sitting here, not knowing if he’s going to come back home, waiting around in limbo?” As soon as you finish, it feels like the word home lingers in the air longer than the rest of them. And perhaps this house doesn’t feel like home to you, but it certainly seems like six of the seven pieces of home are around you right now, and it’s not the same without him away. By the way the others are solemn and red-eyed, you probably aren’t the only one that’s begun feeling that way.

Sejin just shakes his head slowly, as subdued as you all are. “Listen, I know this isn’t ideal. The boss wanted to film it, make a big drama out of it, and then kick him off the show for views. I’m doing the best I can here to compromise and give him some dignity.”

Eyes widening, you stare at the round eyes of the cameras in the living room. “Are you- are you even allowed to say that?”

“I cut the camera feeds,” Sejin says in a defeated tone, “the show is officially off-air for technical difficulties. You can do what you want here while you wait - hell, you can leave if you want, just please be prepared to come back on the Sunday. We’ll have a discussion about whether Yoongi can return, and what we’ll do if he doesn’t. Understood?”

“Understood,” Namjoon offers up for the group, and the producer leaves with another sigh and an attempt at a comforting smile. You can’t help but feel bad for him, working such an emotionally draining job, especially when you’ve heard nothing but bad things about his employer.

Once the room falls into quiet again, Jin stands up, chair legs scraping against the floor. “Okay, I think we should decide as a group what we’re wanting to do. Stay or go?”

You open your mouth to give your two cents, but before you can, Jungkook suddenly chokes on a sob and covers his face with his hands, Jimin immediately scooting his chair closer to wrap an arm around his shaking shoulders.

“Hey, what is it?” Jimin asks quietly, but the room is so silent that you all catch it. “Talk to me, bun. What is it?”

Jungkook takes a few stuttering breaths to compose himself, sniffling. “I don’t want you all to leave too,” he confesses, Jimin’s thumb catching a tear dangling on the tip of his nose, “isn’t Yoongi-hyung enough?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” the elder promises, pressing a kiss into his hairline before looking up at the rest of you, eyes widening intentionally. “We’ll stick together through this until he comes back, yeah? It’s not all bad. The cameras are off, remember? We can have a break now, we don’t need to worry about the show. Isn’t that nice?”

After a moment’s considering, Jungkook nods slowly. “‘t is nice,” he admits begrudgingly. “But only if everyone stays.”

You can’t help but smile fondly, getting up yourself to come behind him, stroking his hair back. “We’ll stay, of course we’ll stay. Let’s spend some time together tonight, we can put on a movie and snuggle, how about that?”

He perks up at the thought of this, glancing around the table as the others nod in affirmation. “I’ll bring down the blankets,” he bargains, cracking a small smile, and the rest of the room relaxes, immediately bursting into sound as everyone arranges the necessary supplies for a good quality movie night, almost back to normal.

Jungkook, as the member of the Villa in most urgent need of a pick-me-up, is given movie choosing privileges, so the seven of you tuck in for a rewatch of his favourite Spiderman movies, perhaps the only thing that can keep him glued to the screen.

At first, the absence feels overwhelming to you. Try as you might through the opening sequence, you can’t shake it. Your mind counts heads without thinking, keeps looking at the space on the couch where Yoongi liked to put his feet up. Even though you know it’s his father who is unwell, not him, there’s the sick swelling in your stomach that makes you feel like his departure is final, and shortly after the title card plays out, you’re quietly excusing yourself and stumbling to the back door, in desperate need of fresh air.

It’s cold outside, a brisk wind cutting through you. You barely make it around the corner out of sight before your legs buckle, and you let yourself fall into a pathetic crouch, your weight propped up against the side of the house as you try to suck the chilled air into your lungs.

The panic creeps up on you in swells, the irrational fear that Yoongi would leave the show and you’d never see him again and everything would fall apart suddenly feeling like a whole tsunami crashing against you. Your fingers claw at the exterior wall as you fall back onto your behind, unable to even keep yourself in a crouch.

More so than the intrusive thoughts, it’s the image of Yoongi’s face falling, of him rushing out of the house in frantic distress that replays in your mind and leaves you suffocating. He looked so scared, your calm, reliable Yoongi. He was like a pillar, but that news was a fell swoop he couldn’t stay strong against. Your heart burns for him, cramping and aching in your chest.

For a moment, you picture yourself staying out here, gasping for breath until the sun goes down. You feel alone, more than ever since coming here, and even as the thought spooks you, there’s no energy in your body to do anything about it.

Just as your breaths start to sound more like death rattles and you curl your face towards the ground, a warmth envelopes your back, arms circling your middle and lifting you up.

“Hey, breathe, breathe with me, Y/n. I’m here.”

You recognise the voice. You recognise the built torso holding you steady, but your mind isn’t putting the pieces together, and so you simply squeeze your eyes shut and allow yourself to be maneuvered around there are hands on your face and a deep voice instructing you to look at me. I’m here; look at me.

You crack your eyes open, body heaving with the effort it takes to get any oxygen in your lungs, but you’re met with the soulful brown eyes of Kim Namjoon, narrowed in concern.

His hands are warm despite the frigid air outside, and you let yourself melt into him, eyes sinking to watch his lips mouth instructions, demonstrating exaggerated breathing for you to follow.

