#maybe this is a little too vulnerable for the internet

[originalkid-basement]

Sometimes I think a little too hard and I remember that I could die at any moment and I really don't want to be the kid that everyone knows somehow that died in highschool so I just like. Don't leave my house for a few days

[eruukat]

wanting to get into selfship/yumedanshi shenanigans but idk where to start or how to like.. represent myself..? im in a weird stage where i dont have much of a concept of Belonging to a specific appearance. i have a sense of style i guess but not much else? and if i were to make an oc theyd be moreso My Taste more than whats actually me. and id feel weird lusting over my own self insert yknow

[zzleeper]

Good

Jason Todd x Nurse!Reader

MAJOR hurt/comfort

authors note: tbh i do not put as much effort as i should when i write these fics so pls forgive any errors. ty to the internet for providing me with tutorials on how to heal burns :)

ALSO this happens after the end of under the red hood. if you dk what happens basically the building everyone is in explodes and jason is probably incredibly emotionally vulnerable

CW: wounds and burns

words: 2227 . playlist/vibes

.

There’s the squeak of your window opening, and despite the fact you know it’s Red Hood, you pick up the baseball bat you keep beside your nightstand. 

You had met Red Hood at a side job of yours. As a nurse in Gotham with dogshit pay, sometimes you’ve got to have some more questionable sources of income. You were stitching up some criminal who’d been beaten to half a pulp by Batman in the back of some sketchy club/drug dealing front, and he had caught your eye. Later, you realized he was probably there to fuck with the guys in the area once the men you were patching up started muttering about “The Red Hood” like if they spoke too loud he was going to hear them.

He’d played into your advances, flirting back with as much enthusiasm as you had arrived with. It was flattering having such a fine-ass man show interest in you. It didn’t matter how genuine it was since he had proven how good a lay he could be a week after that when you two had found each other again at another base of operations for another gang.

Every other time he always found you. He probably knew where you lived before you brought him back to your apartment. And he never took the mask off. It was a little weird, how attached to it he was, but it’s Gotham, and you’re fucking with a criminal. You’re lucky that, as far as you can tell, he’s not an escapee from Arkham. He didn’t touch the mask, and you didn’t say anything. Maybe he was super disfigured or something. You didn’t care; he looked good and fucked good, so nothing could’ve been that bad.

Red Hood always left before you’d even fallen asleep. The post-orgasm haze was enjoyable until he untangled himself from you and left without saying goodbye. It was always a silent affair every time he left. He was so committed to leaving that he refused to stay the night during a thunderstorm, deciding to brave thunder and rain instead of sleeping in the same bed with you

It didn’t hurt, but it was a little disappointing. You had never defined your relationship with Red Hood, but you knew he wasn’t interested in anything but sex. You were, though. The dull ache in your chest every time he left was nothing unexpected; catching feelings, or at least thinking you are, is a natural progression of fucking someone once every week or two. It’s a pattern you’ve found forming every time you’ve tried to have a no-strings-attached sort of relationship, even if you haven’t even seen his face before.

Creeping out of your room with socked feet, you shuffle toward your window and flick the light on.

Your bat clatters to the ground, and you can see Red Hood flinch slightly.

“Oh my god, what the fuck happened?” You gasp in shock at the state of the man who’s just broken into your apartment. Red Hood is beaten and bloody and clutching his side. You can see blood oozing out from the gaps between his fingers, but that might just be from how burned his hand is. His mask is just gone. But he’s still wearing a domino mask over his eyes. Bruises bloom everywhere on his face; his eyebrow is sluggishly bleeding into his eye, which is puffing up under the mask. He’s leaning against the wall beside your window, looking more like he collapsed. 

He groans quietly in response as you rush over to him, collapsing on your knees next to him, “Got in an–” He coughs quietly, that’s not good, “An explosion.”

You want to suggest a hospital, but you know that he would immediately refuse and–if he could walk–probably just leave. Talking to Red Hood in vulnerable moments was like coaxing a feral cat.

“Okay,” You mumble, “Okay,” You know how to do this. Maybe with more people and more hospital equipment and not in your apartment, but you know how to do this.

“Alright,” You shuffle next to him and wrap an arm around his torso, maneuvering his arm to rest on your shoulders, “I’m going to lift you on one, okay?”

Red Hood nods, his eyes fluttering closed.

“Hey,” You snap, nudging him with your shoulder, “Stay awake–and deep breaths, alright?” Shuffling into a crouching position, you adjust him slightly, “Three, two, and one,” You both grunt in unison as you lift him up and off the floor, “Up we go, come on.”

Stumbling to the bathroom, you nudge the door open with your hip and carefully sit Red Hood on the toilet with you crouching between his legs. He droops in a way you’ve never seen before. Red Hood has always been so confident, holding himself high, but right now, he looks bone-tired, something sleep can’t fix. 

He feels raw and broken open, something thick with sadness and tragedy oozing out of him, and that’s not just the blood. You cup his cheek to make him look you in the eyes, “Tell me what hurts, honey,” You say, the endearment slipping out as if you’re talking to a patient. Or someone you love.

Red Hood pushes his face into your hand, making your heart squeeze in your chest, “I think I broke a few ribs, definitely a concussion too,” He lifts his hand, it’s bloody and burned, blisters forming in spots that make you cringe, “And my hand is burned like crazy,” He rasps, “Shot my gun with some shit blocking the barrel.”

“Okay, can you take off your shirt, or do you need help?” You ask, standing up to start running the water and grabbing two cloths made from old t-shirts from the hamper next to your tub. Red Hood shakes his head and pulls off his shirt in your peripherals. Glancing over, his chest looks just as bad as you thought it would, with bruises scattered everywhere. It makes your stomach drop just a little more. At least there aren’t any deep abrasions anywhere. 

Once the water warms up enough, you wet the cloths and offer one to Red Hood, resting the other one down on the sink countertop, “Wrap that around your hand and keep it there. I’m going to go get some ice for your ribs,” You say quietly, leaving the bathroom to walk over to the kitchen. 

Why was Red Hood even here? He’s the most secretive person you know, and doesn’t he have an entire gang to patch him up? He must have a lieutenant or something somewhere. You grab the towel you keep in your kitchen and stuff it with ice, heading back to the bathroom where Red Hood awaits you. Honestly, fucking one of the most dangerous men in Gotham and a notorious crime lord was not your brightest idea, but patching him up after he got into a fucking explosion? What the fuck.

This isn’t what you two do, especially with Hood being so vulnerable right now. He’s breaking the boundaries he had firmly set completely on his own.

“Hey,” You say, Red Hood’s leaning back against the toilet, his eyes closed, “Wake up, I’ve got your ice.” Thankfully, he opens his eyes and takes the makeshift icepack with his good hand, pressing it against his ribs with a slight grimace. You pull the t-shirt-cloth off the counter and stand in between his legs to clean his face.

Nudging his chin with your hand to make him look up at you, you peel off the domino mask with some hesitation, but Red Hood just closes his eyes. He rests his head in your hand when you carefully grip his chin to nudge his face in the direction you want. Starting to clean the cut on his eyebrow, you think about how familiar he looks. His eyes look like those you’ve seen before, but you have no idea where.

“What happened?” You ask, wiping the blood off his face as carefully as you can. You know he won’t answer honestly, the few times you two had talked about anything close to emotions he had fled or changed the subject as soon as possible.

“I told you,” Red Hood responds like the avoidant fuck he is, “Explosion.”

You tut, whacking him lightly with your t-shirt-towel, and he huffs good-naturedly, “You know what I fucking meant, dickhead.” You scold, but he just shakes his head minutely in response, a furrow forming between his brows. 

You swipe your thumb over it, soft in a way you two have never been, “You don’t have to tell me, Red. If this is the best way to help, then I’ll fix you up and send you on your way.” 

He takes a shaky breath, and his eyebrows scrunch together more. You’re scared he’s going to stand up and leave your apartment, but he pushes through your hands and presses his forehead into your stomach. He falls apart against you. You can’t tell if he’s crying, but it’s something close.

“Oh, sweetheart,” You mutter, curling a hand into his hair. 

You both stay like that until he calms down, the sobs wracking his body slowing to a stop. Cupping his face in your hands, you push until he looks up at you. 

You don’t have to push very hard. Wiping away the tear tracks with your thumbs, you smile sadly down at him. There’s a small wet spot on your shirt.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up,” You crouch down and start wiping the dirt and blood off his chest, pushing him until he leans against the back of the toilet. Repeating this on his back as well, you try to soothe as best you can with a hand stroking up and down his side with the least bruises.

Once you’re done you pull him around to face you, “I’m going to wash your hair, bandage your hand, and then you’re sleeping for a very long time.”

Red Hood visibly tenses at that, and you level him with an unimpressed stare, “Stay,” You say quietly, resting your hands on his biceps and avoiding his gaze, “I want to watch you if you have a concussion, and I can’t do that when you’re having a seizure in an alleyway because it’s given you brain damage.”

He deflates, but still rolls his eyes, “It’s not that bad,” He argues, “I’ve been through worse.” How bad, he doesn’t say, but from the amount of scars on his chest and back, you can pretty much tell.

You patronizingly pat his cheek, “That sucks for you,” You tease, your hand sliding down to wrap your fingers around his wrist, avoiding the burns on his hands, and gently tug him towards the shower. He follows without protest, and you both sit against the tub as you wait for the water to warm up. It’s calming, sitting beside Red Hood, your sides pressed together.

Once the water is at a heat you deem acceptable; you pull down the showerhead and maneuver Red Hood to kneel over the tub, still icing his ribs, and start washing his ashy hair with generous amounts of shampoo and conditioner. You can feel his breathing slow next to you as you massage his head with your hands, suds falling into the tub under him.

You wring out his hair with a towel and push him back up into a sitting position. Kneeling on the ground, you lean over to pull open the cabinet under your sink and carefully take the first aid kit from its precarious balance on top of your medicine hoard.

Wrapping his burn is easier than you thought, Red Hood pliant and willing under your hands. You do a once over of him and judge him fit to sleep. You lead him out of the bathroom with a hand on the small of his back.

“Sorry, I don’t have any underwear for you,” You whisper, scared to break the quiet vulnerability you two are sharing.

He smiles at you for the first time since he arrived, which really means it’s the first time ever. It’s soft around the corners with exhaustion, and he looks at you for a little while before responding, “It’s okay, I didn’t expect you to,” He whispers back, just as hushed as you.

You chuckle at his late reply, “Your concussion must be pretty bad if it takes you that long to process words,” You goad, slipping under the covers. Red Hood goes to follow after setting his icepack down on the nightstand, but you hold out a hand to stop him, “Pants. Off. I’m not getting your grime and soot all over my clean sheets.”

He smiles brighter, “Well, you could’ve asked nicer,” He huffs, unbuckling his utility belt and letting it fall to the floor. He undoes his real belt and kicks off his cargo pants, nestling down into the sheets with a groan that’s half pain and half satisfaction.

You’re lying on your stomach, your face smushed against the pillow facing Red Hood, who’s lying on his back, as he fucking should, staring up at the ceiling, “Good?” You mumble, more at the pillow than the man beside you, and he laughs slightly, turning his head to look at you.

“Yeah,” He whispers like a secret in the dark of your bedroom, “It's good.”

[lihhelsing]

Part 3

Eddie can barely react when Steve offers to pick him up at his house for their date night.

Eddie is a nervous wreck at this point as he's been with everything that's related to Steve (or related to not-Steve). 

Ever since he first matched with him, Eddie felt like he was living in a parallel world because there was no way in hell someone like him would ever swipe right on someone like Eddie. And yet. It really happened. 

Well, at first it didn't, but then Steve called and said all those nice things to Eddie and fuck if he wasn't easy when someone flattered him. 

But Eddie was also a paranoid shit, so he kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. For Steve to laugh at him and tell him it was just a prank. For him to ghost him - which maybe would be even worse. 

But Steve didn't and now he was waiting outside of his place in a fucking BMW? What the fuck was that? 

Steve looks good because he always does. They had been exchanging pictures of themselves as they talked and even when Steve was all sweaty and gross from a workout he still looked good. Eddie compensated with good angles and dork faces that Steve said time and time again were adorable. 

He insisted so much that he thought Eddie was cute that Eddie was almost believing him. He had also tried his hardest for their date, putting on some of his favorite clothes, a band t-shirt and ripped skinny jeans that made him look good. His hair was down because it felt like a good armor if he needed to hide from something. 

Steve doesn't even give him time to anything before he's smiling and saying 'you look so handsome,' and placing his hand on Eddie's thigh and fuck, he forgot how to breathe. 

