#this was a really cute idea in my head and i think the execution of it's okay ?

[deadpoets]

JESS MARIANO + SNOOPY (x,x)

[britneyshakespeare]

i create an animated adaptation of shakespeare's henry vi plays which is mostly faithful to traditional setting and costume practices except, with absolutely no comment or explanation, every character is a chicken

[kianamaiart]

Growing an audience takes time and getting people to care about your characters can often take more time. I've done a bunch of OCs in the past but none of them really got traction until my IDWTBAMG OCs. I steadily grew my social media following for well over a decade. A lot of checking socialblade, looking at analytics and generally drawing/posting everyday. I have a whole doc available about this type of stuff.

There's no particular shortcut other than happening to go viral or getting really lucky. But I will say "branding" or carving out a niche for yourself over time helps. Although I've been in a number of different fandoms over the past 15 years I've been on the internet, the kind of art I do has been pretty consistent. Lots of shorter, light hearted comics or vignettes highlighting relationships (be them romantic, platonic or familial) and people started enjoying my work for my writing style more so than just what fandom I was creating for.

Finding your community, creating stuff that aligns with those communities and engaging with others is huge. A lot of my work prior to IDWTBAMG centered queer people (specifically sapphics), Black and Asian folks and stylistically is very anime/modern western cartoon inspired. It's what became known for in fandom spaces and what people were following me for. So when I finally did make IDWTBAMG, a concept with anime influences, in a western cartoon style, with two Black, sapphic leads, it just fit right into what I was already doing. Like if you grew your following from doing cute, slice of life stuff, then suddenly dropped a psychological horror comic, chances are it's not gonna grab a large part of your audience. Might bring some new folks in, but you're ultimately kinda starting over and pivoting (that's why rebrands are hard to pull off). This may not be the best example but hopefully you get what I mean. Appeal to the communities you've fostered!

I hate using corporate speak for art but if you ARE trying sell your ideas to people and get your work out there, you do kinda have to learn how to market yourself and your art to some extent. Get in the head of a marketing agent or a brand manager. What's popular right now? How can I use that to my advantage? What times should I be posting my artwork to get the most eyes on this? Who is my target audience and how do I effectively appeal to them while staying true to my own work? Stuff like that. Genuinely, studying how social media managers operate as well as just observing how businesses market their products helped me a lot. "Okay I'm making this animatic, but it won't come out for the next four months. How do I keep people interested and hyped for that amount of time leading up to the pilot's release? I'll keep doing comics here and there so people connect with the characters by the time the pilot comes out. Once I get he VAs recorded, I'll make posts to get people hyped for the casting. I'll upload snippets and behind the scenes stuff to give people a taste of what's to come. I'll release during Black History Month since this is a Black led project with Black characters. I'll have a specific upload time at peak hours to get a good amount of people watching for the premiere and to give the pilot a good running start." This was all stuff I was taking into consideration and planning for.

Then generally, I think people connect to characters more than anything. You can have a cool concept and fun world building ideas but if your execution is bad and your characters aren't compelling, what's the point, y'know? IDWTBAMG isn't a particularly novel concept imo, but I think its strengths lie in the characters and how they interact. The concept is just a tool to give the character dynamics and relationships legs to stand on. So few of the comics I've done with these guys have to do with their lore, it's just small interactions of the girls in class, at a convenience store or just talking to each other in a void. Even though it's simple, that's often the kind of thing people connect with.

Then there's just the technical aspect of having appealing drawing! Getting better at your craft, if nothing else, is good for catching eyes and helping with your execution of your project. While it's not always necessary, I think it helps a lot. I know there's a lot of people who follow me just because they personally like my art style and character design.

Not sure how helpful this actually is LOL. It really does just kinda take time. We all have to start somewhere. I was a "small artist" too at one point. It was years of trial and error, mental breakdowns, finding my own artistic voice and posting artwork almost daily for like 5 years straight. I do think that's why IDWTBAMG ended up being so special to me. It really does feel like a culmination of everything I've learned and all that hard work up to this point and people can kinda feel that.

[sluts4matt]

okay, i feel like this could be crazy? please take this any direction you want. like reader is at a party (like tara’s party) and her and chris get in a fight over a photo that was posted during the party. this has been on the mind, and im just not the correct person to execute this idea. but please take this any direction and change anything, please and thank you! i love your work please keep posting 🫶🏻

JEALOUS

pairing: rough!dom chris x sub!reader

summary: a picture of you a little to close to another guy at tara's 1 milli party is posted on the internet. chris does NOT like that at all and has to teach you a lesson.

warnings: SMUT, rough sex, spanking, degradation, daddy kink, dirty talk, oral sex (male receiving), unprotected sex, light bondage, blindfolding, choking, orgasm denial, pet names, slight dumbification (because i love it so much ), light fluff at the end

word count: 1652

author's note: i really hope i did your request justice @lovelysturniolos i HAD to feed into everyone saying chris and tara would look cute, i'm sorry, sue me. kind, constructive criticism welcome.

"what the fuck is this?" your boyfriend, chris, asks holding his phone to you. his tone wasn't an amused one which was very unlike him. "what?" you mumble, furrowing your eyebrows as you bring yourself closer to his phone.

the two of you had the house to yourself for the evening, and currently sat on the couch in the living room. you looked at the picture, you were wearing your sparkly black dress, the fabric hugging you just right.

you hand was placed on some guys arm. why? you were absolutely hammered and ended up trying to make chris jealous out of your own jealousy. he had been close to tara almost all night, and while his attention was on you, part of you seemed to think he'd rather pay it to her.

you and chris had ended up losing each other within two hours of being there. but when you found him, and he was talking to tara with tha big ass grin of his. the one he always gives you. you couldn't stand it.your hand immediately found the guy nearest you, batting your eyelashes at him while you giggled at the jokes he told.

all in hopes that chris would look over and see, but he never did.

guess a picture was taken though, so you'd still technically be getting what you want. "who the fuck is that guy? huh?" chris demands. "honestly chris? couldn't tell you," you shrug. "but it was someone who was nice to me while my boyfriend was off with another chick," you mumble the last bit, but chris catches it.

the dry chuckle that leaves his mouth sends shivers down your spine, and the way he was staring at you made your stomach feel tight. "i don't give a fuck about tara," he says.

"really? coulda fooled me," you retort. chris' jaw clenched, and he stood up from the couch, grabbing you by the arm and pulling you off the couch.

"where are we going?" you ask as you try to keep up with his large strides. "i'm gonna fuck some sense into you," he states. "and then, we're going to have a little chat about who the fuck you belong to," he tells you, opening the door to his (your shared) bedroom and shoving you inside.

"chris-" "strip," he says, cutting you off. his voice was stern, and left no room for arguments. he walked over to the closet, grabbing the silk ties and blindfolds that sat in a box on the top shelf. you stripped your clothes, watching chris as he got into the box.

"hands behind your back," he commands, walking over to you. "chris-" "shut the fuck up," he snaps. "unless you're gonna say the safeword, please, shut the fuck up," he repeats. you nod your head.

he places the tie over your eyes, and brings your hands behind your back, tying them together. "get on the bed," he tells you, smacking your ass as you walk towards the bed.

you climb onto the bed, sitting in the middle of the mattress. "chris, i-" you're cut off by chris' hand covering your mouth. "if you're gonna be using that mouth, it's gonna be for something useful ma," he tells you. "so, either stop talking, or put that fucking mouth to work," he says.

you nod your head, and chris removes his hand from your mouth. "yes daddy," you mumble. "what was that baby?" he asks, knowing he heard you. "yes daddy," you speak up, earning a satisfied hum from chris.