You feel distinctly like you might vomit, but you force yourself to match his breaths. The shuddering in and stilted out aren’t as fluid as his, but slowly your heart doesn’t thud in your ears and your body doesn’t shake as violently.

You feel damp, sweating all over, and your whole body aches, but your hearing begins to properly tune in again, coherence creeping back. “Na-Namjoon,” you gasp, wishing you had the energy to grab his arms or hug him or something other than lying limp against the wall of the house.

“Shh, hey, don’t strain yourself. Take it easy. I’m here.” He’s crouching in front of you, eyes locked onto you as he continues to hold you steady, jaw kept aloft by his hands. “Keep breathing, and it’ll go away. It’s a panic attack, I’ve had my fair share. You’ll come right.”

Trusting him despite the persisting burn in your chest, you let him coach your breathing for several more minutes, the heightened air influx making your head go light and floaty.

Once a counted breath turns into a yawn of exhaustion, you know the worst has passed. It leaves you boneless, not a single ounce of power left in your muscles, but you can breathe again, and it’s all thanks to the man across from you.

“I’ve never had one before,” you manage, voice cracking, “not like that.”

Namjoon’s lips press together in sympathy, and he turns to prop himself against the side of the house beside you, letting you continue breathing independently. “Is it Yoongi-hyung?”

You nod weakly, and the academic hums in confirmation. “I used to get panic attacks a lot in university. I used to hate them, thought they meant I was weak. Like I couldn’t handle the pressure as much as I thought I could. But, you know, these days I just figure I’m only panicking because it means so much to me. And I don’t think that makes me weak at all. It just means I care. Don’t feel ashamed about this, Y/n. All it means is that you care about hyung a lot.”

All the breath in your lungs leaves you in one rush as you prop your head in your hands, knees tucked towards your chest. “Yeah.” You wish you had something more appreciative to say, but your mind is waterlogged, weighed down and not functioning.

Namjoon doesn’t seem to mind the curt response. “I care about him a lot too. He’s like the glue for us, isn’t he? I’m worried to fall apart without him here keeping us in line. But we survived before we knew him and we’ll survive now. What’s better is supporting each other and waiting to see how we can support Yoongi-hyung, too.”

“You’re right,” you admit with a heavy breath, wiggling your toes to will energy back into them. “We’ll be okay.”

Namjoon bends sideways to bump your shoulder warmly. “That’s the spirit. Now; I’m happy to stay out here as long as you need, but Jungkook was the first one to notice you had been gone for a while, and I think he’s probably getting concerned by now. If you’re up to it, I can give you a hand to get inside and join the others again. What do you reckon?”

You lean your head back against the wall, taking a moment to consider. “What movie is he putting on next?”

“He mentioned wanting to check out Paw Patrol on Netflix.”

“Let me die out here,” you plead weakly.

Namjoon laughs, the sound like comfort itself, and stands up, offering you a hand. “Come on, kitten, up we get.”

In the end, the Netflix viewings manage to distract you for the rest of the night. When your limbs are tangled together and snacks are flowing, it’s easy to tune out of reality a bit and focus on the television screen in the comfort of shared company. Jungkook clears space on the couch for you the second you return, and clings to you for hours, his chin on your shoulder. You don’t complain, feeling soothed by the physical closeness. But the hours pass, and when the majority of you can no longer hold in your yawns, Seokjin gets up to turn the lights back on and clean up.

“Let’s get some rest,” he decides, and it’s that return to the real world that immediately dampens the atmosphere again, the group of you turning solemn. You pause to pull out your phone, sending Yoongi a quick message of support, and that you all missed him already, but no reply comes.

Without words being spoken, the seven of you remaining find yourselves flocking together as you make your way up to bed. Jin flanks the maknae as Namjoon and Hoseok lean heavily into each other, the four of them disappearing into Jin’s room. You naturally fall into step with the remaining two men, Taehyung linking his arm into yours and holding you close all the way to Jimin’s room.

Somehow, the house is too quiet. Even though Yoongi wasn’t a particularly noisy housemate, his absence cloaks the air.

You have no energy to shower. Washing your face is as much as you can manage, and Taehyung is even more despairing than you are, slumped on the toilet seat as Jimin cleans his face for him.

The uncertainty is what makes your heart flutter on edge, unable to wind down, and you know from the restrained looks of fear and distress in the guys’ eyes that they feel the same. The show would be undoubtably ruined if Yoongi couldn’t return. But more important than that, Yoongi would be ruined if he lost his father so suddenly.

Knowing Yoongi is hurting makes you ache, and you cling to your lovers like they’re your anchors in a churning sea, tucking your face firmly into Taehyung’s shoulder. It soothes you a little to be pinned between them, but the three of you still lie awake as the minutes blink by agonisingly slow.

At some point, you must fall into a fitful sleep, because when a sudden noise fills the room, it rouses you aggressively, and you almost kick Jimin’s shin in the process. Grunting, the half-asleep man rubs his face and twists around, fumbling on the nightstand for the offending noise.

It’s Taehyung’s phone, vibrating against the wooden table, and once Jimin blinks twice at the glaring screen he gasps and yanks the charger out, sitting up in bed. “It’s hyung,” he declares in a voice more vulnerable than you’d ever heard from him before. “Wake Tae.”