"Thanks, you, uh, you look good, too," Eddie blabbers and Steve chuckles and it's adorable. He's adorable and Eddie is losing his shit. 

"Ready for our date?" Steve smiles and turns the car on, his hand heavy on Eddie's leg still. There's a part of Eddie that's sure he's the farthest thing from ready, but this is happening, no question. 

X

Somehow, Eddie tricks Steve into inviting him over after the movie is over. Steve said he wanted to take him to dinner, but he failed to mention dinner was actually eating popcorn and candy at a drive-in. 

Eddie had no notes. 

After the movie started, he managed to relax a bit. Steve seemed to feel it because he, too, relaxed and when they were done with their food, he offered his hand for Eddie to take. He felt giddy like a high-schooler and like Steve had, somehow, known Eddie never had the chance to do any of that in high school.

Despite his fancy car, Steve's apartment is more modest than Eddie expects it to be. He mentioned having a roommate who he's friends with, although he said he just met her over the internet and she hooked him up with the job. 

"So, is she like your best friend or something?" Eddie asks as Steve opens the car door for him as if he's a prince out of a fairy tale. 

"Oh, no. I mean, we're friends and we talk and I really like her company, but I don't think she likes me very much."

"Why not?"

Steve shrugs, but Eddie can tell it's a sore subject‌. Eddie gets it, though. For the little he knows Steve, he can already tell he cares a lot about people liking him or not. He also doesn't understand why someone wouldn't like Steve, but well, people are weird. 

"Is she out?" Eddie asks as they get in the elevator and Steve nods. 

"Yeah, she usually spends Friday nights at her girlfriend's place. That's why I normally get the Friday shift. I kind of hate being home alone and it's just a nice thing to do for her, I guess."

Eddie hums noncommittally. He's trying to piece Steve together, but it's hard because his looks and his posture sometimes say one thing and then he lets out this incredibly vulnerable information and it leaves Eddie confused. 

They walk in together and the place is small, but cute. There's an old couch and Steve tells him to sit down, saying he's getting them some drinks. Eddie doesn't want to drink, he wants to just grab Steve by the face and kiss him dumb. 

Steve doesn't take long and as he sits down, Eddie can't hold it anymore. He has no idea where all this bravado comes from, but he leans forward and pecks Steve on the mouth. Steve's eyes widen and Eddie is about to apologize when two hands cup his face and pull him forward. 

And then they are kissing. Really kissing. With tongue and little huffs that come out of Steve's mouth and Eddie feels like he's died. 

If he is, in fact, dead, then Eddie is going to make the best of it. He lets his hands move to Steve's waist and he pulls him in. He has no idea what he was trying to do, but Steve seems to be much more confident because he straddles Eddie's hips and then he's on top. 

"Fuck," Eddie says. He's completely out of breath and Steve feels so good like this. He grips his waist harder and Steve thinks it's a go-ahead for him to roll his hips down and Eddie sees stars. 

Steve kisses him like he's hungry for him, and it's a heady feeling. Eddie has kissed boys before, but no one that looked like Steve. No one that made his heart skip so many beats like he does. 

No one that seemed to want Eddie as much as Steve does right now. 

"Stevie," Eddie whispers. He's not even sure he managed to get the words out but Steve stops kissing his neck. His pupils are blown out and his mouth is red and swollen and Eddie did that. 

"Yeah?" Steve is out of breath, too. His chest rises and falls in quick intervals. 

"Can we slow down?" Eddie says when he catches his own breath. He's afraid of saying it because it makes him look pathetic, but he doesn't want to rush this. 

They've been talking for a month before they even went out, but Eddie still feels too raw and insecure and-

"Of course, baby," Steve interrupts Eddie's train of thought and he has a soft smile, but he doesn't move away. He's not repelled by Eddie. He leans in and kisses him softly on the mouth. 

The pet name wraps itself around Eddie's heart. He's desperate to believe all of this means more than just a casual hook up but he knows he can't. Not yet. 

"Oh, wait! I saved a video I wanted to show you," Steve says as if they weren't eating each other a few short seconds ago. Eddie chuckles. He likes it. He likes how Steve can just roll with whatever Eddie throws his way. 

"Yeah, let's see this video," Eddie smiles, takes a moment to just admire Steve, hair a complete mess thanks to him, face flushed a pretty shade of pink. He looks perfect and Eddie wants to keep him so bad. 

"Wait, can you call my phone? I don't know where I put it." 

Much to Eddie's disappointment, Steve gets out of his lap and pats his pockets, frowning. He starts moving around the house and Eddie fishes his phone, dialing Steve's number from his contact list. 

He watches as Steve disappears back inside the kitchen and listens as his phone starts to ring right beside him, on the couch. Eddie can't see it, so he pushes his hand at the edges and pulls out Steve's phone. 

They must've been making out pretty hard for the phone to go this deeper on the couch. Eddie chuckles and presses the red button at the same time Steve comes back into the living room. 

"Found it! I left it at the kitchen counter when I grabbed us water," Steve says, waving a phone he has in his hands. Eddie frowns at him and holds out the phone he found. 

"Me too."

It's Steve's turn to look confused. "What?"

Previous | Next

[hellsslibrary]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚NSFW Alphabet with Azul Ashengrotto˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

DNI : minors.

!!Warnings : switch!top!male!reader, switch!bottom!Azul, size difference kink, oral, toys, cock warming, praise/humiliation kink, power dynamic, ink(I'm not sorry).

#a.n. : While everyone is writing kinktobers, I'm still trying to finish this. But wait after the alphabets, there will be kinktober... In November, to make it more convenient (and maybe earlier, if I try). Also, no pictures today because I want to redo the decor, and I'm writing this part of Azul for two beautiful ladies, so...(I'll add them later)

A = Aftercare (What are they like after sex?)

He is embarrassed about this (just a little), but he will help put things in order in what he and his partner have done. Prefers to rest a bit before cleaning, but if his partner starts, he will certainly help too. Especially if he was in a dominant position.

B = Body Part (Their favorite body part as well as their partners)

Well, in your body it would... Certain parts. He definitely has a kink for the size difference (you can't argue with me, I want to pin him against the wall). And he will love anything if it is bigger than his body parts? Palms, muscles, if any, tongue, di—. Yes.

Honestly, he really likes his chest, and not just the nipples specifically, he likes it when his partner touches him anywhere on the chest in general. I just have a headcanon that he has very petite chest, even for a guy and well... Sorry.

C = Cum (basically anything related to sperm)

So... His sperm has the most ordinary consistency. It is released quite a bit during orgasm, but it tastes quite salty. There is his ink in the sperm (fanfiction with the overblot form of Azul is always in my head, maybe I’ll write them too someday)

Mmm, I think he likes it when people cum in his mouth. Fish sperm, according to internet experts, is simply disgusting. So he likes this taste, definitely.

D = Dirty Secret (Self-explanatory, their dirty secret)

He is the power bottom almost always, simply because he is flattered by the idea of control. But damn, he has moments where he just wants you to take it all into your own hands and take it as you please, mostly without considering his opinion (but still having his consent to it, of course).

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they are doing?)

... No. Simply no. He's definitely a virgin. I doubt he even knows much about sex in theory. Well, dick, hole there, sperm, orgasm. That's all, okay?

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Doggy style~. Don't lie to me that you didn't want to bend him over his table in the VIP room, I won't believe you (it's not exactly doggy style, but who cares). He mostly refuses to look you in the face when you're dominant, so why not.

If he is dominant... Missionary position? I just like the idea of a dominant bottom underneath a service top and well... Azul would be a good fit. He likes to be snuggled anyway.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious at the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)

Extremely serious, but with a hint of playfulness, if that makes sense. For example, if he has sex with a partner, it means that they literally mean the world to him and he is exposing a part of himself that is really vulnerable, so he likes it if both parties take it very seriously, but he also likes to have an opportunity to tease you and pull your strings just to see how you react.

H = Hair (How well groomed is it? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

I wouldn't say he's shaved, but his hair is definitely short, so there's no real need for that. The color is absolutely identical and they are also slightly curly, just like this hairstyle...

I = Intimacy (How are they feeling at the moment? Romantic aspect.)

He is very romantic in general. As I said earlier, he exposes a part of himself that is truly vulnerable, so when his partner takes it seriously, he feels very loved, generally respected and accepted, so he becomes much more romantic both sexually and in general .

J = Jack off (Main canon of masturbation)

He has a lot of stress in his life, you know? So, fuck... I think he would like to do this more often, but he doesn't do it often anyway. He still prefers your hands.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He probably likes to be humiliated and praised at the same time, and I can't explain it for the world, but I know it. Also likes power dynamics, likes to be bossed around and have less power than the other person, but still respected. But when it comes to dominating you—... For now. He also loves getting your cock warm (sorry). Well... I like to attribute this kink to all busy characters, except for Vil, what will you do to me.

L = Location (Favorite places to do things)

Very personal to him, so the only place he could really do this is either his room, his partners room, or some motel if he's really desperate. Specifically and for the most part, this is his room because he knows where everything is and he has certain toys that he can just pull out whenever he wants. Although... With a lot of persuasion or no choice (if one of you was EXTREMELY horny), he would agree to have sex in a less secluded place

M = Motivation (what turns them on, turns them on)

When he and his partner have a truly romantic relationship (that is, serious) or when you start whispering all sorts of dirty things in his ear and touching his thighs, for example.

N = No (Something they wouldn't do is disabled)

Hmm, I should at least list with someone no (with Vil there will be a direct list, lol), but Azula will also receive this honor. Rape, he also really doesn't like threesomes because he feels it's more about getting laid than actually caring about each other and wants to dedicate all his love to one person in particular. And also his real form until a very distant moment in the relationship.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Receiving. You can't tell me otherwise because this man looks like he was made to be flexed, especially with his skinny waist like...(sorry, I got carried away) and he probably doesn't mind either sit on your face (if that’s what you’re into, of course). The ratio would be something like this: 60% for you, 40% for you.

He's not particularly good at giving blowjobs, but it's all made better by his enthusiasm to bring you to orgasm as quickly as possible... As long as he's not teasing or denying your orgasm, of course.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

He is slow and sensual as he loves to enjoy every moment he can spend with his partner in this way. Also wants to make sure that the other person knows that he loves them for real, and not just for sex.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickie games, how often, etc.)

Doesn't like quick games, but if he's really busy and his partner wants to do it, he'll agree to one. Well... Actually, they happen quite often, if I may confess.

R = Risk (are they playing with experiments? Are they taking risks? etc.)

Willing to take risks, but very quickly draws a line under what he doesn't like to do (he absolutely doesn't want many things until he becomes comfortable with his boyfriend/he has more trust in him). He wants to spend time with his partner as fully as possible.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they last? How long will they last?)

He becomes very weak in this position, so can usually only last about 7-10 rounds at most (still a reminder that this is a magical world, kittens). He actually only tries three or so, but if his partner wants to try a few more, he's more than welcome. True, only a few.

T = Toys (Do they have toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He probably has a dildo that he pleasures himself with from time to time, but he only really uses one. He takes good care of it and always makes sure it's properly cleaned so he doesn't get an infection or get sick or anything like that. Not a big fan of toys in general, but if that's what you want, he's okay with it.

U = Unfair (How much they love to tease)

He really likes both sides of the coin. He enjoys both teasing his partner and receiving teasing from him. Loves it when he squirms under his partner and he starts making comments about it, although he always complains about it, he likes it. And I also like the completely mirrored version.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Very loud because he often forgets to be quiet, the only thing he can really think about is his partner at that moment so nothing else matters. Although, if you persuade him to have sex outside of your rooms with him... He will hardly utter a sound, he is too ashamed.

W = Wild Card (random character headcanon)

He... Loves... Jerk... You... With...His... Tentacles. Okay, listen to me. When in the end, you gain his trust completely, he will agree to many things in his form. And damn... The tentacles are clearly faster and more skillful than his arms (even if they are quite chubby).

X = X-ray (Let's see what's going on under those clothes)

12 cm/just under 5 inches. He has a mole on his balls. His balls are surprisingly quite large and plump.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Like I said, his sex drive is quite high considering his stress level, but on average... He's fine with about 2-3 times a week. Although, what if you want more? He's all yours.

Z - Zzz (How quickly they fall asleep later)

Doesn't fall asleep right away, he likes to compliment his partner or talk a little before he falls asleep. If his partner is asleep, he can simply lie there for 10-20 minutes and come to the realization of what he just did before falling back to sleep.