"that's more like it," he says, taking his shirt off, and kicking his sweats and boxers off. he grabs a pillow from the head of the bed, and puts it under your knees.

"open your mouth," he tells you. and you obey, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out. chris grabs the base of his cock and guides it into your mouth.

you swirl your tongue around the tip, kitty licking it. chris grabs the back of your head, and pushes himself into your mouth until he hits the back of your throat. "fuck, your mouth feels so fucking good ma," he says, moving his hips and thrusting into your mouth.

he pulls himself out, and smacks your face with his cock a few times. he rubs his tip along your lips, smearing pre-cum all over them. "such a pretty fucking face," he muses, shoving his cock back into your mouth.

he groans as you take him back in, hollowing your cheeks as you suck him off. "fucking choke on it baby," he groans, pushing your head further down until his cock hit the back of your throat, over and over again.

you gag on his dick, tears beginning to leak from your eyes, dampening the fabric of the blindfold. saliva dripped down the corners of your mouth.

"fuck, i'm close," he moans. you move your head faster, bobbing your head, gagging and choking on his cock. "shit baby, that's it. gonna cum down that pretty fucking throat," he moans.

he pushes your head down again, and holds you there, letting his cum paint the inside of your throat. "fuck, fuck," he breathes, his chest heaving. he wraps your head in a makeshift ponytail around his hand tugging your head back.

he admires the way the black blindfold contrasts against your tan skin, "so pretty baby, too bad you thought you had to make me jealous to get my fucking attention." he says.

he takes his cock from your mouth and wipes the remaining saliva and cum off on your cheek. "now, i'm gonna fuck some sense into you, and after that, we're gonna talk about why it is you're my fucking girl," he says, pulling you up and positioning you how he wants.

his favorite position had your ass up in the air and your cheek pressed against the mattress. he rubbed your right ass cheek before raising his hand and landing a hard smack down on it. the sound echoed in the room, and the stinging sensation had you moaning because of the pain and pleasure.

"this ass, mine," he says, landing a few more harsh slaps down. "this pussy, mine," he continues, sliding his cock between your folds and pressing the tip at your entrance. "mhm, fuck," you gasp, as chris pushes himself into your cunt.

his right hand finds its way in-between your shoulder blades, shoving you down further as his left hand has a steady grip on your hip. his hips smack against your ass, the sound echoing throughout the room, accompanied by his groans and grunts and your loud moans. "i wanna hear how good my cock is," chris tells you.

"fuck daddy, so big. feels so fucking good," you moan, gripping the silk fabric tied around your wrists. "so fucking tight, ma," he says, his right hand sliding down to grab the fabric tied around your wrists.

he tugs your body back, forcing himself deeper into your cunt, causing your breath to catch in your throat. his hips move a million miles an hour, chasing his release, choked whines left your mouth that had you gasping for air, drool running down your chin.

"so fucking pathetic, look at ya," he chuckles, watching as you come undone underneath him. "such a whiny bitch, can't even speak." he tugs on the tie again, pulling you up. his left hand slides up to wrap around your neck, squeezing lightly.

"gonna cum daddy," you babble, your high approaching. "no you're not," chris says, denying you of your orgasm. he pushes you back down, pounding into you with no mercy, "chris," you whine. "wanna act like a slut to get my attention, gonna get treated and used like one."

"fuck daddy," you whine, the knot in the pit of your stomach becoming tighter. "chris, please, need to cum," you beg. he moves his left hand up to grip the hair at the base of your skull, "don't you fucking dare," he threatens.

"gotta earn it baby," he tells you. "how do you earn daddy's permission?" he asks.

"please," you moan, unable to think of anything else to say. "not what i'm looking for," he says, bringing his hand down on your ass, leaving a red handprint on your skin. "fuck," you hiss. "daddy," you cry. "please, please, fuck," you beg.

"that's more like it," he grunts. he leans over your body, his left hand reaching up to hold the headboard while his right stays in the same place.

"go on then, cum on my cock," he whispers, biting down on your earlobe, tugging on it. his words send you over the edge, and you come undone underneath him. your pussy spasms around his cock, squeezing and clenching, milking his orgasm from him.

he fills your cunt up, coating your walls white. his thrusts become slower, and the grip he has on your body is softer, until he stops altogether, and pulls out of you.

"good girl," he praises, running his thumb along your entrance, catching the mixture of both of your orgasms and bringing it to his mouth. he sucks the digit clean, humming at the taste.

he lays down next to you, pulling you into him, "now, who do i belong too?" he asks, holding you close. "me," you answer. "mm, and who do you belong too?" he asks, kissing your head. "you," you reply, leaning up to kiss him.

"good girl," he hums, placing a kiss on your nose. "want me to doordash panda express princess?" he asks, nuzzling his face into the conjunction of your jaw and neck. he peppered small kisses making you giggle. "nap first," you tell him.

he nods his head, grabbing the blanket and draping it over the both of you. he presses a final kiss to your temple, whispering, "i love you baby," before the two of you drift off.

tag list:

@sturnioloa @junnniiieee07

[rheas-ripley]

thinking abt doing that “my current bf” trend on jey (the blurbiest of blurbs! req more tiktok trends for me to write plspls)

you were sitting at your vanity getting ready for the day when you decided to record a ‘outfit of the day’ for your growing number of tiktok followers. your manager (best friend) advised that you start to make more engaging and unexpected content, such as pranks. that was when you came up with the idea to prank your boyfriend, jey. you had seen this trend all over tiktok where girlfriends introduce their boyfriends as their “current boyfriend” and you really wanted to try it on jey. him being a hothead would definitely give you a kick out of all this since you just knew he’d react.

as jey innocently lay on y’all’s shared bed, you knew that now was the perfect time to execute the prank. “baby, can you make this tiktok with me real quick?” you turned your head back to look at him, your freshly glossed lips shining brightly in the bedroom lighting.

“whatever you want, mama,��� he got up instantly and walked over to the vanity. his eagerness almost, almost made you feel bad for what you were about to do. jey stood behind your vanity bench as you explained the tiktok to him, listening intently at your words.

once you both got situated and ready to film, you propped your phone up on some bottles of moisturizer and pressed record. “hey y’all!” you exclaimed with a small wave, “this is me and my current boyfriend’s outfit of the day!” you said smoothly, making sure that ‘current boyfriend’ didn’t sound rehearsed because it was.

you snuck a small glance at jey’s face in your phone and couldn’t help but giggled at what you saw. his whole face was scrunched up in disgust but he had yet to say anything. his eyebrows were knit close together, he was clearly confused which made your giggling intensify. pushing through your laughing fit, you spoke again. “my shirt is from-“

“so you not gon address what you just said?” he asked calmly even though he cut you off, confusion laced in his tone. you could tell that he wasn’t playing any games with you but you still wanted to test more of the waters. what can you say? being a brat is fun!