You force yourself to dispel those last few wisps of sleep from your brain, and gently shake Taehyung awake. According to the clock on the nightstand, it’s almost two in the morning, but your heart leaps as Yoongi’s face fills the phone screen, looking right at the three of you.

“I thought you would be together,” he states with a rueful smile, though you can see that it doesn’t quite reach his reddened eyes. “Sorry for calling so late.”

“Don’t apologise, hyung,” Taehyung whines, half of his weight on you as he leans in close, “we were so worried about you. How’s your dad?”

Yoongi’s brows furrow beneath mussed hair. “Not great,” he admits. “A little more stable, at least, but he’s pretty confused right now. Nurses worry that it might have affected his brain.”

Your heart sinks, both at the thought of a relatively young man suffering such awful health complications, but also at how Yoongi was trying to hide his exhaustion and distress. “Oh my god.”

“Mm, we should know soon what the damage is,” Yoongi explains further, rubbing his eyes with the hand not holding his phone aloft, “and if he’s alright I can head back h- head back to the Villa. He’s just been sleeping a lot today so… We don’t really know how he’ll be until he’s conscious for enough time. Yoonji’s with him at the moment, I just wanted to duck out and give you guys an update. Where are the others?”

“Jin-hyung’s room,” Jimin answers, even as he’s throwing back the covers. “They’ll want to hear from you themselves, just hold on a minute.”

You hear Yoongi’s voice echoing from the phone and strain to make out his words as Jimin heads to the door. “No, no, don’t wake them. I actually wanted to ask if you’d like to come visit? Of course none of you know my dad, and he doesn’t know you, but- Well, Yoonji and I could do with some company.”

You jump up, rushing to Jimin’s side. As he naturally accommodates your presence and pulls you flush against him, you lift your face up to the phone. “We’ll be there,” you assure Yoongi, “just please get some rest tonight. It’s been a rough day.”

Yoongi’s pained smile breaks your heart, and Jimin leads the phone back to the bed so that Taehyung can say a final goodbye before the three of you hang up and crawl, exhausted but somewhat relieved, back into bed.

[lovingjeankirstein]

being josuke higashikata’s sibling headcanons

here’s another platonic hc bc i love this idea smmm

CW: me cursing a few times and mentions of (argument) fights.

ALSO I STILL HAVE TO GOOGLE JOSUKE’S LAST NAME BC I CAN’T SPELL IT FOR SHIT

gn! reader. enjoy <3

okay this is gonna be general sibling hc, but i’m headcanon-ing that your age gap is 1-2 years so you’ll be in the same schools at the same time.

rohan getting a huge ass headache bc there’s two higashikatas in the group 💀

(he favors you more than josuke tho bc you’re more tolerable)

you obviously don’t spend all your time with the duwang gang, bc you in josuke are separate people with separate lives, but you spend a lot of time with them nonetheless.

OKUYASU DEFINITELY HAD A CRUSH ON YOU

“dude!! your mom AND your sibling are hot! what happened to you?”

“STOP CRUSHING ON MY SIBLING AND MY MOM YOU WEIRDO”

josuke is so protective over you no matter if you’re older or younger than him, and vice versa.

if his hair is just NOT COOPERATING some days he’ll let you help him out

fights over little things almost every day

but you guys always make up at the end of the day bc you love each other 🙄🤚🏼

wait bc i feel like you guys will have meme wars AHAHAHAH

koichi loves your company and you’re mutual! you guys like to talk about anything going on in your lives and just general things

he’ll ask for advice on some things like yukako for a different point of view

the smarter sibling (academically)

but when you’re with josuke you have no brain cells

he still asks for help with school and steals your notes tho

jotaro will be surprised he has a sibling and think jiji had SECRET TWINS INSTEAD OF JUST JOSUKE

but you aren’t so it’s okay

except now he has another aunt/uncle younger than him so he’s like 😐

just like his bond with josuke, you guys get along too so it’s all cool

josuke would confide in you about his feelings about meeting joseph and you’ll be there to listen and talk to him about it

there was a lot of emotions for him when he first met him so you help him keep cool and adjust which he deeply appreciates

when joseph meets you he’s like “are you my child too :0”

and you’re like NO DW YOU ONLY HAD THIS IDIOT

OMG IF YOU ASK HIM TO FIX SOMETHING FOR YOU SOMETIMES HE’D ASK YOU DO HIS CHORES IN RETURN PLS

watching him play games/playing games together just to be in each other’s company

if you get a date with someone, okuyasu will be crying he’d try to act like the cool, tough, brother but probably break his “demeanor” after the second day of knowing them

doesn’t mean he won’t still smash them to bits if they play you tho.

you guys share snacks together but he’ll block the opening of the snacks to mess with you

ALSO PRANK WARS (just don’t mess with his hair or he’ll be genuinely mad at you. not too extremely but really mad)

during times he gets you genuinely mad he’ll buy you lunch and let you beat him in games

if you get him mad, you’ll do some chores for him and get a new product he likes to put in his hair.