[obessedwithfictionalmen]

Co-Stars pt.4

Summary: Y/n post something interesting...

Warning: Sexism/ use of Y/n/ Swearing/

A/n: > Means Y/n's replies

Word count: 890 words

@Official_Y/n

@Official_Y/n: Guess who?

Liked by 78 345

Comments:

@User5710: Mother posting!!!!

@Y/n_fan214: Soft lauch?!

@TimotheChalamet: Ew, there's children on this app. > Okay🙂

@Austin_Butler: 🫣 > Sush Elvis

@User9261: Did she just shushed Austin Butler? > She did 💅

@Dua_Lipa: That back tho! 🫨 > 🏋‍♀️💪💅

-

After her post, the Internet was like the volcano that flooded Pompei with lava: Smoking hot. Everyone was talking about the guy in the picture and how intimate they looked. Of course, everyone thought about Callum, and they were right, but they didn’t know it. So, when Y/n, Austin, Anthony and Callum went on the Graham Norton show, they were expecting questions about it.

-

‘’So, Y/n obviously you got a lot of attention this week, because of this’’ Her post appears on the screen. Anthony starts to chuckle. ‘’I know, my back looks great’’ she says, avoiding the question. ‘’You look amazing, but the real question is: Who is the gentleman in the two pictures?’’ Two red arrows pointing at the men in the pictures appears on the screen. ‘’I can’t see him, maybe point it to me’’ she says, sarcastically of course. The publics starts to laugh. ‘’I mean there’s a gentleman in my life, I won’t say who, but yeah. Thought I’d tease the internet a little’’ she says, crossing her legs. ‘’Boys do you know who he is?’’ Graham asked the 3 men. ‘’Yeah, I met him, he’s really nice’’ Anthony says. ‘’He’s amazing, he takes care of my best friend, and that’s all that counts’’ Callum says. Y/n has to bite the inside of her cheek to prevent her from laughing. Hearing Callum talk about himself at the 3rd person almost makes her laugh and blow away the surprise. ‘’Like they said, he’s a really nice guy. Really fun too, we had some great conversations with him. Awesome guy’’ Austin adds. ‘’But what about Callum?’’ Graham asks. ‘’What about him?’’ Y/n asks. ‘’W-w-well you guys. T-t-the internet ships you together!’’ he stutters. Y/n direct answer took him by surprise. ‘’We also have a video of Callum and a mystery lady, let’s take a look’’ What video? Shit?! It showed a video of Callum making out with Y/n, but we couldn’t see her face, it was badly filmed because the only action we could see was between the crack of the door. Y/n tried not to react, and she was hoping that Callum would improvise something. ‘’Graham, I’m sorry, but we’re here to promote our show, Master of the Air, not trying to get to the bottom of the rumors of who’s Y/n dating and Callum’s privacy being invaded’’ Austin said, as calmly as possible. ‘’Austin’s right, plus we have great things to talk about other than Y/n’s dating life.’’ Anthony added the woman smiled to the blonde, who just saved their life. ‘’You’re right, I’m sorry, so Anthony…’’ Graham didn’t talk about relationships that night. When the interview was over and they got backstage, Y/n hugged Austin. ‘’Thank you so freaking much’’ she said. ‘’Thank you, Austin, I really appreciate it’’ Callum said. ‘’Don’t worry we got you’’ Anthony said.

-

After Austin and Anthony’s intervention, the people calmed down on the question, but the internet could still see their chemistry. Callum and Y/n still liked to tease the internet, but they calmed down too. Until the premier in the U.S.A, they kissed at the final premiere, in London. The one in the United-States was the before last premiere they all did. Y/n came on the carpet with a very reviling designer piece that the fans started to speculate.

-

She didn’t want to come on the carpet dressed like this, but the designer put a lot of effort into the piece, so she wore it. But she already had a team ready inside the movie theater to change her outfit. When she stepped out the car, she felt very vulnerable, she arrived alone this time, she was already gonna get attention for her outfit, she didn’t more publicity. She walked on the red carpet, until she reached her co-stars. ‘’Y/n here! Show us your tits!’’ a male fan yelled, making her very uncomfortable. Callum, who had seen the scene, felt really bad for his girlfriend. He wanted to help her, but if he gave her his jacket, the rumors would just be unbearable, they like to tease the internet, but not like that. ‘’Austin, can you go give your jacket to Y/n, she’s really uncomfortable’’ he whispered. He nodded than went forward, to give Y/n his jacket. ‘’With your boyfriends’ compliments’’ he said, not wanting to be suspicious. She put the jacket on and continued her way on the carpet. They finally did a group photo, after they could go inside, and Y/n could change. ‘’Come on Y/n, you’re not afraid to be shirtless on Instagram! We want to see the tits!’’ another male fan yelled. The guys were all in shook of what they just heard. But Y/n took all the confidence she had left and stepped forward. ‘’Maybe ask politely’’ she gave the men a fake smile before showing him her middle finger. The flash of the camera doubled; she was certainly going to get attention now. But what she didn’t realise was that the hole cast was flipping the guy off. Callum was the first to follow is girlfriend in giving the middle finger, the rest just followed.

-

Surprisingly, it wasn’t her outfit that made the front page, it was the picture of the cast giving the finger to the sexist fan. They didn’t talk about the fact that it was disrespectful, they talked about the fact that men were supporting woman and how it should always be like this. The cast of Master of the Air were now icons in the feminist movement. All thanks to Callum…

[seravphs]

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — IDOL! GOJO x ROCKSTAR! FEM READER

Gojo loves the untouchable. You’re an off limits rockstar who thinks he’s an idiot. The only thing he can do is take that as a challenge, right?

wc — 6.8k

tags — non detailed mention of idol industry EDs, pride and prejudice type energy tbh, reader is a little superior about being in a rock band and not “selling out”, Gojo has an annoying habit of pointing out their hypocrisy, sneaking around because you’re public figures, nsfw jokes, minor nongraphic blood

Gojo’s not your usual type. He’s too pretty for that, with those long lashes like a doll’s. They’re stark against his pale skin when he flirts with you, peering alluringly at you through half closed eyes like the cheap tricks that get his fangirls to scream will work on you. 

He’s too easy to break for your taste, but from what you hear on Twitter, that’s why people like him. There’s something charming about the gap in his image that draws people in. People are dying for a taste of vulnerability because he's so cocky, but it's easy to make him beg.

There’s a million clips all over the internet of the moments he’s caught off guard, carefully hoarded instances in his career where a genuine embarrassed flush comes over his cheekbones, made into gifs and Tik Toks and YouTube videos. 

That’s not your thing. 

You like people with tough hearts and tougher reputations. People who could take the beating of public opinion without a flinch, not some soft spoken idol who needs his management to hold his hand through an apology. You like your fans, but they know their limit with you.  

It’s not love, not like with an idol. It would never be, you made sure of it. You’d quit before you ever issued an apology for dating someone. 

You hate to be a stereotype almost as much as you hate the idea of becoming a pushover, but you’ve dated a string of bad boy exes who were all exactly what you would expect for the lead singer of a rock band. A little rough around the edges, dark and smoldering. Men who would wear your red lipstick marks like a badge of honor. People who had never even heard of something like an idol image. 

Maybe that’s why no one saw it coming. You were safe, established. Gojo was out of your usual pitch. 

It’s too bad for the fans that you’ve always been a bit of a daredevil. Trying new things has never scared you. You’ve always been willing to test your limits to find the gold in the muck. That’s how you grow. 

That’s how you ended up here, sitting thigh to thigh with the boy wonder of the idol industry. 

“Aren’t you playing a dangerous game here?” You ask as he nudges even closer to you, far beyond what you’re sure his fans will permit. You’ve heard horror stories about the lengths people will go to if they see their idols even look at someone of the opposite gender. 

“Why, you scared?”

“You wish. You’re the idol here. It’s your reputation on the line.”

He smiles at you, saccharine sweet. “I don’t like letting other people control me.” 

That earns your begrudging respect, even if his bony knee is knocking into yours. He’s so lanky it makes you a touch concerned. Shoko’s girlfriend is an idol, and she’s constantly sneaking her food under her manager’s notice. 

That’s another reason why you could never be an idol. Letting someone else dictate your life like that sounds like hell. It was hard enough to convince you to be here in the first place. 

Your band doesn’t do promotion, least of all you. It’s all homegrown talent and homegrown fans, but you’re in stasis. Your growth has plateaued. Like all artists, you’re beholden to bills to pay to keep the music going. You’re big enough to know when you have to make sacrifices. 

It’s nothing personal. That’s just the industry, from pop stars to idols to bands like you. If nothing else, you all share the solidarity of giving anything for the music. You just think you have a harder limit for anything than idols do. 

The host kicks off the segment before you have time to do further analysis. 

“Welcome back to Hot or Not, the variety show where we pit your favorite internet heartthrobs against each other! Please welcome today’s guests - they may not be the duo you expect!” 

The camera pans to you and Gojo. His smile is instant, soft and natural, as real as if he were genuinely overjoyed to be here. You have to give him props for that, at least. He’s good at his job. 

As soon as the camera pans to you, his expression flickers and returns to bored disinterest. He yawns, his teeth pearly white. Veneers, maybe. His tongue flicks around the sharp tip of one canine, his smirk nearly fanged. There’s the feature he’s so famous for, the one that has him edited into cat reaction memes all across the internet. Kitty Gojo and his kitten fangs. 

He’s a grown man. You think you’d jump off a building before you let your teenage girl fans put cat ears on you and coo at you. 

To each their own, you guess. Gojo didn’t seem that perturbed by it. To be fair, he didn’t seem perturbed by anything. 

“Let’s start with Gojo! Remember, if you don’t feel like answering a question, we’ll put you in a surprise challenge with your partner.” 

“Sure,” he says easily. “I’m an open book.” 

“Let’s start easy. What’s your favorite song off your new album, Blue Spring?” 

Gojo makes a face. “Pass.” 

“Sorry, maybe you didn’t understand the question-“

“No, I got it. That’s boring,” he says. “Give me the challenge.” 

You’re amused despite yourself, and fighting not to let it show. There’s the troublesome personality you’ve heard so much about. He wouldn’t be half so popular if he wasn’t so pretty, but that attitude and that face made for a dangerous combination. 

The host is trying to salvage the situation with an easygoing laugh. Backstage, you hear someone mutter, “Gojo is gojo-ing again.” 

It’s all so funny until you realize he’s dragging you into his mess as they set up the challenge. 

Your host explains the rules too quickly for you to catch in their entirety, but it’s something along the lines of a staring contest. You’re supposed to do everything in your power to make the other lose a straight face, with words or actions. 

“Are you allowed to do this?” You joke as they start strapping the electrodes on you to measure your heart rate. 

“What do you mean?” Gojo’s mussing his hair up so he looks more artistically roguish. 

“You know, just being an idol and all. I figured you wouldn’t be able to do things like this without your fangirls jumping on you.” 

“Ah,” he says, scooting his chair closer to you. You’re knee to knee as they finish the last details of fiddling with machine. “You’re one of those types?” 

“And that means?” 

“You think I’m an idiot because I’m an idol.” 

“I didn’t say that,” you protest, watching the monitor to make sure your heart rate isn’t jumping with your words. It’s just a game, but you’re competitive. 

“No, but you’re thinking it. What else? Maybe you think idols are also soulless grifters?”

You wince. It’s not that you think so terribly of idols, per se, you just understand and recognize their need to please their company. They’re products before they’re people. 

“I got it right, huh?” He’s pleased with himself. 

“Am I wrong?” You retort. “You’re really going to tell me you love singing your overproduced pop music for the tween girls who will buy anything you put out as long as you’re pretty enough?” 

“Aren’t you here too? Lot of talk for someone who’s sitting right next to the sellout. You know what they say about birds of a feather…”

It’s all in a whisper, so no one else hears - or sees your startled reaction to find out the pampered show dog has a little bite in him. You could retaliate, but if you’re being honest? 

This makes you respect him more. 

He’s right, anyway. You did sell out by being on this show. 

The machine beeps. He smiles, slow and sweet - or at least it would be if you didn’t already know there was an edge to it. “I win.” 

“Wow!” You’ve never found the host more annoying. “That got heated at the end, didn’t it, folks? Do you mind sharing what Gojo said?”

You smile at the camera in a way that feels more like you’re beating your teeth. “It’s a secret.” 

You’re not mad at him. If anything, you’re impressed. The person you’re really disappointed with is yourself.

So he’s not what he thought you were. So he challenged your biased preconceptions on idols. So what? 