“um are you not my current boyfriend?” you asked, feigning innocence. you knew exactly why he had a problem with it but playing dumb was just so fun. you turned your body to face him, now looking into his eyes instead of the camera. he always looks so sexy when he’s mad, damn.

jey crossed his arms over his chest, clearly tired of the games. “you better cut all that ‘current boyfriend’ shit out right now, mama,” he said firmly, letting out a small chuckle at your audacity. “you’re not gonna have anymore boyfriends. i’m putting a ring your sexy ass, you know that,” he punctuated his sentence by giving your ass a small tap. as he licked his lips, he allowed his eyes to rake down your body, taking in your cute sundress that you put on for y’all’s picnic later.

“boy stop checking me out!” you giggled and smacked his chest playfully. “can’t nobody even prank your ass without you tryna get freaky! i don’t even know if i can post this, i might get banned,” you rolled your eyes as you spoke.

“nah post this shit,” jey fired back quickly, smirking as he walked back to his previous place on the bed. “let everyone know who be in them guts!” he humored.

“jey stop being freaky!” you whined, running to stop the video. with some very rushed editing, you posted the video anyway. it blew up and the comments were filled with things like ‘i just know he talks her through it’ or ‘need me a man like jey’. the fans couldn’t get enough of yall!

[lovelynim]

Fight the champion

Zenless Zone Zero - Lighter x Wise

A/N: If anything, you guys should thank @/ticklystuff for being the brain behind this fic even tho he doesn't play the game. Thanks for the idea, friend, tho I'm not sure if it was properly executed ehe

Also, I apologize in advance for how OOC Lighter may sound here, I'm still getting a grip at his character

Summary: After winning a "fight" against Wise, Lighter tries to make up for his doings

Word count: 2356 words

[Read it on Ao3]

“L-LIHIGHTEHER– AHAHAHAH, STOHOHOP IT!!”

Wise couldn’t remember the last time he laughed like this. In fact, he couldn’t even remember the last time he was this loud. All he could feel was his head spinning, his heart beating and Lighter’s hands wreaking havoc on his skin. It tickled - it tickled as if each and every single one of his nerves were on fire, sparkling like fireworks under his skin. 

Wise felt his cheeks, his stomach and even his ribs - to which Lighter’s fingers seemed to be particularly fond of  - hurting from the laughter. How long has it been? Five, ten minutes? He couldn’t tell.

A tickle fight. All of this mess started with the stupid idea of starting a tickle fight against the Sons of Calydon’s champion. Wise knew he was going to lose - that was the whole point of it!

Playfully wrestling Lighter, being overpowered, tickled a little, surrendering and done. He would have Lighter on top of him, heartstruck and ready for him to act cute and pull all sorts of impure acts later… it seemed like the perfect plan, so how could it all end so wrong?

Wise pressed his head back, laughing his soul to heaven and back when Lighter’s hand moved down to his hips again. “LIGHTER, PLEHEHEASE!! I’M DYIHIHING HERE!!”

“That’s no way for a fighter to speak, manager, you shouldn’t yield just after a couple hits,” Lighter chuckled, his grip around Wise’s wrists tightening while the tickled moved back up to the proxy’s sides.

Wise’s feet had already kicked all the cushions off the couch in their aimless flailing and his throat was as dry as the soil near Blazewood. Wise lost count of how many times he asked ‘please’, tried to yield or to call uncle, but it was clear that none of those mattered for Lighter. He was a champion defending his title, after all, how could Wise expect any mercy from him?

Calling it “hysteria” wouldn’t make justice to the noises Lighter was drawing out of the proxy when his gloved hand decided to sneak under Wise’s shirt and tickle his bare skin. 

Lighter raised his eyebrows at the reaction, catching a few glimpses of that forced, desperate smile on Wise’s face while he prodded between each bone of Wise’s ribcage. “It sure looks like it tickles, huh? Should’ve thought twice before picking up this fight, manager ~” He teased again, trying to get some comprehensible speech out of the other, but Wise seemed just too busy to think of anything else.

Saying he wasn’t fond of Wise’s laughter, smile and blushing cheeks would be a blatant lie. A ugly, nasty lie. And could one really blame Lighter for taking the chance when Wise started to poke his sides and stomach in the middle of their movie? If that wasn’t an invitation to ‘fight’ back, then what else would it be?

“P-PLEHEHEASE!!” Wise laughed, arching his back off the couch when Lighter shoved his hand all the way up to tickle the proxy’s armpit. “J-JUST STOHOHOP!!”

“But you’re no-” Lighter stopped, snapping back from his daydreaming and spotting the last thing he wanted to see on Wise’s face: tears. “D-damn it,” he gasped, quickly letting go of Wise’s wrists, “are you ok, manager?”

This was bad, really, really bad. He got carried away, forgetting this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Now that he thought about it, what if Wise wasn’t actually smiling just now? All that laughter was a forced reaction? One that Lighter carelessly exploited for his own amusement… My, what has he done?!

“...w-whahat?” Wise asked, taking some deep, needed breaths and letting the air back into his lungs for the first time in a while. He still had that dazzled, drunk-like look on his face, barely aware of his surroundings.

“Manager, does-” Lighter hesitated, freezing the hand that was about to reach for Wise midair. Damn it, damn it, damn it! “D-does it hurt? I didn’t- I didn’t mean to…” Of course, but what was a brute like him expecting, he thought.

This should’ve been a cute, romantic moment between couples - just like in the movie they were watching - but he ruined it and now Wise was crying!

“H-hurt?” Wise asked, slowly sitting back up and wiping the small tears of mirth off his lashes. “No, it just- just tickled. A lot, in fact, hahah,” Wise giggled, running a hand through his hair, unaware of the concern concealed behind Lighter’s glasses.

“Do sugarcoat it, manager,” Lighter furrowed his brows, taking one of Wise’s hands into his. His skin was probably sore after all the abuse from his rough hands - or, even worse, what if he broke one of Wise’s ribs while tickling him? What if all those squeezes and prods left bruises?” “I-I can help you- no, better, I can call for hel-”

“L-Lighter,” Wise giggled, stopping the other from getting up from the couch. He still found this whole situation way too amusing, even kind of cute - despite not really understanding it. “What are you talking about? I’m fine,” Wise scoffed, cocking his head to the side. 

“Your body,” Lighter’s lips quivered slightly. He settled his hands down on the couch, lowering his gaze, “did I hurt you?”

“...huh?”

“You can be honest,” Lighter sighed, his fingers clenching into a fist. “When- when we were playing now and, well, I was tickling you, was I too rough? Did it hurt?”

“What? No! Lighter, I’m fine,” Wise chuckled, reaching to cup Lighter’s cheek. He removed the other’s glasses, meeting his gaze full of worry and guilt. While this seemed like the silliest of concerns for Wise, he could tell Lighter was serious about it. Dead serious.

The man sighed, his shoulders slouching as he finally relaxed a little. “...right,” Lighter reached for one of Wise’s hands, gently holding his wrist before nuzzling into his palm. “I just got carried away and thought I… I overdid it when I saw you crying.”

Wise blushed a little, taken aback by the explanation. How should he take it? Did he look so frail that Lighter thought he could hurt him with tickling? Or was it that Lighter cared so much that even tears of laughter made him worry?

“Don’t be stupid,” Wise hissed shyly, weakly pulling at his hand only to find it stuck in Lighter’s grip - again.