HIS STAND AND YOUR STAND ACT JUST LIKE YOU GUYS BUT MORE MATURED VERSIONS SO THEY ALWAYS MAKE YOU GUYS APOLOGIZE AND MAKE UP

both stands would do nice things for the other sibling and together bc they’re so chill

your stands would play fight sometimes if they’re bored

“OI JOSUKE TELL CRAZY DIAMOND TO STOP PUNCHING (stand’s name) GUT”

“THEN TELL (stand’s name) TO STOP MESSING WITH CRAZY DIAMOND”

no matter what petty arguments you have, or if you barely saw each other somedays, you still love each other as siblings and would do anything for each other.

LOWK MIGHT DO AN OKUYASU X READER HC AS JOSUKES SIBLING BC THAT SHITS SO FUNNY

update! find that headcanon post here

i hope this was good! i don’t have siblings but i hope this was accurate for sibling experience and for his character in general 😣

jjba masterlist

[redgokus]

ok so... a very intense and angry argument turns into a very heated make out session hc with the pillars (that you write for, ofc!!) 👀😳

A/N: my third time trying to write this request lets hope it works this time lmao. I did not include Mitsuri this time because i was burnt out and i couldnt think of a scenario for her </3

Song of the Day: The Curse / Agnes Obel

Kyojurou ☆

Arguing with Kyojurou is hardly common, especially to an intense degree. The worst it gets to is slightly heated bickering, but still not actual mad arguments with any pointing, accusations, yelling, all that. He knows when to leave a conversation when it’s no longer productive, and to come back to it with a clear head to talk it out civilly.

So if anyone’s going to spur this argument, it’ll probably be you

Kyojurou wouldn’t be pleased at all to be fighting with you- he’s fairly practiced in hiding his displeasure when people are angry with him, but it’s different with you. Simply put, he’s surprised that you’re fighting like this at all, and it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth that he really doesn’t like

So I think it’s Kyojurou who rushes forward and kisses you while you’re in the middle of saying something-

Because truthfully, he’d just want it to stop. He doesn’t want to fight anymore, but he doesn’t want you to be upset, either. He kisses you as he lacks any other better ideas and he’s somewhat desperate

He’s lucky that you kiss him back at all because he’s honestly taken aback by his own actions enough that he wasn’t expecting you to reciprocate. But you do more than reciprocate- you wrap your arms around his shoulders, forcing him closer as your hands weave into his hair and pull.

And now the two of you are playing an entirely different game as you vent out all of your frustrations into kissing Kyojurou, and Kyojurou lets you. It’s honestly very hot in a way that he would have never expected?

When you finally break for air, seeming to have calmed down a bit- Kyojurou still wants to solve the issue and he wants to work out what you were mad about. But now he has a different ‘issue’ and it’s hard to think critically

He urges you to keep kissing him, and why would you say no?

Giyuu ☆

Giyuu tends to avoid fights like Kyojurou does; but the way he tries to avoid all conflict and in general lengthy discussions is what spurs on arguments to begin with

His quiet behavior is charming at times, but irritating during others. Especially when you’re wanting to hear his genuine opinion or thoughts about a serious topic and he won’t really indulge you with an answer 

Your fights are hardly explosive, but they can get passive aggressive, I’d imagine

If anyone’s going to initiate a heated, angry makeout between the two of you, it’d most likely be you 

Giyuu would never think to make out with you during an argument, so once you suddenly jump on him, he’d definitely be taken aback by your change of behavior 

But he’d also be quick to adapt. This is much better than what you were doing before, after all- so he’ll let you kiss him all you want as he bites your lip and gives you a bit of pushback just because Giyuu can be a bit of a brat like that 

If you were to stop kissing at any point, he’d secretly be pretty disappointed but he wouldn’t keep you going. But he might try if you bring up the tense subject again, because he just really does Not want to argue with you

And if kissing you solves that, then good. Or he might just scuttle away instead until you’ve calmed down

Tengen ☆

Oh boy. Yum!

I’ve mentioned it before but fighting with Tengen isn’t necessarily uncommon. It’s often spurred by his tendency to unintentionally gaslight or play off some of your concerns

So fighting can happen every once in awhile with Tengen. And I don’t think taking out your frustrations through physical activities is uncommon, either, lmao 

Saying that though, I don’t mean to say Tengen is a total dick. He has the capability of being one, but Tengen is also self aware of his actions. He knows when he’s crossed a line, he knows when to apologize, and when he should fix himself up so he can be better for you 

A good guy

That being said. The making out part

Either of you could start the making out, honestly. Probably both of you. Who knows? One minute, you’re arguing, the next you’re tugging each other out of your clothes  

Tengen’s definitely not against making out or having sex to smooth over arguments. This is what he’s good at.

It’s after the making out and potential love making that the argument is really naturally solved, but Tengen is a good lover and he won’t just assume that things are fine now that you’ve gotten physical 

He’ll check if you’re feeling better and really, most of your arguments get solved during pillow talk 

Shinobu ☆

ougnghghgn ladie... step on me

Like Kyojurou, the two of you tend to bicker more than fight. But I’d also say she’s similar to Tengen as well where fights definitely have the capability of happening more often than they would with Kyojurou 

She’s a feisty woman, and she’s also hard to read at times. This can lead to miscommunications or unattractive reactions that make both of you tangle a bit

Fighting with Shinobu can definitely be a tense event. It’s hardly pleasant and of course, neither of you like fighting, so you both try to ignore it as much as you can. But things tend to happen every once in awhile 

Shinobu has the mindset of where if you’re fighting, she wants to Win the Fight. She doesn’t like being wrong, so if she realizes she was in the wrong, I think she tends to panic a bit. Of course, she’s not above admitting her faults, but she definitely doesn’t like doing it. Especially with you

So it’d be during one of these times where she was in the wrong during an argument that she’d shut you up by kissing you, hurried and hot. Despite her size, she nearly knocks you over from her insistent hands

It’s rather obvious what she’s trying to do. 