It doesn’t mean anything, but you can’t get him out of your head. 

The rest of the show is an easy and welcome distraction from your inner turmoil over the possibility of maybe potentially tolerating an idol. Throwing out witty answers and being neck to neck with Gojo in winning mini games is much preferable to having to experience emotions. It’s only when it’s over that the problems start. 

You watch as he gets up, biting your lip and debating to yourself. It’s only when he’s halfway out the door that you make your decision. You’ve always been a do or die kind of girl. 

“Hey. Want to get dinner?”

You just want to make sure he’s eating. No other reason. 

His manager frowns behind him. 

“We’re in a weird spot,” he says. “The only thing around are convenience stores.” 

“That’s fine,” you say. “We can get instant ramen.” 

“I’ve never had instant noodles,” Gojo says. 

“Seriously?”

“No, not seriously,” he scoffs. “Just what kind of lives do you think we lead?”

“Deprived ones,” you toss over your shoulder as you lead him towards your monster of a customized car. 

“Oh, no,” his manager is beginning, but Gojo is already sliding comfortably into the passenger seat. His poor manager looks nervously at you as you turn the keys. “Are you sure that thing is safe?” 

“Don’t worry,” you tell him. “If this thing crashes, I’m in here too.” 

You don’t think that reassures him, but your own manager will handle it. You pull out of the parking space and head for the road. 

Gojo’s impatient. He tries the handle almost before you’re done parking. You’re like that too - always ready to move. This time, you’re one step ahead. You lock the door before he can leave. He gives you a startled look and glances outside again, clearly weighing his options. 

“Relax,” you say. “I’m not a crazed fan. Put these on before we attract an actual stalker of yours.” 

You toss him a hat, sunglasses, and a mask. You’ve started keeping them in your car ever since you’ve been hanging out with Shoko and her girlfriend, who was famous enough to get recognized in the street for her autograph. He wrinkles his nose but obediently puts them on. 

It doesn’t do much to hide his overall air of Gojo-ness. He steps into the store like he owns it, which he very well could.

The steam rises from your bowls and coats Gojo’s sunglasses. You’re surprised he can see inside, but he has no trouble navigating. He tells you he has 20/20 vision. 

One thing leads to another and suddenly he’s bragging about his perfect grades when he attended school. He’s a natural genius, which isn’t really a surprise. 

“I thought you were supposed to be a bad boy,” you tease. His glasses are slipping down his nose. You reach out to push them back up before anyone notices. His eyes are rather remarkable, after all. Anyone would be able to tell who he was at a glance. 

“Me?” He gives a choked laugh. It sounds nice. You’ve haven’t heard it before, not during the show. He was more polished then. The ways in which he rebels against being an idol show up unexpectedly.  “Nah. That’s all Getou. He’s the one with a hidden face. You wouldn’t believe what he’s like when the cameras are off.” 

“Somehow I don’t believe you,” you joke. 

“I’m serious,” he whines. “I’m pretty sheltered. Grew up rich, you know?” 

Who doesn’t know? The Gojo name is pretty famous. One of the biggest conglomerates in the entire world, it broke major news outlets when the heir chose to be an idol instead of the next president. 

He’s always been in the public eye, but kept separate like art at a museum. You have a nasty tendency of wanting to ruin things that you’ve been purposefully warned away from. It’s sort of a thing of yours, a bad habit you haven’t put too much effort into breaking. The more impermissible something is, the more likely you are to try, like a cat knocking a glass of water off a table. 

Corruptible isn’t the exact right word, but it’s what comes to mind. You want to mess him up a little. Put your grubby rockstar hands on him and leave smears behind so his fangirls see his tainted reputation. You don’t, of course. It’s just a passing thought that you wouldn’t risk actually jeopardizing his career for. 

It would just be nice to see him live a little more freely. 

The temptation clears with the last of your noodles disappearing into your mouth. There are things that are off limits for both of you. Those are just the sacrifices you’ve made for your dreams. That’s all there is to it. 

It’s so good you sigh at the loss of it, mourning your empty bowl. Gojo’s almost done himself. The minute he finished his noodles, he lets out a breath to mirror yours, then laughs once he catches himself. 

“Come on,” you say. “Let’s get you home.”

You think that’s the end of it. There’s no reason to go any further. You met an idol and he obliterated your previously held prejudices. You’ll never meet again. 

That’s not quite how it works out. 

When your manager offers you another chance to see Gojo, it’s nonchalant. “Remember that idol you were partnered with on that variety show? I know you don’t like those types, but you seemed to tolerate him well enough. There’s another-“

A yes flies out of your mouth so quickly it’s embarrassing. 

Your manager pauses. His eyes narrow. “Didn’t expect you to be so eager, but okay.” 

Your face burns with embarrassment. This isn’t like you at all. Even with your exes, you had been cool and level headed. Always the prize, never the one to give chase. 

He’s interesting, you try to rationalize it to yourself. You like interesting. Life was mind numbing without a kick, and he was the latest thrill. It didn’t mean anything more. 

It’s another variety show. Apparently the two of you had been so popular as a pair that they wanted more. 

Gojo’s in the makeup chair when you arrive. The artist is scolding him for blinking while she applies his mascara. He’s whining about his dry eyes. 

“Don’t be a baby,” you say, dropping into the chair next to him. 

“But that’s what I’m best at!”

“You’re so weird,” you laugh. 

The makeup artist groans. “Please don’t encourage him.” 

Only Gojo would take that as encouragement. He rolls his eyes and receives a light swat across the shoulder for his troubles. You play around on your phone while you wait for her to be free, but soon grow bored. Instead, you watch her swipe powder across Gojo’s face and dab cream onto the apples of his cheeks. 

“Stop staring,” he says. 

“How do you know I’m staring? Your eyes are closed.”

“I can feel it.”

“Well, you’re wrong.” 

“You’re such a bad liar,” he says, and you know he’s just messing around at this point because you’re an incredible liar. It’s your best quality. 

Falling into banter with Gojo is as easy as breathing. It’s no trouble at all to replicate it on the show. From the shadow, your manager gives you a double thumbs up. Dork. 

Sometimes it’s hard to remember that you’re doing this to drum up popularity for your tour. You’re not the only one having trouble. Gojo pulls you aside after filming wraps up to give you his personal number on the phone he’s not supposed to have. 

At night, you get an alert that you’ve received something from Gojo. It’s not a message. It’s a notification that you can save three tickets to your digital wallet. 

A speech bubble pops up. 

Come to my concert, he says. I got you VIP seats. 

Gojo’s impressed you, but you still don’t know about the rest of his band. You’re not sure you want to watch pretty men lip sync and grind on the stage for two hours, but when you tell Shoko, she offers to bring Utahime. That’s conveniently three, so you might as well. 

VIP seats don’t include backstage, so you’re surprised when security comes to retrieve you. There’s no backstage pass for this concert, actually, confusing you all the more. 

Shoko flaps her hand dismissively at you, encouraging you on. By her side, Utahime is trying to feed her snacks. Satisfied that they’re comfortable, you follow the guard to Gojo’s dressing room. He leaves you there without a word. 

After five minutes of waiting for something to happen, you knock. Instantly, Gojo’s voice invites you in. 

He’s sitting in front of the dresser, fiddling with his earrings. You’ve noticed seven piercings in total - three on his right lobe, two on his left, and one conch on either side. Before you knew him, you would’ve been surprised an idol would be allowed to get so many. Now you know he bends the rules whenever he’s able. 

“Pass me that?” You hand him the disinfectant. “Thanks. I didn’t think you were coming.” 

“Then why’d you send me tickets?”

“Thought my roguish good looks and natural charm would win you over,” he says with a smile that says he’s only half joking. 

“You’re insufferable,” you say as you bat his hands away from his ear. “Let me do that.” 

His hair is soft as cygnet down as you brush it behind his ear. There’s something innocent about his expression like this, watching him from above. His eyes are closed, breaths soft and even as he waits for you. 

The silver pools in your hand as you thread it through his ear, a waterfall released when it hooks on. He wears a lot of silver, you’ve noticed. His stylists favor colors that should wash him out but only make him look more angelic. Pale blue silk trims his form, encrusted with embellishments to make him look prince-like. There are sparkles in the inner corner of his eye, soft blush on his cheekbones to make him look sweet. 

He’s anything but when his eyelids flutter open and he notices you watching. A smile almost cruel tugs at his lips. His hand reaches for you as if- 

There’s a knock on his door for the last curtain call. 

“That’s me.” He stands up, brushing his lap off without a trace of anything other than professionalism. He’ll leave you wondering what he was going to do. It’s terrible how good he is at this, though you suppose it’s his job to leave people wanting more. “Keep an eye out for me on stage, will you?”

It’s hard not to. Your eyes are polarized to him. Even when something else catches your attention, like fireworks or confetti, he pulls it back. Greedy, that one. 

You’re not the only one. The crowd lives for him. There’s something electric about him on stage. He naturally draws attention with that height and attitude and face, but what happens when he’s performing is inexplicable. You’d call it a religious experience if you believed in a god. 

Fate has never factored into your life, but now you’re starting to consider worship. Gojo performs like he was born to be an idol. 

Keep an eye out for me, he says, as if you’d have any trouble. You’ll dream about him tonight. The way his mouth fits so sensuously over the words of a love song snags your thoughts like a fishhook. Sick desires run through your blood, each more depraved than the last. 

You want to watch him shed his beautiful silk skin for you, become nothing more than man again. You must retract your prior confession. There’s no longing for the altar in you, only a love of sacrilege. 

Gojo asks for coffee easily, as if you’re two normal people and not celebrities with a lot to lose if you were caught together. You can’t let him outdo you, so you agree. These are the reasons why your manager curses your recklessness. Shoko calls it bravery, when she’s feeling sweet on you. 

The second message comes a second later. 

Gojo Satoru 11:25 I only said it to see if you’d agree Here’s my address lol can’t believe you said yes  Attachment 

You think he gives his address out too freely for a man worth 30 million. The feeling only intensifies as you get out of your car and thank your driver. His gates are pearly instead of the standard matte black, a stark declaration of wealth. He’s practically asking for an incident to happen. 

Security buzzes you in. Someone in a white dress - an honest to god maid - leads you to a mini kitchen where Gojo’s waiting. His hair is wet and dripping down his back where his powder blue shirt is darkened to a navy. You thought you had gotten used to overblown displays of money after your first three years in the music industry. Clearly, you were mistaken. 

He looks up as you enter, reading a trashy tabloid as he stirs whipped cream into a tall glass of something that looks more like a sugary heart attack than coffee. 

You’ve never seen his bare face, you realize. Even that moment when you had walked in on him and the makeup artist, he had been nearly done. He looks practically the same without makeup. People with genetic good looks like him only need to enhance their appearance the tiniest amount. 

What really strikes you is how earnest he looks, soft and open-hearted, though that might be because you’ve caught him in his home. This is what you wanted - him without his skin on, naked and without pretense. He’s wearing cotton pajamas and white slippers. 

“I thought you’d come later,” he says. “Sorry I got started without you. I was feeling something sweet.” 

“I’m early, though?”

“I’m always late,” he says with a one shouldered shrug. “Thought you might be too. Guess you’re not my perfect girl after all, huh?” 

You shove his arm off the armrest of his chair to perch on it, ignoring the perfectly good chair across from him. This is better, anyway, easier to talk to him. “Don’t be absurd. I’m everyone’s dream girl.” 

Gojo chuckles. “I like confident women.” 

There’s been a question on your mind for a while. You knew his group was popular, but all this? Maybe you should’ve become an idol after all. 

“Where’s the rest of your band? I thought idols shared rooms.” 

“Some do,” he says. “Not so much when you make it big. But this is my family home, so none of that applies.” 

Gojo Satoru of the Gojo conglomerate. How had you forgotten? It shouldn’t be so easy to ignore something like that. 

Gojo shifts the conversation easily, but you notice. So he doesn’t like the connection, then. “How was the concert?”

“Don’t fish for compliments,” you say, stealing a sip of his drink before it reaches his mouth. It’s too sweet for anyone’s standards. You spit it back into the cup. He takes it from you, eyes it consideringly, and takes a sip anyways. 

Your mouth drops. “You’re so gross.” 

“Only for you, baby,” he moans, humor like a teenage boy. “Call me names again.”

You roll your eyes at him. 

“It’s fine, it’s just saliva. Now tell me the truth. You couldn’t take your eyes off me, could you?” 