“Are you mad at me?” Lighter asked and, for a moment, Wise could see dripping doggy ears on top of his head. “Let me at least make it up for you, manager!”

“L-Lighter!” Wise gasped, even more flustered at the whole scene. “I-it was just tickling, a play fight. T-there’s nothing for you to make up to… I was the one who started it anyway and-”

“Then,” Lighter interrupted, leaning a little forward and bringing Wise’s hand close to his chest, “tickle me back. We would be even then, right? I promise I won’t fight you off this time!”

Wise went silent, blinking a few times while processing Lighter’s words. He, in fact, was the one who started the said fight by tickling Lighter first, but he never really planned to win it. In fact, he knew from the start it would be a losing battle - he just didn’t expect it to be that bad of a defeat.

“T-tickle you?”

“Yes, isn’t it what you wanted? Like in the movie we were watching,” Lighter nodded, with at least a part of his usual attitude seemingly recovered. “Please, manager? You are not going to leave me hanging, right?” Lighter stared at Wise with pleading eyes, bringing his hand up to his lips and planting a kiss on his knuckles. “It’s the least I can do, no?”

Wise cringed slightly, unable to take his hand away from Lighter this time. It was a cute attitude, yes, but so uncalled for… Still, how could say no when Lighter had that look on his face? “...A-alright, I’ll do it, then.”

Nearly sparkling at the mere sound of those words, Lighter reached for Wise’s with his free hand and pulled the other back down with him. The proxy couldn’t help but let out a small gasp, his hands resting on top of Lighter’s chest as he tried to support himself.

“Don’t hold back, manager. I’m a toughie, I can take it,” Lighter nodded, watching Wise steady himself on top of his lap. He crossed both arms behind his head, rolling his shirt up and bit and exposing some of his lower stomach in the process.

It was hard for Wise to not get distracted from the main task at hand. With one hand on each side of Lighter’s chest, the proxy couldn’t help but give the muscles a gentle squeeze - feeling them with just a skin tight shirt on the way felt much better than with a heavy biker jacket.

“Oi, manager,” Lighter chuckled, “that doesn’t tickle, you know?” He joked, not that he would really mind having Wise fondling with his chest, but he wouldn’t lose the chance to tease him for that either.

“Right, tickling,” Wise muttered out loud, stopping his fingers from committing any other inappropriate act. “Where are you ticklish, Lighter?”

Of all the things that just happened, this was what seemed to puzzle Lighter the most. “Dunno,” the man sighed, looking up to the ceiling as he tried to recall the last time he felt someone touching him so lightly. “On… my neck?”

Wise frowned, unsatisfied. “Just that won’t do,” he scoffed, tracing a finger down Lighter’s torso, feeling each and every one of his muscles. His eyes shifted back and forth between the other’s body and face, carefully watching him in an attempt to capture any reaction. “Do you feel anything if I do this?”

“Not sure,” Lighter said while closing his eyes, his position barely shifting if it wasn’t for his chest waving with each breath, “try a little harder, manager.”

Those words made Wise flinch, almost as if waking something inside him. Lighter still had his eyes closed, his body open to Wise, almost as if he was just about to drift to sleep. Did he trust him that much?

Still, he was already way too into it to turn down such an opportunity. “Alright,” he said, bringing his other hand into action and getting a hold onto Lighter’s waist. Wise pinched the spot, pressing his thumbs down on the soft meat and rubbing circles into the-

“Ah!”

Wise’s head shot up, looking up from Lighter’s lower stomach to his face with widened eyes. Funny enough, Lighter seemed just as surprised, almost startled by the sudden sensation. Wise smirked.

“What about now?” He said, repeating the motion and even skittering his other fingers around Lighter’s lower sides. Wise felt that massive body shift under him and his heart skip a bit at the sound he heard next.

“I-it tihihickles,” Lighter giggled, furrowing his brows and scrunching up his nose while a restrained smile took place over his lips. Lighter pressed his chin down at his chest, his elbows faltering as his instincts yelled at him to lower his arms and stop whatever was causing this.

But he listened neither to his instincts, nor to his better judgement. “It dehehefinitely does!”

“Good,” Wise nodded, moving his hands towards each other and tickling Lighter’s stomach, watching it tremble as more and more giggles spilled from his lips. “You’re quite sensitive, Lighter.”

Yes, he was. Lighter pressed his knees together, crossed one ankle over the other behind Wise’s back and even clenched his hand around his hair. One of these things had to make that growing urge to laugh more bearable, he thought. “I knohohow!”

Wise chuckled, continuing to tickle around those toned abs while deciding where he should try next. “And not only on your neck,” he teased, poking Lighter’s ribs on each side and making the man jolt with surprise before dissolving into that soft, but held-back laughter again.

“D-do yohohou lihihike it, manahahager?” He didn’t know why he insisted on speaking - maybe it was just another attempt to distract himself. Yet, for some reason, he didn’t exactly hate that feeling - maybe because Wise was the one providing it.

“Why does it matter? You won’t become less ticklish if I say I don’t, right?”

“I cohohould try!”

The proxy rolled his eyes, drilling his fingers in the spaces between each bone of Lighter’s ribcage. Exploring a Hollow seemed easier than making this man crack up. At that point, Wise would be breathless, with his heart pumping blood at the same rate as the motor in Lighter’s motorcycle.

“It’s not fair, you’re holding back,” Wise whined, pushing one of Lighter’s elbows back to claw at the exposed armpit with the other, tickling it as best as he could, “there’s no way you are just this ticklish.”

“B-buhuhut- ahAhaha, it stihill tihihickles, mahahanager!” Lighter laughed, turning his face away to avoid Wise’s gaze upon him. He felt hot around the collar and airheaded, making it even harder to think about the right words to say. Was there anything for him to say, though? Should he even say anything?

While these thoughts spiraled inside his head, the tickling slowed down, eventually coming to a total halt. Missing that swirling sensation that came from it inside his stomach, Lighter slowly opened his eyes, turning his head back to face the proxy.

“S-satisfied already, manager?”

Wise smiled, shaking his head. “It’s no use - I can’t beat the champion, even in a tickle fight,” he said with a giggle, leaning forward until he could nuzzle his nose against Lighter’s, brushing his lips over the other man’s before giving them a small peck.

“So,” Lighter sighed, finally lowering his arms and wrapping one of them around Wise’s neck. “Does this mean you forgive me? For making you cry and all?”

“Not yet,” Wise muttered, making Lighter widen his eyes. “We have to finish this movie first”, he winked and Lighter nodded, letting out a small, shaky sigh of relief. He laid his head back, turning his attention to the TV while feeling Wise rest on top of his chest.

“Of course, manager.”

[vminizzle]

Wanna get married

pairing : bestfriend!jungkook x f.reader

genre : FLUFF

warnings : mention of drinking alcohol, reader is tipsy, jungkook is bestfriend goal, they cute, that's all :)

word count : 1.7k

A/N : Hi my lovely people, I hope you've been doing good. Like I told you, I wrote a little drabble for you guys since I'm making you guys wait for sweet lips 3,, It's just a little something just to thank you guys for your patience and reading my stuff. REMINDER : poor English,, I wanna apologise in advance like you guys already know English is not my first language so please don't mind the mistake. Love you guys - sunny

FEEDBACKS ARE VERY WELCOMED 🍂

“wanna get married?” you asked between giggles.