But you should play along! She’ll apologize later to you, this is something I promise. In the meantime, let her distract you with her dizzying kisses 

Both of you hardly have heated makeouts like this, so this would be a rare occurrence that you don’t want to let go of. 

[ot7always]

Yes, Sir

Word Count: 4.1k

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Enemies to Lovers AU, smut, fluff

Warnings: dom!Yoongi, sub!Reader, sir kink, degradation, choking, hair pulling, spanking (hand and belt), dirty talk, unprotected sex, overstimulation, spit kink, squirting, aftercare

Rating: 18+

Summary:  After being promoted to head of another department, you thought your days of needing to deal with Yoongi were over. As it turns out, you were wrong. He still loves to hold his experience over your head, despite no longer being your boss. Let’s just say, after all the times he’s had your blood pressure through the roof, you really did not expect to end up back under him.

A/N: This fic was commissioned by the lovely @meowxyoong for @ficswithluv’s ChangesWithLuv project to raise money for the Black Lives Matter movement, as well as other movements supporting the Black community. Please check it out if you haven’t already! I hope it lives up to your expectations!

Lastly, huge thank you to @wwilloww who beta-read this for me yesterday and gave me tons of useful feedback!! Also tagging @dee-ehn so we can thirst together.

Masterlist

--

Yoongi, head of Marketing. You, head of Sales.

It’s almost like Romeo and Juliet.

Fitting, because you really wanted nothing more than to throttle him.

That’s how the story goes, right?

--

Min Yoongi had to be the devil incarnate. There was no other explanation for the emotional turmoil he put you through each day. While he’d never been outright mean to you, the perceptive asshole knew exactly what to say to push your buttons, despite having no recollection of ever deserving such a thing. It was torture.

You’d worked closely with him for three years before getting promoted, moving from Marketing to Sales. At first, you enjoyed his presence. He mentored you kindly yet sternly, and who wouldn’t want to be mentored by someone who looked like that? But you should have known it was too good to be true. It only took months before he became a constant thorn in your side.

--

Summoned into his office towards the end of the workday, you shut the door behind you as you moved to stand in front of his desk, hands clasped at your front. You eyed your boss, glasses perched on his nose as he flipped through the analysis you’d submitted that morning. You’d worked hard on it for weeks, determined to set yourself apart from your peers. You were confident that it showed in the completed product.

“Sir?” you called out to him after he failed to raise his eyes from the sheets.

“A little long, don’t you think?” he drawled without looking up. You couldn’t tell whether he was unhappy with that fact.

“I was just trying to be thorough, sir…” your voice trailed off, suddenly insecure about the very thing you were so confident about only hours ago.

“If I didn’t know any better, I would say you were trying to impress me,” he smirked, dark eyes finally meeting your gaze. You balked at the statement, unsure if your blood was boiling out of embarrassment or vexation.

“Just doing my job, sir,” you stated, voice clipped. Why were you here? Just so he could tease you? If you weren’t trying to keep a favourable relationship with the higher-ups you would question him about his professionalism.

He continued staring at you for what felt like a lifetime. You shifted on your feet, face hot but determined not to be the first to look away.

Finally ending this strange pseudo-staredown, Yoongi flipped your report shut and placed it in the corner of his desk. The prolonged silence had you feeling a bit dazed.

“It’s good. Thank you. You can go,” he declared abruptly, spinning around on his chair, effectively cutting short any response you may have had.

Brows furrowing in indignation, you spun around on your heel and made your way out of his office, forgoing any attempt to shut the door quietly.

Asshole.

--

Sitting at your desk after a long day of meetings, you yearned for nothing more than a long, hot shower. Things at work had been crazy lately, the company organizing a large collaborative ad campaign that had you working extra hours everyday. It was extra exhausting considering you always had to sit through senior staff meetings with Yoongi, who loved to ask you questions he already had the answers to as if to trip you up.

Quickly organizing your desk before you planned to leave for the night, loose sheets scattering around had you sighing lightly to yourself. Stapler, stapler, stapler…

No stapler.

Are you serious? You swore you literally saw it on your desk this morning –

Yoongi. That bastard always loved to take your stuff, seemingly enjoying the chase of having you hunt him down and demand he return it to you. Well, you really weren’t in the mood for that today. You’d already been in the office for 10 hours, and you really just wanted to go home. Mouth set in a firm line, you set out to march your way straight into his office, only down the hall from your own.

Bursting into the room, you were startled to see him still sitting at his desk, typing away at something furiously despite your interruption.

“Yes?” he inquired, amusement lacing his tone as he raised a brow at you. He pissed you off, but did he have to look so good doing it?