They’d probably sooner pop out of your head and roll away than leave the sight of him, but you can’t tell him that after all you’ve said about idols. Instead, you push off your seat to go rummage through his cabinets. He has a fully stocked coffee cart in this room and the very latest espresso machine, all to choose his diabetic monstrosity instead. 

“You don’t need to respond,” he says cheerfully. “Your silence tells me everything I need to know.” 

“Do you think you know me that well?” You shoot back. His fridge is so big you think you could fit into it. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you’ve registered that he’s moved from his seat as well, and now stands just behind you. 

“Of course I know you,” he says. “I understood you the moment we met.” 

“You’re very confident,” you note. 

You have a weakness for confident men. 

“So you liked my concert. Can I come to yours?” 

You imagine Gojo in a mosh pit for a second. It sends you into a laughing fit while he stands there, bemused. You can’t shake the incongruous picture of him, with his face like a carefully crafted porcelain doll, getting rowdy and wild with your fans. Ridiculous. Never in a million years.

“We don’t have VIP seats,” you warn him. 

“So?” 

“So it can get dangerous.” 

“Aw, you do care about me.” 

“I care about the fat lawsuit your company’s going to send me when their moneymaker breaks his leg at my concert. It’s not happening.” 

“You scared?” 

“No, but maybe you should be.”

“Come on,” he says. When had he gotten so close? It’s distracting. “I know you’ll take care of me.” 

Gojo had invited you to his concert. It’s only right to return the favor. An idea starts forming in your head, though you’re not sure it’s a good one. You tell him anyway.

Usually when soundcheck is over, you have a little bit of downtime to relax backstage. You’re expecting someone tonight, however. 

A rough knock on the door announces Satoru Gojo, spoken in your security guard’s rough voice. Well, he really introduces him as pretty boy idol, but you can guess who it is. 

He looks discomfited, a rare occurrence, as he closes the door behind him. 

“What’s with you?” 

“You’ve got groupies,” he says, looking rattled. 

You fight a smile. 

“Don’t laugh,” he pouts. “They’re insane. One of them tried to chase me here.” 

You can’t help yourself. A giggle bursts out of you. When he tries to leave, you pin his hand to the handle and coo reassurances at him so he won’t. 

When you head out the door, he surprises you by grabbing your hand. It’s as nonchalant as anything he does, so you rise to the challenge he sets by refusing to react to it. You only separate once you reach the stairs; him to the spot you’ve made for him behind the barricade, you to the stage. 

This is one of your favorite venues, moody and atmospheric. The lights are dimmed to your preferred setting, but your eyes adjust quickly. Your crowd is restless tonight, shifting on their feet as whispers follow raucous laughter through the crowd. Noise on noise, the way you like it. 

The wood of the floor is a little sticky beneath your boots as you walk. That’s history gumming the soles of your shoes, generations of artists before you. You’re starting to feel it now, the electric thrum of pure joy in your blood. 

Shoko is strumming light tunes on her guitar to warm up, her eyes closed. You hope she doesn’t take it too hard that Utahime couldn’t make it tonight, though you know if she’s upset, she’ll channel into her music. 

The crowd settles as the hour draws closer. Shoko’s fingers are liquid now, running through chords effortlessly. You wrap the cord of the microphone around your hands, letting the tension build mindlessly. A stage is like home to you. The crowd plays in the palm of your hand, energy ebbing and flowing as you will it. 

It starts with a guitar solo from Shoko. By then, the crowd is already burning with excitement. The first burst of sound from the speakers has them roaring, cheering even though there’s no lyrics to it. The smallest smile touches her lips as she plays to the crowd, showing off exactly why she’s lead guitar for the greatest band in the world right now. 

You step in on her heels, your voice rising over the music. Back before you knew how this felt, you almost quit singing, annoyed by the sound you were forced into. This is more your tempo. The almost guttural curl to the ends of your words, the rasp of your hoarse voice - this is beautiful to you. 

The crowd is yours. Anything that goes on is within your jurisdiction, higher than any judge or god. You notice everything in your realm. 

People are starting to move now, their bodies falling victim to the music. Their mouthes form the vowels and consonants of the lyrics as their bodies shudder and jerk, chained to the rhythm. Bodies ricochet off each other, love taps of respect for your aggressive voice, soaring above it all. 

In the corner, there’s a violent eye of a storm. You think it’s a particularly enthusiastic dancer - perhaps a circle is about to form - before you realize what’s actually going on. 

A fight is breaking out. You catch a glimpse of snow white hair, realize it’s near the barricade, and your stomach drops. 

It’s Gojo and another man, ignoring the security guard trying to separate them. You try to stay professional and play through it, but then you see red. 

Gojo’s hand flies to his face, his nose dripping with crimson. He doesn’t look any more injured than that, but you’re angry enough to step in now. Shoko stops as soon as you hold your hand out, the music veering into a screeching crash. 

“You, in the black tee!” You realize you should’ve been more specific when what looks like the entire crowd looks down at their equally black shirts. “No, the one that just punched Gojo Satoru. Yeah, you, asshole! No fighting at my gigs! Especially not my guests!” 

He had the audacity to yell back. “I was just showing him a warm welcome!” 

You climb off the stage. Gojo didn’t show any fear while he got hit, but there’s concern in his eyes now as you drop to the ground by him. 

“Wait,” he says, “wait, wait. I don’t think you should-“ 

“Shut the fuck up,” you snap, pushing him behind you until his back hits the stage. “Let me handle this.” 

You get in the man’s face. His eyes are bloodshot - drunk, probably. “Who do you think you are, starting shit at my shows?”

“You’ve sold out,” he slurs. Definitely drunk. “He doesn’t belong here.” 

“You don’t get to tell me who can or can’t come to my goddamn show,” you snarl, vicious and low. “Get out.” 

“You can’t-“

“Get out before I make them drag you out.” 

When he doesn’t move, you motion security over. “Does anyone else have any complaints?” 

The crowd is eerily silent for something that was moving like a beast with one mouth before, singing in unison. You clamber back on stage, turning around to grab Gojo’s hand. 

“What?” He says. 

“Up. Now.” Your tone brooks no argument. You haul him up with you. He stands awkwardly as you drag him towards your mic stand, your arm slung around his shoulder. There’s still blood on his face. 

“Gojo Satoru is a very dear friend of mine,” you announce into the mic. You see the confused looks in the crowd. Even Shoko seems wary. This wasn’t on the schedule. “If you're a real rock fan, you'd know that music is more than genre. I get it! I didn’t think idols were anything more than corporate shills either-“ 

“Harsh,” he whispers under his breath, unable to control himself even now. 

“But he proved me wrong. He’s a real performer, just like I am, and I expect the same respect for him that you give to me.”

This is your crowd. They listen. Someone whistles. 

You sit Gojo down, right by your feet. He gives you a bemused smile as the concert starts again, you moving around him like one of your props. He spends most of the concert lounging back, watching you through half lidded eyes. 

It might’ve been enough excitement for one night, but you’ve always been the type to push your boundaries. When the idea springs into your head, you act on impulse, not giving yourself too much time to think about it as you pull Gojo to his feet. 

You’re really manhandling him tonight, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He’s only a little startled as you pull the mic away from your face to get into his space. 

You misjudged the distance. Your forehead knocks into his, just enough to sting, but not really hurt. “Do you want to try something?” Your voice is a whisper to not get picked up by the mic. 

“Give it to me,” he says, and his smile is a bloody thing. 

When you angle the mic towards him, you’re careful about not hitting him this time. 

His voice works surprisingly well for rock. You weren’t sure he could pull off such a sound change, but he surprises you every time, matching you best for beat. 

When he pulls back, your hand snakes into his hair and yanks him towards you and the mic again. He sings wholly at your command, being jerked around by your desires. It’s an inferno on stage, sweat pouring down both your faces. Behind you, the crowd is screaming so loudly it nearly deafens you. 

Not a bad encore, you think as you towel off in your dressing room. Shoko left for a cool down with a bottle of ice water right before you, her post concert ritual, but the look she shot you says that you need to talk. You’ll deal with the consequences later. 

For now, it’s enough to have Gojo shaking with leftover adrenaline against you as you sit him down in your chair. You press a bottle of ice against his face, watching him shiver. He’s still pretty with all the blood. Prettier, somehow, like some teenage wet dream of a vampire from a young adult novel. 

You want to lick the sweat out of the hollow of his collar bones. Instead, you talk to him to rid yourself of your insane thoughts. It’s always a little crazy in your head after a good stage. 

“Well?” You demand. “How was it?” 

He tilts his head, considering. It makes you nervous. Now that you know how good of a performer he is, it almost feels like a test to receive his judgment. 

“I think I’m in love with you,” he says, slowly. 

“That good, huh?” You smile, trying to ignore the aching pressure behind your ribcage. You shouldn’t care so much what he thinks. Why does it matter? 

“Yeah,” he says. “When are you free? I gotta plan our date.”

“Huh?” 

“That was so sexy,” he says. “I was thinking about taking it slow, but I’m not going to last if I wait. I want to date you. I want to marry you.” 

He’s starting to worry you. “Did you have a heat stroke or something? That’s really fast. Really, really fast, Gojo.” 

“I’ve never been more clearheaded in my life,” he says. You only believe him when the medic clears him of any injuries, even the nose. 

“We can talk about marriage later,” you say. “Why don’t you tell me about the date for now?”

Two weeks later, you’re Gojo’s plus one to his first movie premiere. It’s his debut as an actor, and it couldn’t be a better one. He escaped most of the negative pushback that usually comes with transitioning between those two industries, being naturally good at everything. Still, he had worked hard, and you’re proud of him. 

It feels like you’re the only one, because the man himself doesn’t even care about his accomplishment. He’s too busy being delighted about hiding in plain sight. The cameras flash at you as you walk across the red carpet, arm in arm with Gojo. Your stylist had coordinated with his. It could almost pass for a couple’s outfits.  

“You know,” he says conspiratorially. “When you defended me at the concert, I got hard.” 

“I didn’t need to know that.” 

“It was really hot.” 

“You know there are people who can read lips, right?”

“I wish they would figure out what I’m saying.”

“Alright,” you say, rolling your eyes. “Let’s get inside.” 

Dating Gojo is nothing like what you’d expected and everything like you’d expected. He keeps surprising you, doing wild things to get your attention that you never thought an idol would be willing to get their hands dirty with. He might be even more of a daredevil than you are, constantly pushing the boundaries of what you both can get away with before you’re found out. 

In a way, it’s almost like you’re asking for it. You’re both straining at the bit to claim each other. It doesn’t come as a surprise when it does happen, then. 

“Huh,” Gojo says over ramen. “We got papped.” 

Utahime, understandably, freaks. “What? That’s not funny.”

“Oh yeah?” You say. “Are the pictures good at least?”

“You know we always look good. Could’ve gotten a better angle, but whatever.” 

Utahime’s working herself into a minor tizzy in the corner. “Guys, I need you to be more serious about this. This is bad! This is so bad!”

Shoko looks up from her phone and chips on the couch, lying flat on her stomach. “Hate to agree, but she’s right. What are you going to do about it?”

“Nothing,” you shrug. “What’s the point? There’s nothing we can do about it. They have the evidence.” 

It had been a good run. Two blissful months of peace and quiet. Sneaking around had been fun, giving you that thrill you loved every time someone failed to recognize you and Gojo behind your stupid sunglasses. Still, it was bound to fail at some point. You’re honestly surprised it lasted for as long as it had. You can’t be mad. Two months is more than you could’ve asked for. 

“Well,” Gojo says. “Wee-llll.” 

“Spit it out,” Utahime gripes at him. 

You take another bite of ramen, content to let them argue without you. 

“There is something we could do,” Gojo hedges. 

“You’re so annoying,” Shoko says. 

“No one thinks you’re funny,” Utahime chimes in. 

“Hey! She thinks I’m funny!” Gojo frowns. “Tell them you think I’m funny.” 

“Sorry, babe. I never lie to my girls.” 

“Whatever,” Gojo sighs. “Guess you don’t want to hear my genius idea then.” 

“Don’t be a brat,” you tease, knuckling his head. He loves it when you roughhouse with him. 

“What if…” The hesitation is real this time. You can tell the difference between when he’s faking it or not. He’s a good showman, but you know him. You place an encouraging hand on his knee. 

“What if we went public first?” He says it all in one breath. 

You take a moment, turning the idea over in your head. It would wrest back control of the narrative to your team. Even if you might get backlash, it wouldn’t be at someone else’s hands, beholden to their mercy. You like it. 

“Sure,” you say. 

Gojo gapes at you. ‘That easy?’ His thoughts are written all over his face. 