“you confident?” he raised an eyebrow amused at the sudden burst.

“I’m asking if you can handle.” he smiled teasingly as you let your body rest on his.

“Of course I can.” you replied as you looked up at him, your hand going up to his hair to play with the long black locks.

Jungkook bit on his bottom lip, staring down at you. You looked so beautiful, the moonlight showing off your pretty features, he could only smiled.

“I want to kiss you.” you whispered eyes sparkling as you stared at his lips with lust.

“angel, you know we can’t do that.” Jungkook laughed slightly, holding you by your waist.

“I love you Jungkook.” you blurted out after a few seconds, arms wrapping around his neck.

His heart skipped a beat at the words, throat getting dry. He knew you weren’t thinking right so he avoid the conversation.

“y/n, you’re drunk.” he flicked your forehead making you whine in pain.

“noo I’m not!” you punched him lightly on his chest making him laugh.

“C’mon let’s go home.” he held you tightly, helping you walk as you kept on struggling to stand straight.

“my feet hurt.” you whined tiredly letting your body dropped on the ground.

Jungkook watched as you took your shoes off throwing them at the other side of the road.

“hey hey no don’t do that.” he closed his eyes exasperate.

Your best friend crouched down sighing at your current state.

“I shouldn’t had let you drink.” he shook his head before grabbing your hand helping you up.

He went to grab your shoes handing them back to you. 

“C’mon, we’re not so far from home.” he encouraged you making you shake your head.

“I’m tired. I can’t walk anymore.” you huffed.

“You can go home, let me there.” you pointed to the sidewalk.

Jungkook watched in disbelief as you sat on the ground again.

“are you serious right now?” he tilted his head to the side.

“good night.” you yawned as you were about to lay down making Jungkook rushed to you to stop you from executing your stupid idea. 

Your best friend sighed heavily before pulling you up again.

“C’mon.” he turned around, bending his knees slightly.

“piggyback?” you said excited, jumping on his back making Jungkook groaned.

“Let’s go!” you exclaimed loudly, voice resonating in the dark empty streets, as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Be quiet y/n.” he warned shushing you.

“yessir.” you whispered giggling making Jungkook smiled softly.

You nuzzled your head into his neck, your warm breath caressing his skin gently.

After walking for a few minutes, you were in front of your best friend’s house.

Jungkook was hesitant about you sleeping at his house tonight. Not that he didn’t like you staying over. Not at all. He loved when you’re spending time together. You’re used to do movie nights, sleepovers at each others, but tonight was different.

You were not really sober. 

And he wasn’t sure of how you were about to act.

When being drunk, you often try to kiss him, confess your love to him; you’re just really clingy.

Unlocking the front door, he gestured you to enter first before locking it after him.

Turning around you envelope his body into a big hug surprising him as you look up at him.

“you’re handsome tonight.” you said shyly making him smile with a breathy laugh escaping his mouth.

“thanks. You’re not bad yourself.” he flicked your forehead making you pout.

“go upstairs, I’ll come in a few minutes.” he pushed you gently to the stairs.

“you can change into confortable clothes. You know where it is.” he said before walking away.

A few minutes late, Jungkook was standing in front of his bedroom’s door knocking softly on it, waiting for you to allow him to enter the room.

“y/n?” he knocked again when he heard nothing. It was silent.

“Can I come in?”

Jungkook threw his head back tiredly before huffing getting a bit sleepy. He just wanted to sleep.

“Can I come in? Are you finished?” he asked again a bit louder.

Did you fall asleep?

Are you in the bathroom?

Did you faint??

Entering the room almost panicked, Jungkook‘s eyes widen slightly in relief.

Here you were standing in the middle of the room wearing one of his Calvin Klein oversized shirt.

“Koo!” you ran to him with a wide smile on your face, hands coming to his broad shoulders for another hug, the oversized shirt ridding up your thighs when doing so.

“hey.” he gulped feeling your body pressed oh his tightly.

“didn’t find a sweatpants?” he asked walking to his wardrobe when you shake your head.

Handing you the comfy clothes, he informed you that he was gonna freshen up a bit.

You snuggled into his bed under the warm sheet waiting for him.

After a few minutes, Jungkook exited the bathroom finding you in his bed.

Don’t get him wrong, you often slept with him in his bed during sleepover but when you’re drunk he rather not. For his own good.

He didn’t want to make a mistake so he approached the bed, laying a soft kiss on your forehead before grabbing his pillow making you frowned.

“where you going?” you tilted your head to the side confused.

“I’m gonna sleep on the couch… I wanted to.. hmm I wanted to watch a movie before sleeping.” he lied not wanting to make you sad.

“aren’t you tired? Your eyes are puffy and you keep on yawning.” you pointed out yawning yourself.

“Not.. not really.” he looked down avoiding your eyes. 

He didn’t like lying to you, he started feeling guilty.

“Please sleep with me.” you said a small pout drawing its way on your lips making him sighed as you sat up.

“Princess, I can’t-“

“You don’t love me.” you started, tears bubbling in your eyes.

“hey no no! No don’t say that. That’s not true.” he rushed to the bed shaking his head.

“I love you.”

“Really?” you sniffed making him sit on the bed nodding.

“I do. I really love you.” he said reassuring you. He meant it. His heart beating way too fast for his liking. He knew he loved you, more than what you were… best friends.

“sleep with me.” you pleaded at him with doe eyes making him bite on his bottom lip, hesitating on what to do.

He finally sighed, putting his pillow on its usual place making you squeal happily.

Laying down on his back next to you, you joined him, laying down again, staring at him as you approached him.

“what?”

“you’re cute.” you breathed out.

“thanks.” he replied.

“you’re cute. I wanna kiss you.” you whispered, face getting closer to his.

Before he could say anything, you connected your lips together softly making him widen his eyes in shock.

He didn’t know why he kissed your back, the feeling of your soft lips on his making him hummed into the kiss.

No. No, he couldn’t do that.

Wake up, Jungkook! he scolded himself.

He pushed you slightly away, breathing heavily as he shake his head watching you frown, feeling disappointed at the short kiss.

“I.. I can’t do that. I’m sorry. You’re not sober y/n. That’s not right of me doing that. I don’t want to.. y’know. You’re not thinking straight. I won’t take advantage of this situation.” he explained slowly.

You just nodded, not understanding everything he just said before scooting closed to him again making him furrow his eyebrows.

���Can we at least cuddle?”

He hesitated staring at you.

“I won’t kiss you.” you pouted making him smile.

“Alright then. I trust you?” he checked again.

“I promise!” you put your hand up in the air, with a huge smile.

“good. come here.” he opened his arms as you snuggled into his warm embrace.

“Can I tell you a secret?” you murmured against his chest catching his attention as he hummed.

“But don’t tell yourself.” you added.

“What?” he laughed at your nonsense. 

“so you’re telling me a secret but I can’t say it to me?” he couldn’t help but smile.

“yup!” 

“I’m listening.” he replied curiously.

“I’m in love with Jungkook since I’m 10.” you smiled, hand playing with his fingers.

Jungkook was speechless as he didn’t know what to say or what to do. You really did surprised him right now. 

“Do you think he feels the same?” you finally looked up at him, a bit of shyness and curiosity filling your eyes.

“Can I tell you a secret?” he just said, not replying to your question.

“yes.”