“You know what I want,” you said bitterly, eyes lighting with barely-concealed anger as you spotted your stapler on his desk. Quickly stepping up to grab it, you were taken aback when his hand reached out to halt your motion, fingers gripping around your wrist.

“Excuse me,” you huffed, appalled at his actions. Sure, he loved to tease you, but he didn’t usually opt to touch you like this. Reaching forward to snatch it with your other hand, your fury grew exponentially as he grasped your other wrist too.

“What do you think you’re doing?” you snapped, irritation crystal clear in your voice. Glancing up to meet his gaze, what you saw there was dark, staring into you with unparalleled intensity. That look accompanied by the fact that your wrists were still in his grasp had your breath quickening slightly, butterflies churning in your stomach. You tried to pull away, but he must be stronger than he looks because you couldn’t move an inch.

“Sweetheart,” he pouted, but the hardness in his gaze made it evident that it was definitely for show. “I miss the days when you treated me with a lot more respect.”

Confusion washed over you then. Since when did you not treat him with respect? Sure, you could be a bit brusque, but you couldn’t recall any time where you spoke to him any worse than he spoke to you. Frowning, you opened your mouth to question his statement, but he continued before you could speak.

“’Yes sir,’ ‘no sir,’ ‘yes please.’ You were so adorable back then,” he reminisced, head tipping back to look at the ceiling. “I think about it a lot.” He returned his vision to your face, reading you as he begun stroking the soft skin of your wrists with his thumbs. “You were such a good girl for me before,” he murmured lowly, eyes full of hunger.

Your eyes widened in shock. Surely you misheard. He couldn’t be stood here telling you he fantasized about you, right? …Right? Your heart felt like it was about to leap out of your throat. You couldn’t deny that you’d done the same once or twice… or more… but that was just your horny brain talking. Not your rational one.

“Tell me you want this as much as I do,” he implored, an ounce of insecurity somewhere deep in his voice. You didn’t know what to say. How were you meant to process something like this? This is definitely not how you planned for this encounter to go, and you simply stared at him, disbelief colouring your features. You dropped your gaze to his hands still clasped onto you. Yes, you wanted him, but how would this affect your professional relationship? How could you sit through meetings next to him if all you could think about was him inside you?

Taking your silence as answer, he dropped your hands and backed away as if he had been burned. “Sorry, I thought – I just,” he stuttered out, nervousness and shame evident despite his previous actions. “Sorry, I don’t know what possessed me-”

“Yes,” you blurted out, unthinking, bending forward over his desk to grip at his hands. Curse your horny brain. “I do want it,” you pleaded, searching his eyes for the desire that was present only moments ago. As if a switch was flipped, his expression became ice cold. Yanking you forward by your arms, you gave a surprised yelp as he pulled you as close to him as possible, your hipbones digging painfully into the edge of his desk.

“What was that?” he growled, the animalistic sound sending a wave of arousal through you. You gritted your teeth, determined not to give into him so easily. Not a patient man today, Yoongi’s right hand whipped out to place itself at your neck. At its presence you let out a low moan, leaning your head back to bare your throat to him.

“Thought about this, have you?” he chuckled darkly, thumb stroking up your jaw. You shuddered at the touch, teeth biting into your bottom lip in anticipation.

“I may have,” you mumbled, desire replacing any shame you might have felt at admitting your fantasies. At your words, the grip at either side of your throat tightened, squeezing just enough that you struggled to take in air. The brutal action sent a new rush of wetness to your panties, but you continued to hold his stare.

“You know what I want,” he taunted, mockingly using the exact words you’d so assuredly said to him earlier. His hand tightened its hold slightly, your eyes fluttering shut as you attempted to hold back a moan at the situation you’d gotten yourself into. You could not, however, say you weren’t enjoying it. Realizing there was no way he would let up on you, a minute later you finally relented, desperate for his touch elsewhere.

“I want it, sir,” you gasped out, struggling to catch yourself on the desk as he suddenly released you. Bent almost 90-degrees over his desk, you worked to catch your breath, papers and other supplies digging into your chest. Glancing up, you found Yoongi smirking down at you, hands in his pockets as his eyes swept over the sight of you prone across his workspace.

“Stay just like that, princess,” he uttered lowly, your walls clenching around nothing at the name. He circled around to the other side of the desk until he was no longer visible, standing somewhere behind you. About to stand up so that you could see him properly, your breath huffed out of you in surprise when a hand harshly shoved your chest back into his desk. Your struggle against his strength was fruitless.

He used his other hand to yank your skirt up over your ass, exposing the lacy tops of your stockings and your black thong. Part of you was grateful at the dark colour, hoping the arousal already pooled there wasn’t visible to him behind you. He groaned at the sight.

“You mean to tell me you come to work dressed like this and don’t expect to be fucked like a filthy whore?” he jeered, hand tracing over the curve of your ass. You shivered at the touch, pushing back into it ever-so-slightly. The unexpected harsh sting of that same hand delivering a cruel blow to your left asscheek had you quivering.

“Such a bad girl,” he tutted, rubbing at where he had hit you before delivering an even harder smack to your other asscheek. The sensation burned, but the fire of your heat only grew with each passing moment. Hitting you again and again, your mind became unable to focus on anything besides his actions, moaning out as his next hit was dealt closer to your thigh, the ache heavy but so, so good.