“Why not?” You offer him one of your easy smiles. “I’ve always wanted to say you were mine, anyway.”

[kidstemplatte]

random papa headcanons

i genuinely don’t know where this came from haha. they range from zodiac signs to hobbies to mental health so sorry for the inconsistency lol. please enjoy <3

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primo

- primo is one of the most kind and caring people to exist in the world. he’s very intelligent as well- he has a mind suited for many jobs. sometimes he wonders what he would’ve done if he didn’t follow in his father’s footsteps.

- he’s a great writer in all regards- poetry, essays, speeches, all of it. he did exceptionally in school and was very humble.

-primo is great at conflict resolution. he’s direct and efficient but considerate of people’s feelings as well.

-generally pretty healthy mentally but has struggled with depression periodically throughout his life.

-i don’t think primo ever planned to be a father, he didn’t even think it was possible considering his responsibilities. but as he got older and reflected upon his life he regrets that he never had children.

- we all know about primo’s legendary garden, but his next project he’s dreaming of is an orphanage in the clergy. or just to overall encourage more inclusion of children :,) (when appropriate ofc haha)

- a hopeless romantic deep down.

-virgo/libra.

secondo

-secondo is a great artist. he likes painting landscapes and scenery. hes also really good at drawing buildings/ architecture. when he was younger he thought maybe he’d be an architect. some of his paintings are hanging around the clergy but nobody knows they’re his.

- good at math but doesn’t enjoy it persay.

- reads a lot of classic novels (and romance books lol) if he’s reading something trashy in public he’ll switch the cover so he isn’t judged and can maintain his reputation ☠️

-i think he’s struggled with depression throughout his life that’s beyond situational. even when he was at his peak, something chemically in his brain just wouldn’t let him fully soak it in.

-extroverted but very distant simultaneously. has a hard time getting vulnerable with people.

-smokes a lot of weed. i think all the papas do tbh

-huge music connoisseur (prestigious metalhead) (will say “name 5 songs” if he sees you wearing a band shirt)

-biiiiiiig leo/capricorn energy.

terzo

- terzo has adhd for sure lmao. he was never diagnosed though.

- he was the walking stereotype for ADHD as a kid: a rambunctious and high-energy boy who struggled in class.

-terzo is very intelligent, though. he just never cared about school too much. he was good at talking his way out of trouble.

-terzo is incredible sensitive to rejection. so much so that he would have a very very hard time confessing his romantic feelings towards someone. (feelings that move beyond sexual attraction)

- his hypersexuality, though he genuinely just loves sex, is often a subconscious quest for dopamine and validation.

- he has a very kind heart, goes out of his way to make people laugh if he sees they’re struggling.

- loooooooooooves to watch reality tv or anything full of drama.

-either a scorpio or a gemini.

-very active online. he’s a little obsessed with reading fan forums and posts. but he also just loves the internet in general

-i think he was the most interactive with fans, he would respond to fan mail most frequently. when he got horny mail from someone he would often respond with equally something equally risqué ☠️but of course when the subject matter was serious or heartfelt he would respond genuinely.

copia

- copia drew comics when he was younger and still does. over time they’ve evolved from mystical stories to simple doodles to get him through the day.

- sometimes he’s a little forgetful and mixes up his papers, so when he confidently hands his mother a comic strip she’s featured in, it’s a little awkward.

- copia loves animals, and he always has. he was afraid of dogs (specifically bigger ones) when he was younger, though. he also likes birds and can identify most species. (so can primo!)

- copia had a little bit of ocd throughout his childhood that’s lessened up over time.

-he also has generalized anxiety that’s lessened after he’s become papa which is shocking

- he has inattentive adhd. he’s an exceptional worker despite his negative symptoms because he pushes himself so hard to succeed. but sometimes he gets a little burnt out and forgets to rest, or spirals into an unmotivated state.

-we all know he’s a huge dork, so to elaborate upon that: he likes star wars, star trek, dc, and comics of all sorts.

-he has a funko pop collection in his office (including one of himself LOL)

-i think he’s a gemini and i’m so passionate about this. that or a pisces.

⋅───⊱༺ 𐕣 ༻⊰───⋅

thanks for reading yall :,)) i have more stuff coming up i promise i’m just not able to work as frequently due to school!! i hope you enjoyed.

<3, alice

[bimbodoggie]

cybersex • (simon “ghost” riley x camgirl!reader)

contents/warnings: fem reader, consensual filming, toys, mean!dom simon, impregnating mention, face sitting, yourself on the shelf position, reader is plus sized, size kink, hair pulling, also simon is an asshole, oh also simon has a jacob’s ladder teehee :3

a/n: i started school and this semester has been beating my ass, MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI!, all art is by @ave661

your job was way easier than simon’s, you’d play dress up and take pretty pictures and videos for thousands of people on the internet….but simon he didn’t mind it because he knew that you were untouchable.

sometimes it did bother him tho, the fact others got to see what was his on the daily, but you could quit anytime you wanted, but this particular day it was different. the way simon was acting was kind of….strange, but then again he’s a 6’2 1/2 man who parades in a skull eggshell mask and the occasional balaclava with gunpowder or charcoal to match

all day your mind was filled by your thoughts of how he’s probably on the verge of breaking up with you right now, but then again this is the same man who spent his free time on base using your photos and videos as jerk bait….the front door creaked open and the sound of his boots and duffle bag hit the floor, its like this man had no trace of sound because next thing you know you two were eye to eye staring at each other.

it was embarrassing to say the least because well, you were naked and vulnerable…the only noise that came from his mouth was a satisfied grunt followed by a quick kiss on the mouth, you decided breaking the silence first was the best thing to do considering…

“are you leaving me?” was the question of the day, he froze, like a deer in headlights…if only you knew that was the complete opposite of what needed to be said from his mouth…once again silence filled the room as he walked over and shut off your camera which made you wonder even more about what his next move was

“you know, i’ve been thinking…that maybe instead of being being the director i get my role of the old pervert, something we can both remember yeah?”

what the fuck…is this the big secret he was storing away in his file cabinet? a fantasy, your mouth opened and closed, simon’s reaction was pretty expected, a hearty laugh a booming one at that…

“cmon use your words i know somewhere in that empty brain of yours you can conjure up a couple words yeah?”

instead of a verbal response which he wanted you just shook your head and ignored him which you would have to pay the price later but who cares at least him leaving you isn’t in the equation.

without warning simon picked you up and put you on the bed, looking you in your eyes to indicate that you either was going to break or he was going to break you.

he lifted his mask and started kissing from your neck all the way down to your malleolus bone, this man knew your body like the back of his hand, all the sensitive spots, where to lick, bite and touch he knew it all. he paused to turn on the camera.

“the first thing you’re gonna do is get on your knees and tell the audience what you’re doing today, then depending on how good you are i’ll let you be in charge for a little how does that sound lovey”

your brain circuited and was now functioning off of the commands from simon you scrambled from the bed to the floor…your big eyes met his lifeless ones.

“hi- hi everyone today i will be letting my boyfriend ghost be in my- my vids”

this was humiliating but you enjoyed every single moment, your mouth met his tip which was glistening with pre and begging to be touched, his cock was decorated with piercing jewelry which was a stimulant for your cunt, with his free hand he grabbed a fistful of hair and guided you to what he wanted to do, after that nothing but grunts and degrading phrases bounced around the walls

before he was remotely close to finishing he then picked you up and fucked into you, it was too much to bare, thousands of people watching you and how your boyfriend abuses your cunt on the daily basis, simon’s hand came into contact with your ass groping it, and leaving marks which will show in the morning

there was a heart shaped, light pink butt plug jewel which sparkled in the reflection of the light, the sounds of skin filled the room as you cried out for him to be gentle, he ignored your plea but instead moved a little closer to the camera putting your holes on display for thousands to see

user239329849: he’s such a lucky man

anon3453905: i would do anything to get my hands on her

simon laughed at the desperation comments that entailed of men and their sick fantasies, but simon was the only one who could act on them…he then put you down and signaled you to sit on his face, as much as you wanted to tell him your cunt was saying too much, you wanted him and needed him…the way his warm tongue consoled your weeping cunt had you in tears, the whining and crying for him to slow down was non existent to him.

he then positioned you to where your face was in the camera while he spread open the globes of your brown ass, “gonna give you a baby, i always know when you’re ovulating, i always track it on my calendar in my phone to make sure i get you pregnant” he rasped as he increased his pace….so much was going on which made you wonder if you could take him or not

he wanted a view of how your skin turned red at the sight of him battering your insides like it was some sick recipe…. “si baby, please im just please” your replied to him as he looked you in the eyes, a light slap from his hand was to question if you were still there or if you was just brainless, you started babbling incoherent sentences which was an indication to simon you were close, he took his hand pressed it again your lower abdomen…you tried you really did but he knew your body like a map

“you really are braindead, just a hole f’me and nothin else yea?”

that sent you overboard, it was enough with the jewelry that decorated his cock, you felt the band in your stomach pop making you to make a mess, it felt as if he planned this, he was sick but you liked it….he then turn your ass and cunt to the camera to show the cum leaking out of your throbbing hole….a sloppy kiss from simon was all you needed, you felt like he was breaking you

“touch her and i will find you personally and kill you”

he then ended the live stream to give you aftercare but deep down you knew he was serious

[bluejeanstrash]

Can you do a headcanons of woozi and his s/o working on good communication in the relationship because woozi is little bit hesitant of showing his emotions, flaws and traits ??? <3333

- this man feels emotions very deeply - both good or bad. he’s got the biggest heart and feels so much but has a really hard time expressing it.

- especially the bad. doesn’t want to burden you with anything because he can just “deal with it”.

- naturally, it leads to a few arguments and you tell him you both need to work on this.

- spends many days stubbornly holding onto the idea that if he’s not bothering you with his problems you should be happy right?

- right?

- eventually realises maybe he’s not right.

- jihoon is 100% the guy who would turn to the internet for advice.

- spends hours on hours on community sites and reads up on how to communicate well with his s/o. and finds out there’s a thing called love language.

- casually drops it in conversation one day and asks you yours.

- feels like he understands you better. and himself.

- would try his hardest to do better. genuinely wants to be more expressive but you also get that it’s not going to happen overnight.

- makes small changes. initially just lets you know something’s bothering him but not what it is. over time, he tells you what’s wrong but doesn’t want to talk about it.

- thinks if he reveals too much you won’t like him as much.

- what if you see a side of him you don’t like? what if you leave?

- with jihoon, i feel like there would one incident which would change everything. like a before and after moment. one time where he opens up to you and he’s just vulnerable and raw. maybe a few tears are shed, worries shared.

- that’s when he realises you’re his safe space.

- feels more comfortable showing you his emotions and the not-so-pretty parts of himself after that.

- outside of music, he feels awkward expressing himself romantically. he’s written you beautiful songs, composed many a melody after you, but when it comes to saying the words? he’s tongue tied.

- shows his emotions more through actions. like spending time with you, engaging with your interests, and finding shared interests.

- you’ve realised over time that that’s his love language and you adore it.

- once in a while will get very emotional about you. and it’ll be triggered by something very random and mundane. like the simplest thing.

- like when you heated up an extra bowl of rice because you knew he’d want another one.

- it truly moves him. you know him. will send you a huge huge huge message like 20 pages long talking about how grateful he is for you and that he loves you.

- they’re very rare but he thinks too many words all the time cheapen his feelings.

- with jihoon it’s a slow climb but once he’s in, he’s there forever.

- just a beautiful, gentle, honest man.

[shall-we-die]

╔‌‌‌‌•°💕༄•°══════════•⊰•°༄༚

{Lovely Boyfriend}

General boyfriend headcanons.

#NSFW (Atsushi) || #NSFW (Dazai)

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↬[Fandom]•⊰ {Bungo Stray Dogs}࿐

↬[Characters]•⊰↴

{Atsushi Nakajima || Dazai Osamu}࿐

↬[Warnings]•⊰ {None}࿐

☰[Main list]•⊰────┈┈{0002}┈──╮

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╰┈➤Likes/Reblogs are appreciated࿐

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• Atsushi is a very giving and loyal partner, and he'll always strive to make his dear y/n happy and taken care of.

• He'll do little acts of service, like bring you your favorite drink or help you with a task when he sees that you're feeling stressed or overwhelmed by something.

• Atsushi is the type to shower you with lots of compliments and reassurance. He's always looking for small, meaningful ways to show his love, like picking you up after work or school with a bouquet of flowers.

• Atsushi likes to cook for you and tries to make food that you like, even if he's not the greatest cook. (He'll often surprise you with freshly made cookies or cakes.)