“I’m in love with you.” Jungkook said with a cute smile.

“but.. I love Jungkook.” you sat up looking down at him feeling confused.

“I don’t want to break your heart, but I love him already.” you started hands on your lap.

Jungkook wanted to burst out laughing but you were so cute.

“well, that’s ok then.” he shrugged.

“But do you want an advice?” he sat up too making you nod.

“You should tell him you love him.” he bit on his pierced lip trying to stop himself from smiling.

“Really? But I’m scared if he feels uncomfortable if he doesn’t love me the same. I don’t want to lose him.” you explained sadly.

“you won’t lose him, don’t say that. Just tell him, he’s your best friend right?” he raised an eyebrow.

“yes he is!”

“So, tell me- I mean tell him you’re in love with him when you’re sober tomorrow.”

“Sober? Am I drunk? No! I’m sober!” you slapped his arm earning another laugh from him.

“yea yea whatever. Come sleep now.” he pulled you down with him, putting the blanket over your bodies.

“good night angel.” he caressed your back gently making you hummed.

“good night.” you laid a quick peck on his cheek before resting your head on his chest.

Jungkook couldn’t help but smile. His heart melting when thinking about the whole conversation. He felt the unfamiliar butterflies in the pit of his stomach, it felt unreal for him. 

He slept good that night, feeling excited to wake up the next morning. 

[yanderefarm]

yandere mad king introduction

same kinda vibe as before!! just letting you know more about him before I make part two!! i also have another request in my inbox for him. and yes he does have a boob window. and no I can't draw boobs

cw; violence, violence towards animals, nsft, yandere tendencies, manipulation, rough sex

Emil is called the mad king because he claimed the throne by killing his father and all his supporters. It wasn't out of malice but duty to his people but he doesn't mind people thinking poorly of him if it means they don't bother him.

He decided to marry your sister because of growing concern for the movements of your neighboring kingdom. He didn't actually care about her until she started to reject him so firmly.

He just likes things that are interesting. It was interesting that she was willing to let everyone die rather than be with him but its more interesting that you're willing to kill to keep them all safe.

He's bisexual, doesn't actually care if it's a man or woman he marries as long as they don't bore him. Of course the noblemen of his empire have more to say about this topic.

He'll probably kill them if they start acting homophobic towards you. His love for you is one thing but he also doesn't want anyone who's going to insult his decisions.

Once you get more comfortable with him he'll try to avoid you seeing any bloodshed or pain. Even if he had to execute his whole court he'd never let you witness it.

He's willing to be kind if you ask him cutely. He'd feel such a rush if you clung to him and begged for someone's life. That doesn't necessarily grant them mercy but it might give them a little more time.

If you're bigger than him and you act cute and pathetic its even more exciting. He loves the feeling of your larger body holding him and acting like he's your shield from anything you don't like.

If you're smaller than him it's cute too. He likes you sitting in his lap, head hidden in his chest too afraid to look.

If you're not scared, if you get a taste for the bloodshed that's interesting too. He'd love to guide your hands on his sword doing his dirty work.

If you show your stubborn side like your sister's he finds it fun. He likes to push you as far as he can. What can he do to get you to snap again? How far is too far?

Don't be stubborn until you're sure your family is safe though. Really don't want him to get his guillotine out again.

Speaking of!! Your family is/was made of 8 people. Your father is Elio and your mother is Estelle. Your eldest brother is Philip who is about 5 years older than you, then your sister Eliza who is only about 2 years older than you, then you, then after you is Isabella who is 15, your youngest brother is Anthony and he's 12, and finally the youngest child is Maria at 6.

If you're not like all into the fantasy of an entire royal family who isn't your actual real world family feel free to imagine it in an isekai way. I almost wrote it that way but decided it was a little too much. (Also if you don't mention where I got some of the names you get a cookie.)

Back to Emil. He will threaten your family up to and including the day of your wedding. He doesn't want you to back out last minute so until he slides that ring on your finger the knife is at their throats.

After your marriage is official he'll follow you around the castle sometimes. He'll watch you in the garden or stalk you through the halls. He ignores his work just to watch you read in the library.

He'll also adorn you with gifts if you want. You do have to give him the idea first. Either just asking him for something you like or slipping the hint to one of his close assistants.

It's not hard to guess he didn't have the happiest childhood so he doesn't really understand the idea of gifts or romance. He's just as likely to gift you a dead rat as he is a gold necklace if simply given the instructions to give something.

So yeah he's also not romantic. He's sweet don't get it twisted, he'd be kind and loving to you. He would adore you. But he's never been on a date and doesn't know how romance works.

You might never know how he attempted to court your sister but it might have been the reason for her stubbornness.

Still once he gets the hang of it he'll show his truest yandere tendency. Being a massive simp. Gifts, dates, touching, anything you tell him you like you'll get ten fold.

Honestly even if you didn't personally teach him what to do he'd probably just do disturbing versions of romance towards you. Dead rat gifts, poisoning your maids, chocolates full of razorblades, giving you your dead sister's head, messed up things.

He doesn't like being in pain but once he's in deep all you have to do is tell him to suffer and he would. You'd probably have to wait a few years into your marriage for that though. Butter him up first before you ask him to eat glass.

nsfw time!!

Just like romance he is a bit clueless about sex. If god (aka me) ever let him top he would cum first and then roll over and go to bed leaving you unsatisfied.

On your wedding night the maids will dress you both up in intimate garments and leave you to it. You don't have to sleep together then but if you decide to because he looks so pretty he'll let you use him however you want.

He'll be overly accommodating the first time you do it regardless of when. He needs to know what exactly you're doing before he starts to get more freaky with it.

The first time is so mind blowing for him. He didn't realize he could feel that good, he gets hearts in his eyes as he begs for more.

His favorite position is cowgirl or a mating press. He loves riding you and he's a total power bottom but his breeding kink trumps all.

His breeding kink is intense. It doesn't matter if you bring up breeding him first or not because his body knows it needs to be bred. He knows sex is for procreation and that's all he wants.

He begs for your babies, he begs to be a daddy. He doesn't like for you to waste a single drop of cum outside of his body. How could you waste it when he wants you to get him pregnant so badly?

If you jerk off alone, cum early during foreplay, or just try not to cum inside of him it doesn't matter. He'll scoop up any cum and either push it inside of him or suck it off his fingers.

He'll sneak into your room and steal your dirty underwear or dirty tissues to smell and lick clean. He knows it's a bit gross but he loves your smell and taste.

He could be ftm or cis it doesn't really matter because his behavior is the same.

He'd be down to get kinky too. Like previously stated he doesn't like pain but he would absolutely love it if you tried to hurt him during sex.

You can spit on him, choke him, slap him, scratch him, anything you want. He might pretend he'll fight back but he won't.

If you try to hurt him without proper warning he'd probably actually fight back at least a little bit. At a certain point he'd just trust you not to hurt him but it takes a while.

His absolute favorite is your dick buried balls deep inside of him and your hands tight around your neck. If you mating pressed him while you choked him he'd be putty in your hands. Tell him he can breathe when you cum and he'll cum so hard.

He doesn't hate soft vanilla sex either. Sometimes its really nice to be treated gently and adored. Run your hands over his scars and tell him he's pretty.

Call him your pretty princess and rub his stomach. Say he'd be a good daddy or mommy it doesn't matter which.