“Say it,” he ordered, tone leaving no room for argument. Though, it felt as though with every blow your ability to argue left you, slowly but surely. Seems like your rational brain left for the night, you thought. Obviously unhappy that your focus was no longer on him, his ruthless hand made contact with your cunt  instead, tears springing to your eyes.

“I won’t ask you again,” he cautioned, and it was at that point you decided to throw your pride away. As you’d already said, you wanted this, and like hell if you were going to ruin it now.

“I’m a bad girl, sir,” you whispered, but thankfully it seemed that was enough to appease him.

“And bad girls get punished, don’t they?”

“Yes, sir,” you breathed out, face hot. Despite your embarrassment, you don’t think you’ve ever been this turned on. Your panties were pulled down to your thighs, and you resisted the urge to try to hide.

At the sight of your folds glistening with arousal, Yoongi let out a moan as he roughly dragged his thumb across you, spreading the wetness. The touch had you moaning out, desperate to press back into him if not for the hand holding you down.

“This needy little cunt is sopping already. You like it rough, don’t you?” he goaded before abruptly sticking his thumb inside you. You whined at the contact, walls gripping at his finger, wanting more of him to fill you up.

“Please, sir…” you begged, moaning wantonly at his slow, unsatisfying movements.

“What was that?” he chuckled, removing his thumb to replace it with two of his fingers, scissoring apart and thrusting roughly.

“Fuck me,” you pleaded, overcome by pleasure, needing so badly to be stretched by a cock instead of his hands. When he pulled away from you entirely, you whined out.

“Such a needy little slut, aren’t you?” he sneered, “You haven’t even gotten your punishment yet and you think you deserve to get fucked?” He unbuckled his belt, pulling it out of his pants and doubling it within his grasp. You jumped at the feeling of the cool leather stroking your ass gently, swatting lightly as if to test the motion.

“This is for every time you’ve ever talked back to me. Every time you’ve turned me on with your tight ass blouses and tiny skirts. You drive me absolutely insane,” he barbed, “Five on each side and you’ll get rewarded. ‘Red’ if you need to stop, ‘yellow’ if you need me to ease up. Repeat it back to me.”

“Red to stop, yellow to ease up,” you panted, squeaking when a hand came down on your ass.

“Sorry, I don’t know who you’re speaking to,” he berated, part of you cursing your slip-up after doing well for so long.

“I – Sorry, sir,” you stammered, eager to please him so that you could get what came next. At your words, the belt came down on your left asscheek, and though the force behind it was weak, it was the loud noise of leather on skin that startled you. After giving you another of the same intensity, you almost thought he was going soft on you. Boy, were you wrong.

Satisfied with your reactions thus far, the belt came down harder, reaching the same strength as Yoongi’s hand earlier. Compared to his palms, though, the impact of the belt felt so much deeper, the pain radiating from the hit leaving you trembling. Two smacks of the belt hit you mercilessly in quick succession, causing you to cry out, only remaining standing thanks to the desk supporting your upper body. Your ass felt like it was on fire, but you could feel your arousal running along your inner thighs. You were sure if he thrust into you right now you would be more than ready to take him.

When he hit you again in the same spot even harder than before, tears sprung to your eyes. Your breath was coming out in pants, but you knew this would all be worth it in the end. Another two hits on the opposite cheek had you choking out a moan. You went limp, body instinctively wanting to curl away from the source of pain but the edge of the desk digging into your hips reminded you that such a thing wasn’t possible in your position.

“One more. Can you take it?” he inquired, taking in the shaking of your body and your loud gasps for air. One more. Despite the overwhelming sensation of pain radiating through you, you knew you could do it. You knew you wanted nothing more than the pleasure that followed. You nodded frantically.

“Yes, sir,” you gasped out, bracing yourself for a hit that never came. You burrowed your brow. Several more seconds passed, and you wondered whether he changed his mind. You should have known he was too cruel for that.

Just as you had let your guard down, the hit came, hard and unpitying. You let out a squeak, breath catching in your throat. Relief at your punishment being over quickly made its way to anticipation at the sound of the belt hitting the floor.

“You took it so well,” he cooed, “Are you gonna be a good little whore for me and take my cock too?” You moaned at his words, whimpering when you felt three fingers enter your dripping hole.

“I was gonna take the time to stretch you out, but it seems like this needy little cunt is ready for me already,” he snickered before removing his fingers. He sunk other hand into your hair, harshly yanking your head up and shoving his fingers into your mouth when you gasped. You sucked on what you could as he pressed his fingers as far as was possible, smirking when you gagged around him.

“Fuck, that’s a pretty sight…” he said wistfully, “Maybe next time I’ll stuff this pretty mouth.”

Removing his hand from you, he moved to unzip his pants, pulling them down just enough to remove his cock, slicking himself against your folds. When he started pushing into you slowly, you wanted so badly to thrust yourself back on him, but a firm hand held you down at the hips. His painfully slow pace had you whimpering for more.

“Please, sir, I need it,” you cried, desperate for the friction of him inside you. You couldn’t feel shame anymore, could only feel him fucking you, but you needed more.