• He's the type to write down his thoughts and feelings in a secret diary, and he leaves little messages for you in there to find. He likes to surprise you with small gifts or thoughtful gestures, like a single flower or a note with your favorite quote on it.

• He's incredibly loyal, loving and affectionate. He's always there for you and he'll constantly shower you with attention, love and affirmation.

• He's attentive, and he listens carefully to your thoughts and feelings.

• He loves to give you spontaneous kisses and hugs, no matter where they are.

• He's always the first one to say "I love you" in your relationship. (He'll be so embarrassed.)

• He'll randomly plan surprise dates for you, like going on a picnic in the park or taking you out to dinner and a movie.

• Whenever you're watching a show together, he'll put his head on your lap or shoulder and snuggle with you.

• Atsushi can be a bit clingy and insecure, and he might have a tendency to be very possessive and protective of you.

• He can be self-isolating or distant at times, and he has a hard time opening up or discussing his feelings. Sometimes he can be a bit anxious or insecure in his relationship, and he worries that he's not good enough for you.

• He can also sometimes struggle to express his emotions or show his vulnerability to you.

• But, he always does his best to show his love and appreciation for you, even if he's not the best at expressing it in words.

• He's very sweet and compassionate, and he's always looking for ways to help and support you.

• In a relationship, Dazai is the one who makes physical contact between you normal. He's always the first to hold your hand, lean on your shoulder, or kiss you, and he doesn't mind making the first move.

• Dazai is flirty... let's say he's too affetional towards you. (Idk why, but I feel like he's the one who can flirt with all the women in town, but with you...no. I feel that he stutters and doesn't know how to speak to someone for the first time.)

• You know? he's very good with his hands, so he likes to play with your hair and try out new hairstyles he sees on the internet. (Well, maybe he doesn't care much about himself, but caring about you becomes part of his habits.)

• Speaking of habits... his life and habits become  healthier because of you. For example, he tries to be more responsible!

• He tries to be more organized, he even tries to learn how to cook. (Although in my opinion he knows how to make junk food, and his foods has an extremely good taste. But this time, he tries to learn how to cook healthy foods for you.) Of course, the first few times, either the kitchen explodes or you have to eat half-burnt food. But he's progressing and getting better very fast.

• Dazai is extremely clingy and loves physical contact. He likes to show off for you and often pulls stunts or tricks to impress you to make you laugh. He also really loves talking about how amazing you are to his friends. (RIP Kunikida's ears) He will hug you all day long and this makes Kunikida mad.

• When you're away from him, he constantly sends you emotional messages and is upset that you -his lovely belladonna- are away from him.

• He'll do his best to make you happy and laugh. In fact, he's always whispering funny jokes in your ear. Dazi also sends you funny videos even when you're sitting next to each other.

• However, he has a hidden side... a very dark and scary side that he doesn't show you. He's so overprotective, he doesn't want you to get hurt at all.

• He loves to tease and joke with you, but is also very considerate of your feelings and well-being. Dazai always walks outside on the sidewalk to protect you from cars or other harms.

• Little hint: He likes taking your hand in the street, squeezing his fingers between yours.

• He's surprisingly a thoughtful and considerate partner who tries to make life easier for you.

• He can be really sweet and gentle, but he also has a teasing and self-righteous side that can sometimes come off as a bit mean. He is not very good at dealing with his emotions and can attack you with words when he feels hurt or insecure.

• When stressed or feeling down, he can be distant or withdrawn.Bad at vulnerability and often tries to use humor or sarcasm to deflect deeper feelings. He can be sarcastic and hard to read and sometimes has trouble showing or expressing his feelings towards them.

• Despite his negative attitudes, he tries to be loving and considerate towards you, and is always there for you when you are feeling down or struggling with something.

• He really loves you.

[joohanisms]

xdh + soft intimacy 💭💫

i'm not god's strongest soldier. i need fluff too.

cw: disgustingly sweet fluff, suggestive for jungsu, junhan and jooyeon, biting in jooyeon's, 1 little gross comment in ode's.

gunil

soft slaps on the ass.

drying your hair for you <3333333

getting ready for bed together. just being side by side with him in parallel play fashion while you put on your skincare, brush your teeth, etc.

if he's done sooner than you are, his arms are around your waist and his chin is on your shoulder, just holding onto you while you finish getting ready to finally join him under the covers and cuddle until you fall asleep

wearing soft, comfy pyjamas to bed every night. he might have even got you a matching set :-( or maybe he bought a single set and gave you the shirt so you're literally wearing the same pyjamas :-(

likes to wear said shirt to bed when you're away </3

jungsu

taking showers together !!

it doesn't even have to go the sexual route (although sometimes it does), only washing up and helping each other with gentle touches is more than enough.

would know your favorite shower temperature by heart :-) my loveliest.

would take your shampoo and wash your hair soooo gently, massaging your scalp .. if you have any tangles, he'll take the conditioner and slowly go through them.

but as much as he loves taking care of you, he loves being taken care of.

wash his hair with the fancy hair treatment shampoo, massage his scalp, make sure none of the suds fall too close to his eyes. he melts every time.

when it comes to washing your bodies, this is where the danger is at. sometimes you'll get too touchy for it to be .. sfw .. but! most of the time it's just soooooo tender.

body wash suds everywhere, hands everywhere, the occasional tickle and/or pinch..

also, if he was alone and he missed you for whatever reason, he'd steal your body wash so he can try and curb the longing :-( it never worked.

jiseok

looklooklook. sciency booky boy. if you're in uni he's coming with you to wherever you go to study.

he knows practicing guitar might make you lose your focus, so he likes to read or look into science thingies!!

baby likes being close to you and no matter how different your lifestyles might be, he likes to be included :-)

won't let you overwork yourself though.

if you're in public, he'll gently pull you out of your bubble and suggest you go eat something, take a walk, whatever.

though if you're home, he can be more affectionate. he'll come behind you and massage your scalp, run his hands along your body and go baby, let's rest a little, yeah? i have snacks ready for you!!!

if you end up dozing off beside him on the couch he'll nearly pull a muscle trying to get a blanket without waking you up. you wake up because of the jostling and he's actually a little relieved tbh.

will go c'mon, let's nap in a bed. we don't want your neck to be stiff in class tomorrow :-(

seungmin

i'm so sorry to say this. if you have acne he Will go can i pop it pwease... idk if this is a common couple practice throughout the world but it is where i live . peak levels of intimacy = popping your partner's pimples for the oddly satisfying vibe

loves online shopping with you!!!

you would sit together with a laptop on your laps and go babeee you'd look so good in this !!!!

cocky little bastard he is, he might go you should see me/yourself without it ;-) the only way to make him stop talking or smiling like a fool is to kiss him.

then you often end up saving money because you simply forgot about shopping lmaooo

on a softer note, you'd would window shop through the internet, falling into rabbit holes. when you realise, you're looking into real state in minnesota or baby shoes.

even though those seem funny and really far away, your hearts grow a little warmer <3

hyeongjun

idk personally i love i adore boys that are not afraid to be vulnerable.

okay, when the pair of you were still too fresh, too shaky, jun would be more reserved and think he'd be bothering you.

when the relationship gets established/stable though, he would get clingier, softer, coming to you with his worries, leaving you to pet his hair and reassure him :-(

when taking a nap he'll cuddle up to you, head under your chin and making himself as small as possible, and it's so endearing to see your lanky boyfie trying to be tiny so he can be babied and cooed at .. little does he know you'd do that to him even if he was 3m tall.

now, sex wise: when he feels vulnerable and in need of affection, he might go 🥺 could you. uh. lead tonight 🥺 and he'd be theeeee softest warmest loveliest little sub

jooyeon

holding your titties non sexually when you are alone.

cuddling? boob in hand. napping? head on boob. stressed? free stressball.

they're just really warm and soft :-(

omnomnomnom his love language is biting.

will lovingly bite any body part in reach of his mouth. nips at your neck just to watch goosebumps rise in your arms.

might've bitten you too hard once .. was So apologetic, he never wanted to hurt you :-(

but when the bite would bruise eventually, he would like it a little too much. he won't open this can of worms right now though

[borderlinebelle]

🌎🔮👁️

I JUST finished filming my first real full length YouTube video for the first time in over 2 years! 😳

I don’t even think it’s shit. i think … i think it’s quite vulnerable and thoughtful and cute and fun and silly and honest and open and it resembles the workings of my mind in recovery.

wanna maybe idk discuss mental health with me or whatever?

Shit has been weird here [🌎] for a while 👁️ no?

let’s start with decatastrophizing! 🤭

mountains into mole hills 🤝

ur invited friend, to watch me scale my “hard thing” RAW & here’s hoping it inspires you to SCALE your “hard things” too bestie!!

scaling “hard things” together! on my channel and through my tumblr ramblings & through all my art mediums i share happily and humbly with you 🤭

because those “hard things” are always so much more mf easy with a friend 🤷🏽‍♀️

{even if it’s just an internet friend🤘🏽(often the best type)}

see the dramatic af photo below ⤵️

in it, i am fully delusional, rubbing a $12 fur coat in my barely breathing Nissan Sentra 2014. i am about to film the surprise middle to my FIRST FULL EPISODE IN 2 YEARS that i FIRMLY believe 👁️ will begin a long and weird and successful career in ART and CONTENT and CULTURE creation surrounding mental health and recovery and the STATE OF THINGS AROUND HERE ↪️🌎🌍🌏↩️

i did it folks..

I’m back.

EPISODE ONE : SUNDAY MARCH 2ND

👍🏽LINK BELOW👍🏽

BUT YOU CAN’T LEAVE

LEAVE CAN YOU? ….

& i know i still have to ✍🏽 EDIT the episode 😅 but …

you don’t know me. Oh.

I’m Borderline Belle. Hi friend! 😅 wow and i trapped you here in this AD so EARLY in our friendship.. but luckily you are fine. 🤭

You are after all my #1 employee. 🙂

and i am after all that: little miss every mf thing & with a CLEAR GOAL of finishing something as soft and heartwarming AS A FIRST EPISODE TO YOUR NEW FAVORITE GUILTY GIGGLE (made just for you) 🤤 to devour on SUNDAY MARCH 2ND to beat off the Sunday Scaries …

I’VE ALREADY BEGUN!

DEAR TUMBLR: im real sORRY I MADE YOU LOOK AT ALL THIS. DONT BE MAD AND FREAK OUT IN THE COMMENTS PLS. ILL CRY. IS MARKETING. PLS. TY.

If you run up my subscriber count WITH notifications turned on: i promise 🙂 it’s likely 🙂 I’ll never darken your doorstep ever again weary tumblr user. 😈

[dirtytransmasc]

Miles 42 headcanon;

though it takes time for him to become as soft and vulnerable as he is, Ganke is one of the few, if not only people, who he can truly be "weak" with, to any extent, so he tends to be really soft and mushy and romantic with him, to the point that its almost unnerving.

he's so used to playing this cold, bad boy, "I feel nothing" attitude all the time, being the prowler and his uncles mentee, but its exhausting, so when he's with the one person who expects almost nothing of him, he just stops and lets himself go.

he just wants to be held and loved, he wants to be a nerd and talk about the book he just finished, he wants to watch cartoons and anime, he wants to spend all day in his pajamas and never quite lose the warmth of sleep, he wants to just be a kid, and Ganke lets him do that.

some days he just lets himself drop into verbal shutdown and lay in Ganke's bed with him. maybe they cuddle, maybe they don't, sometimes touch is too much, even when Miles is clearly in a soft space. maybe Ganke will talk and Miles will listen, maybe there's music on, or maybe Miles has noise cancelling headphones in. its fine, his needs are fine, because he's with Ganke, and its ok to be weak with him. maybe they play videogames, or Miles reads and Ganke traverses the internet doing gods knows what, or they throw on a movie, maybe they sit in the silence doing nothing but enjoying the company. whatever it is, its good, its safe, its ok.

Miles is a little spoon, when not on guard, and enjoys feeling his boyfriends arms around him, feeling the rise and fall of his chest, his own hands reaching out to touch his face or his hair or to hold onto him. he's safe in Gankes arms, he doesn't have to be the Prowler there, he doesn't have to be the "man of the house", he doesn't have to be anything more than a kid.

[thecatduet422]

All I Want

hawks x reader one shot

Rating: Teen

Tags: romance, fluff, holiday themed

Summary: You struggle to come up with the perfect gift for Keigo...

xmas fic exchange for @lou-struck!

word count: 2k

All I Want

He hated flying in the snow. Keigo never said it, but you could tell.