He'd probably cry if you did nothing but adore him. Overstimulate him for hours telling him how good he is and how he's so pretty and he'll sob.

Hell he'd probably start apologizing and begging for you to hate him for being such a horrible person. He's never known so much love as when he's with you.

After you're done either adoring him or breaking him he'd force you to cuddle him. Keep yourself buried inside him and hold him gently. You can play with his hair or kiss his bruises just as long as you stay with him.

[yayll]

The jealous Dazqi post was so cute and funny and the callbacks to his past self were fun and now i can’t stop thinking about cringefail teen Dazai with the biggest, fattest crush ever and not knowing how to deal with it

YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH THIS MADE ME LAUGH ANON I ADORE YOU FOR THE VISUAL.

cringefail teen Dazai so obsessed to the point where he is literally pointing a gun at the other recruit who's at least 10 years older than him because he complimented you on how your so mature for your age when it comes to leadership skills. (it's both an insult that he would perceive you in that way and also.... why the fuck is he talking to you at all?) he has to use his authority to further his cruelty.

Dazai does the most unhinged things behind your back, especially. it gets soooo dire that sometimes he has to recruit CHUUYA for intimidation purposes. Dazai thinks of himself as intimidating enough but thinks having the 5'3 gravity user pointing thousands of bullets at any person who made you laugh or smile or cry will add that pizzazz he's looking for. Chuuya smacks him upside the head after and remarks that you'd never go for him anyway.

one time, he begged Mori to let him 'supervise' your mission as executive, and it really just ended up with you doing your job and him standing by any large body of water contemplating if he should kill himself because he doesn't like what he's feeling for you. and if perhaps you don't feel the same? even more reason to wipe himself off this earth. but then you smile at him... and sometimes even give him a high five for a job well done..... and let's just say that was the first time he discovered alcohol. and alcohol poisoning soon after.

one time he saw you writing in your diary, and that very night is driven to insanity in your quarters searching for it, looking for any mention of him in it like a little rabid gremlin. you catch him in the act too, and he simply flings it onto your bed and crosses his arms in complete denial that he's hopelessly smitten with you.

"Dazai? what're you doing here? is that my diary?!"

"HUH? i'm not reading it, i'm literally not!"

"then what are you doing with it, huh?

and he just flashes you those hopeless loser ass puppy eyes when he realizes the jig is up.

"... do you like me or what?"

and you're just like.....

"of course i do, idiot."

like damn took him long enough. you kiss him on the cheek and he's like.... oh wow could it be i'm not delusional? but he can't even HANDLE YOUR DIRECT CONFESSION so he just self destructs and snorts like the immature little shit he is rolling his eyes and whatnot as he storms out of your room.

"yeah, well OF COURSE YOU DO. I KNEW THAT ALREADY."

then he giggles and prances alllll the way back to the shipping container oopsies.

[dee-writes-anime]

So I saw that your requests are open and that you do JJK and I was wondering if you’d be interested in the idea buzzing in my brain for the past week. Nanami is a total jazz lover in my mind and there’s a jazz club in town and the reader is a jazz singer full of passion. I’m thinking Nanami falls head over heels for reader especially with her voice as she sings love songs. Also I love your work it’s fantastic and always a joy to read.

The Echoing, All-Encompassing Sound of Love

FEATURING Kento Nanami x Female Reader

SUMMARY The Blue Note was a place Nanami went to unwind after hard, long days of endless, meaningless work. It was a place for him to fall into the shadows and familiarity of the deep blues and jazz, it was a comfort, but nothing had ever touched him, enraptured him like you had when you stepped on that stage.

CONTENT WARNINGS fluff, cuteness, introspective??, Kento gushing over his WOMAN (bark bark bark), obsessed man, this is some deep, soulful shit yall, only edited ever so slightly T-T

AUTHORS NOTE I have no idea where I went with this or how it got to this point, but I really hope I brought your vision to life darling anon. <3

The jazz club, nestled in the heart of the city, is alive with an intimate, cozy energy. The space is dimly lit, with soft, warm lighting casting long shadows across the room. A thin haze of smoke lingers in the air, adding to the club's mystique. The gentle hum of quiet conversations mixes with the soft clinking of glasses and the occasional low laugh, creating a comforting backdrop for the evening.

At a small, round table near the stage, Kento Nanami sits, his posture relaxed yet composed. His impeccably tailored suit fits him perfectly, as always. He swirls a glass of whiskey in his hand, the amber liquid catching the faint light. His sharp gaze is focused on the stage, where musicians are setting up their instruments, tuning and adjusting, preparing for the night’s performance. The familiar ritual of the pre-show calm settles over him, a welcome escape from the chaos of his usual day-to-day life.

Nanami takes a sip of his drink, savoring the smooth burn as it slides down his throat, and leans back slightly in his chair. His eyes flicker around the room, taking in the scattered patrons, each one lost in their own world of jazz and ambiance. He’s been coming to this club for a few weeks now, drawn by the soothing allure of the music and the promise of an evening where the only battles to be fought are between trumpet solos and sultry saxophone notes.

He doesn’t know it yet, but tonight will be different. Tonight, a new performer is set to take the stage, and with her first note, Nanami’s world will begin to shift in ways he never expected.

Nanami wasn’t the type to indulge in luxuries. He preferred the quiet satisfaction of a well-brewed cup of coffee, the crisp pages of a book, the efficiency of a perfectly executed plan. But there was something about this jazz club that drew him in like a moth to a flame. The dim lighting, the haze of smoke, the low hum of the bass—these were not things he typically sought out, but here, in this place, they provided a strange sense of comfort.

Tonight, the club is alive with its usual hum of activity. Patrons sit scattered around small tables, their faces barely visible in the shadows, illuminated only by the soft glow of flickering candles. The scent of whiskey and old leather mingles with the faint traces of smoke, creating an atmosphere that is both timeless and ephemeral. The band on stage plays a slow, steady rhythm, a saxophone gently crying out a mournful tune that fills the room with a bittersweet nostalgia.

Nanami sits at his usual table, close enough to the stage to see every detail, yet far enough to remain unnoticed by most. He’s dressed impeccably, as always, his suit crisp and neat despite the casual setting. He swirls his glass of whiskey, watching the ice cubes clink softly against the sides, his gaze occasionally drifting to the stage. His mind is calm, his thoughts quieted by the gentle rhythm of the music. He’s been coming here for weeks now, finding solace in the music, in the anonymity of the darkened room.

But tonight is different.

The moment you step on stage, something shifts in the air. It’s as if the very essence of the club changes, the room becoming quieter, the audience collectively holding its breath in anticipation. Nanami feels it too—a subtle tightening in his chest, a flutter he can’t quite name. He watches as you move into the spotlight, the soft, golden light catching on the sequins of your dress, making you shimmer like a dream. Your eyes are closed, your posture relaxed yet poised, as if you’re in a world all your own.

And then you start to sing.

The first note is like a whisper, gentle and soft, yet it carries through the room with a clarity that demands attention. Your voice is unlike anything Nanami has ever heard—smooth as honey, rich as velvet, with a depth that speaks of experiences and emotions he can only begin to imagine. Each note is carefully controlled, each word filled with emotion, and he finds himself leaning forward slightly, his focus entirely on you.