“Your little cunt wants to be pounded, huh?” he growled, suddenly shoving himself all the way inside and starting up a brutal pace. “Just remember you asked for it even though I tried to ease you into it,” he said, punctuating his words with cruel, deep thrusts that left you reeling. His roughness left your mind blank, and you swore you could feel him in your stomach. All you could do was lay there open-mouthed, small moans and whines making their way freely from your mouth.

“You don’t seem to be talking back now, do you? I’m going to fuck you so dumb you won’t be able to say anything, you little whore.” True to his words, you couldn’t even form a coherent thought as he was pounding into you, your walls clenching around him as cries left your lips.

Suddenly, hands pulled you up so that your back moulded against his chest, one hand holding you up at the waist, the other wrapped around your throat. He squeezed in time with every thrust of his hips, and you felt utterly boneless in his grasp. Feeling lightheaded, you surrendered yourself entirely to his hands and his cock, mindless except for the feeling of him. After being wound up so long, you were already so close to falling over the edge, walls squeezing tighter and tighter as you approached your end.

“Gonna cum for me already, hm? Do you think I can’t feel this pussy gripping me for all it’s worth? Well, go on, cum for me then,” he commanded, hand around your waist moving to rub mercilessly at your clit. At the sudden onslaught of pleasure, you cried out loudly as the orgasm hit you in waves, Yoongi’s thrusts never pausing. When his strokes continued, your moans became laced with pain, cunt too sore to take the beating he was giving you.

When he pulled out of you abruptly, you thought it was over, but he turned you around quickly, seating you on his desk and sliding back into you without missing a beat. You whined at the stretch to your sore walls, but the sight of his face contorted in pleasure, teeth biting into his bottom lip as he thrusted against you had you thankful. You were moaning shamelessly, head tilted up to admire his features when his hand reached up to squeeze at your jaw, forcing it to open to relieve the pain.

When he pulled his own face close to yours, you didn’t know what you were expecting, but it definitely wasn’t him spitting in your mouth, saliva hitting your tongue. You stared up at him wide-eyed, mouth only closing when he pushed your chin upwards.

“Swallow,” he demanded gruffly, eyes looking like they were going to devour you whole. A shiver went up your spine at possessive action, following his instructions and sticking your tongue out to show him once you were done. The moan you received in return was loud, thrusts quickening to further chase his pleasure.

“Such a good little whore for me, you’re getting better at following instructions,” he grunted out, pulling you forward to change the angle. With each thrust he was rubbing against that spongy spot inside of you, your head falling back as you let the sensation run over you.

The wave snuck up on you again, his thrusts relentless, the grinding of his pelvis against your clit every so often had your eyes rolling back. You were so sore, but it felt too good to stop. As he changed to shallow thrusts that had him only grinding against you, you felt that intense tightness in your abdomen. As he alternated between thrusting shallowly against your g-spot and slamming all the way in to grind against you, you shook in his hold, unable to catch your breath before another rush of pleasure had you weak.

Just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, the release you felt was immaculate. Walls pulsing with seemingly no end, your orgasm left you seeing stars, all the tension in  your body gone in exchange for mind-numbing bliss.

Your heat clenching around him had Yoongi groaning lowly, thrusts shallow and sloppy as he felt his own end approach. When he looked down and spotted the wet spots on the stomach of his button-up shirt, his mind blanked. Shoving himself all the way inside, he muffled his moans into your neck as he came.

You let out a small mewl when he pulled out of you, the day’s exhaustion hitting you all at once. He hushed you, guiding your body down to the floor to rest against his desk, disappearing momentarily as you shut your eyes. Returning with wet paper towels, he dabbed lightly at your inner thighs and between your legs.

Eyelids fluttering open as you felt a hand in your hair, tired eyes met concerned ones as Yoongi inspected you from head to toe. “You okay?” he asked simply, hands moving to fix your misplaced panties and skirt. You nodded despite your fatigue, pausing when you spotted wet spots on Yoongi’s shirt. No way –

“You squirted,” he smirked, looking satisfied with himself, the devil in him returning for just a moment. At the confirmation, your face felt hot, your hands moving to hide as if that would quell your embarrassment.

“Hey,” he called softly, hands pulling your own away, “Don’t be embarrassed. It was hot. I like making you feel good,” he said. His words brought a small smile to your face, though you still couldn’t help but to feel a bit shy.

“Have you done something like this before?” he questioned, any judgment absent from his voice. You assumed he meant the spanking, the belt, the… everything, you guessed. Shaking your head in denial, he smiled gently at you.

“Will you come home with me?” he asked, watching you closely to gauge your reaction. His question had you pausing. Home? With him?

“Why?” you responded, wariness clear in your tone. He couldn’t blame you for your disbelief. After all, it wasn’t normal for someone to spend all his time teasing you, then suddenly fuck you into next year, then ask you home.

“I want to make sure you’re okay. And I wanted to cook you dinner. And I was hoping you would stay and talk. Please?” he urged you, gaze imploring. While you were sure this wouldn’t instantly fix the irritation you’d had with him all this time, he really did seem sincere. And you honestly weren’t sure if you could walk on your own anyway. If anything, this seemed like a good first step to repairing your relationship.

Of course, sex would be the thing to fix your despise for this man, you thought. Curse your horny brain once again.

“Okay,” you sighed, relenting. It was the least he could do to make it up to you, right?