He would walk through the door and the first thing you noticed was his wings, slumped down with fatigue, feathers falling out everywhere. And even then, Hawks seemed to not care. He would just step inside with a hidden smile.

It was small, but there was more feeling in it than any other smile he's ever had on patrol. You could see it lying underneath; soft, calm, almost vulnerable, now that you think about it. 

You told yourself, He's just happy to be inside.

Selfishly, you liked to believe you're the only one who's seen it; the subtle glow of light that waves through Keigo's face when he takes that first step in.

You know it's a fantasy, but you've long decided that it didn't matter anyway. The smile alone was enough, and you would do anything to keep seeing it.

But then your eyes would travel to the dark circles under his eyes. Then to his hair, wild and damp, sprinkled with snow. Then finally, the wings, with the lower feathers dragging on the floor, the upper half ruffled from the cold.

It was enough to break your heart. Especially when you knew Keigo didn't need to be here.

So you tried to make it as easy as possible for him. You always had towels folded neatly by the door. You added more blankets to drape over the couch. You started plating cookies on a regular basis, and you even started making hot cocoa around the time Keigo always showed up.

And despite the teasing persistence of your friends, you honestly weren't trying to win him over or anything. You really just wanted him to do nothing. Nothing but eat, drink, and relax. Breathe.

You had a feeling Keigo was catching onto you, but he didn't say anything, at least not yet. He would act cheerfully sly, play along with your game, and when you peeked a glance at him, you would catch it- the smile again, full and unhindered.

You told Keigo to take it easy, to take more breaks in between patrols. You even told him he didn't have to visit so much, if need be. He could just go to his own place after work. You would understand.

But he didn’t listen. Instead, Keigo just pinched your cheek affectionately.

Don't worry about me, little bird. I'm doing just fine.

And of course, that only made you more stubborn to make things easier for him.

One particular night, you noticed his wings were particularly droopier than usual, and so you suggested using a blow dryer on them.

And oh, how that will live in your brain.

Keigo, sighing and melting against you, as his feathers ruffled with bliss, absolutely entranced by the hot hair breezing through his wings.

And even though the sheer memory had you fluttering into little pieces, you told yourself, it's nothing. 

You would go to do simple things; toss him a blanket, grab him a mug, a cookie. And through the actions, you found yourself begging again, Take a break. Just one day off.

And Keigo would pat your head, telling you again.

It's the job, chickadee. I'm fine.

Just the curse of being Number Two.

But then, again, you would see the self-sacrifice harboring within him. The lines of exhaustion etched onto his face as Keigo passed out on the couch, too tired to wake up.

Your decision was made as you threw the blanket over him, his feathers fluttering slightly as you did so. 

You were getting him something for the holidays. Something just for him, dammit.

You asked Keigo about it once, and of course, he just smiled, saying your company more than enough…

Fuck! How was that supposed to help you?! 

You guess you could try something for the cold; a scarf, a hat, a jacket… but then, Keigo had more than enough of that stuff from his agency. Maybe there was something you could buy for his wings?

You tried searching on the internet but of course, everything you found would just affect his flying. There was nothing you could get that would help him. And then again, if there really was something, wouldn't the agency have come up with it already?

You could try getting his favorite coffee or candy. That would be a safe bet, but… you wanted something sentimental. He's Hawks, the Winged Hero, dammit. What the hell could you give him that he didn't already have?

Diving into your regular holiday rituals of decorating and baking, you pondered over it helplessly, until you got to the point where you were absolutely, completely and utterly, stumped. Brain dead.

You couldn't think of anything.

Getting your home ready for the holidays suddenly felt sour. You finally had someone to share it with, and you couldn't even think of anything to get him. All you could do was just, be there, bumbling around like an idiot while Keigo-

"Ack!" you screamed, cut out from your own mumbling thoughts as Keigo perched in front of your window, scaring the shit out of you.

He smiled at you and waved.

You huffed, grumpily taking off your apron before going to meet him at the door.

And yet, you still found yourself smiling when opening the door.

"Hey."

"Hey!" he called back joyfully. 

And again, that smile was almost enough to brighten your mood. You felt yourself start to relax, sink into the fact that Keigo was here again.

But then you caught the mischievous look in his eye.

"What?" you asked suspiciously, crossing your arms.

But Keigo just moved around you, heading into the kitchen for cookies. His wings were tucked securely behind him, shielding his back, the bottom feathers dragging on the floor.

You sighed defeatedly and followed, heading into the kitchen to find Keigo already polishing off a cookie.

His one arm was precariously hidden behind his back.

You leaned against the wall. "So… whatcha got there?"

"Oh, nothing much," Keigo told you with a mouth full of cookie, crumbs falling down the corners of his mouth.

And then he set that stupid smile on you again, making your stomach flip with excitement but also churn with dread.

Keigo got you a gift.

And you had nothing for him.

Fuuuuuuck, you could facepalm yourself right now.

"Keigo, listen-" you sighed, deciding to confess it now before the real embarrassment began, "- you really don't have to get me anything. Really. I couldn't even get anything for you!"

"But I already bought it!" he defended, holding up the box for you. It was small, fitting easily into the palm of his hand, wrapped prettily in shiny red paper- as red as his wings, you noted- and tied together with a glittery gold bow.

It was way too small to be something like a candle, or a new set of kitchen utensils, or anything else you would freely accept as a gift.

No, you thought, feeling your stomach drop.

 It's jewelry.

"Really, Keigo. You don't have to. It's too much," you told him, shooing away the gift.

"You haven't even seen it yet. At least open it first," Keigo reasoned, charming his way in. "I did wrap it myself, you know…"

And even though he appeared cocky, the look in his eyes was so pleading, you found breaking. You hesitated.

"Okay," you finally sighed, holding out your hand for the gift.

Keigo looked so proud of himself as he gave you the box, but all you could do was catch the sad sight of his feathers again, now noticing that he was missing quite a few. There were also some tears in his jacket…

"Do you want to change first?" you offered. "I'm sure it was a long patrol. Don't you-"

"You're not getting out of this, little bird," Keigo told you affectionately, but there was also a tone of finality behind it. He was putting his foot down.

You unwrapped the gift, eyes still warily glued to the wings. Then you felt the velvet box in your hand, it's smooth surface prompting you to admire it for a moment before opening it cautiously.

You were pleasantly surprised to see it was a necklace, the slim gold chain swooping down to reveal a small pendant of a songbird, small and reflective, matching its link effortlessly. And, you had to admit, the bird looked cute, with its tiny little body in mid-flight.

"Thank you. I love it," you honestly told him, relieved to see that it wasn't some extravagant, overly expensive piece infused with diamonds or whatever. You really did love it. You could imagine yourself wearing it everyday, actually.

"Here." Keigo gently took the box from you, watching with amusement as your smile naturally grew across your face. He worked through the paper and ties holding the necklace together and held  it out for you when it was finally free, motioning for you to turn around.

You followed, feeling the cool metal drape around your collarbone, Keigo's fingers brushing the back of your neck lightly.

You turned back around, but he stayed in place, still close to you as he admired his gift proudly, cautiously adjusting it so that the bird rested on the center of your chest. As he did so, you caught the warmth radiating from in eyes, even though the rest of him was cold. You knew. You could feel it. But Keigo didn't show it nor did he care, his eyes staying on you dearly. Lovingly.

And you couldn't even get him anything. You're such a terrible friend.

"Aw, crap," you cried, guilt instantly crushing you. You turned away from him.

"Hey, hey, hey! What's wrong, little bird?" Keigo asked, panicked yet gentle as he moved to grab your shoulder, getting you to look back at him. He huffed softly in amusement. "Is it really that bad?"

You shook your head, eyes stinging slightly with tears. "I really couldn't get you anything. I'm so sorry, Keigo."

"C'mon now," he crooned, tucking your head into his chest as he trapped you in a hug. You had a feeling if his wings weren't in the state they were in, he would hold them up around you, securing you in him. "It's alright, little bird. Really. It's a gift just to come home with you."

"Home?" you asked timidly, muffled by the hold he had on you. Keiho loosened his grip so you could look up at him. You suddenly felt shy, hearing the word.

He really didn't mean that, did he?

"Yeah, home." Keigo smiled fully, tightening his arms back around you. "More so than my place anyway."

And the almost sad, almost pained strain on his face made you realize, Keigo wasn't just coming over for company. He actually felt at peace here, with you. It was what you wanted all along. And now that you actually had it, it all suddenly became clear.

You moved out of his grasp to go to a nearby drawer. You opened and rummaged through it for a moment before you found it.

And there it was

You held it out for him to see, your own proudful smile gracing your features.

A key, shiny and silver. A perfect opposite to your necklace.

"Since you like it here so much," you joked shyly, carefully placing the key into his palm.

And the secret look of happiness Keigo always wore suddenly magnified. It was warm. Real. No longer was the cool facade of Hawks there. Right now, you were just seeing Keigo. One hundred percent.

The smile you were fighting for. 

You don't know who moved first, but suddenly you're wrapped up in Keigo. You, holding onto the lapels of his jacket, and him, wrapping his arms around your lower back. The both of you felt your lips clash together desperately, deeply, the both of you finally expressing all of your worry and needing and love into this one final move.

It was a dream come true for you.

Eventually, you both broke away,  almost timidly, but you still remained close, foreheads touching as Keigo smiled down at you and you up at him.

'Thank you for the present, little bird," he murmured to you.

"No problem," you joked quietly before moving to kiss him again. "Welcome home."

[loveyourlovelysoul]

I think this era of social medias and fast internet connection and communication is only triggering our urgency in receiving (and reacting), making us forget that for some things we need time. Even (and especially) when it comes to relationships.

We try to know the other immediately, to know everything of them and then think we don't have anything else to ask/tell them (but life goes on? stuff happens?). We tend to stop to superficial topics and understanding of the other person, we avoid certain topics fearing they may be judge us or use them against us (we lost trust: but we need to remind ourselves our trust in others is not related to our self worth. We're not responsible of what others do with our vulnerability, nor it changes our worth or we should feel guilty about having trusted the wrong person: we cannot control anything and anyone outside of us and we cannot call ourselves naive if another breaks our trust). We don't talk about negative stuff, about our feelings, our wishes, our favorite stuff, our hobbies, our passions... we don't try to share them much or invite the other to something we enjoy (and vice versa). And this too blocks the interaction on a superficial level and pretty soon as well.

I think we stopped working for our relationships, isolating in a more comfortable way of thinking (actually projecting, even after two superficial chats) "I don't have anything to tell them anymore", "They must be thinking this, doing that, liking this..." instead of asking, and feeling lonely. We kinda stopped being interested in the other and wait for the other to be interested in us and show they care and think about us (out of past trauma okay, but different person won't necessarily think as us or people from our past). And we don't even share about our loneliness... because what if they judged us? But friends, or people we should share a deep connection with, don't judge/criticize us to make us feel bad (if they do, they're not friends and it's probably them projecting on us anyway). They eventually give us suggestions and other povs to make us grow and help us (same thing we can do for them). And anyway we can always have a talk on that, confronting each other's pov and grow from it: even arguments can help us grow together with someone, it's okay if things don't go well/perfectly everyday, it's okay to have bad days, it's okay to not talk everyday... in any type of relationship. It doesn't mean someone will leave us or we need to leave before they do it to us. We need to remember we're two different people and the only thing we can do is communicate. Always. With our heart. Love and friendships are choices we make also withour minds, with our will to try and not give up immediately after the first difficult situation. Together with the other person's will.

So why this huge self sabotage tendencies in relationships? Why we prefer to stay home and feel lonely, resentful to everyone not caring for us and relying on internet for companionship, maybe ending up comparing our life with others' (fake images we see online) and feel even less worthy of love and understanding? Why don't we just change our pov and try to be more open and vulnerable? Maybe even going a little more deep after we get comfortable with the other? Why do we run away (give up?) so fast? We cannot always wait for others to take the first step, we can take the risk too, we can show interest as well (actually, we should or the other will only feel used or uninteresting and lose the will to communicate on the long run). We can accept if someone is busy and we can allow them time too ofc. It doesn't necessarily mean they don't like us. Not everything is about us and our worth. We probably need to re-learn how to slowly water our relationships and care for them as we'd do with a plant: we have to wait and be patient and consistant to get flowers when we start from seeds. We may even deal with aphids as it grows, but we can get rid of them if we take good countermeasures (if we communicate openly and stay vulnerable, find compromise and a good balance with the other: both people need to feel respected, free, understood and cared for).