As you continue, your voice grows stronger, more confident, filling the room with a warmth that wraps around everyone like a comforting embrace. The lyrics are a love song, simple yet profound, speaking of longing and hope, of heartache and desire. Nanami feels each word as if it’s directed at him, as if you’re singing just for him, your gaze occasionally sweeping across the audience, and he can’t help but wonder if you see him.

The way you move on stage is mesmerizing. You sway gently to the rhythm, your hands occasionally rising to emphasize a particularly powerful line. There’s a passion in your performance, a raw emotion that spills out with every note, making it impossible to look away. Nanami’s heart races, a strange sensation for someone usually so composed. He doesn’t know why, but something about you, about this moment, feels significant—like a turning point he didn’t see coming.

He takes a slow sip of his whiskey, the liquid warming him from the inside out, but it’s nothing compared to the warmth your voice brings. As you hit a high note, the room seems to hold its breath, and Nanami feels a shiver run down his spine. He’s never felt so captivated, so drawn to someone. It’s as if your voice is a thread, pulling him closer, wrapping around his heart and refusing to let go.

For the first time in a long while, Nanami feels something beyond the constant grind of his duties. He feels alive, his senses heightened by the music, by your presence. He doesn’t know who you are, doesn’t know your story, but in this moment, none of that matters. All that matters is the music, the way your voice makes him feel, and the strange, undeniable pull he feels toward you.

He tries to stay for the rest of the night, anticipating the moment he can go up and introduce himself when all the performers do crowd work. However, it seems his phone has different plans as it buzzes insistently in the back pocket of his slacks, calling him cruelly away from the opportunity to catch your name, to hear your voice once more. Kento Nanami doesn't consider a man who's easy to anger, but that night, having lost the opportunity to know you, to catch just a single glimpse at your soul again, he can't help but feel his blood boil under his skin.

As he leaves the club, he convinces himself that he will see you again, that he will take the next opportunity as it comes and talk to you.

And that is how Kento Nanami quickly becomes a fixture at The Blue Note, his visits growing more frequent, timed perfectly to coincide with your performances.

He never deviates from his routine: arriving a few minutes before your set, he always sits at the same small table near the stage, his broad shoulders relaxed yet somehow still commanding in his perfectly tailored suit. He orders a single glass of whiskey, savoring it slowly throughout the evening.

His presence is quiet but unyielding, like a shadow that’s always there, watching, observing. Every time you step on stage, his gaze is already on you, unwavering, a steady anchor amidst the flickering candlelight and swirling smoke. It’s a look that’s intense, focused, as if he’s trying to unravel the secrets hidden within each note you sing.

You’ve noticed him, of course—how could you not? At first, he was just another face in the crowd, another patron drawn to the allure of jazz and dim lighting. But as the weeks passed, you found your eyes lingering on him more and more, intrigued by his quiet demeanor, the way he seemed to hang on to every word you sang. There was a mystery about him, a sense of restraint that made you wonder what thoughts lay hidden behind those piercing eyes.

As the days turn into weeks, his presence becomes a comfort, a constant in the ever-changing tide of the club’s clientele. You start to look for him as you step on stage, your gaze naturally drifting to his usual spot. The way he watches you feels different from the others—more profound, more attentive, as if he’s listening not just with his ears, but with his entire being.

And each time you sing, you can’t help but feel a strange connection to him, a silent understanding that grows stronger with every performance. His steady gaze becomes a source of inspiration, a quiet encouragement that pushes you to pour even more of yourself into each song. It’s almost as if you’re singing just for him, even though you’ve never exchanged a single word.

One evening, after a particularly soulful rendition of an old jazz standard, you notice him again. He’s there, as always, sitting at his usual table, his eyes following you with that same intense focus. But tonight feels different. There’s something in his gaze that you can’t quite place—an emotion that lingers in the air like the final note of a song.

The club is quieter than usual tonight, the dim lights casting long shadows across the room. As you step off the stage, your heart still pounding from the performance, you find yourself drawn to him, almost against your will. You’re not sure what compels you—perhaps it’s the curiosity that’s been building inside you for weeks, or maybe it’s the intensity of his focus, the way he seems to see right through you, as if he knows every emotion behind your songs.

You make your way through the tables, your steps slow and deliberate, your heart beating a little faster with each one. As you approach, you notice the subtle shift in his expression—his eyes widening slightly, a flicker of surprise passing across his otherwise stoic face. He sets his glass down carefully, his movements calm and measured, but you can see the tension in the way he sits up straighter, his gaze never leaving yours.

“Hi,” you say softly, your voice carrying just above the soft hum of the club. Up close, you notice the sharp angles of his face, the way his hair falls neatly over his forehead, and the intensity of his eyes—eyes that are watching you with a mixture of curiosity and something else, something deeper.

He nods slightly, his lips curling into the faintest hint of a smile. “Hello,” he replies, his voice low and smooth, matching the ambiance of the club perfectly. There’s a moment of silence, the kind that hangs heavy with unspoken questions and unsaid words.

You take a breath, steadying yourself. “I’ve noticed you here before,” you say, trying to sound casual, though your heart is racing. “You come to listen a lot.”

Nanami’s eyes soften, and he nods again. “I do,” he admits, his gaze steady and sincere. “You have a… remarkable voice. It’s not something one can easily forget.”

His words catch you off guard, the sincerity in them striking a chord deep within you. You smile, a genuine, warm smile that reaches your eyes. “Thank you. That means a lot, coming from you.”

He tilts his head slightly, a subtle curiosity playing across his features. “From me?”

You nod, feeling a strange sense of comfort in his presence. “Yes. You always seem so… focused. It’s hard not to wonder what you’re thinking.”

Nanami chuckles softly, a rare sound that seems to surprise even him. “I suppose I’m just… listening,” he says, his voice thoughtful. “Trying to understand the emotion behind each song. You sing with such passion; it’s hard not to be drawn in.”

Your heart flutters at his words, at the honesty in them. For a moment, the world outside fades away, and it’s just the two of you in this small, smoky club, sharing a connection that feels almost tangible.

As the evening goes on, the conversation flows naturally, each word revealing a little more about the enigmatic man who has been such a mystery to you. And as you talk, you find yourself wanting to know more, to understand the quiet strength behind his stoic exterior, and to uncover the emotions that lie beneath his calm façade.

Tonight, you’ve taken the first step into a new rhythm, one that neither of you could have anticipated.

But your exploration ends there-- at least, for the time being as Nanami finds himself pulled back into the Jujutsu world, all his extra time lost to consistent missions and training as a grade-one sorcerer.

It's only about a month later that he is finally able to force just enough time into his exhausting schedule to come see you again, the dim glow of the jazz club's lights dances across the walls, and the familiar hum of chatter fills the room as patrons settle in for another night of music.

Nanami sits at his usual table, but tonight feels different. His normally calm and composed demeanor is slightly frayed at the edges. His fingers tap nervously against the rim of his glass, and he takes a slow, deep breath. He’s been thinking about this moment for weeks, rehearsing his words, imagining every possible outcome.

He can no longer ignore the pull he feels toward you—the singer who has become more than just a beautiful voice on stage. Every performance has drawn him deeper into your world, and he finds himself wanting more. He wants to know you, to understand the person behind the melodies that have captivated him so completely.

As the final notes of your current song fade, you take a small bow, the audience’s applause a warm, familiar comfort. When you lift your gaze, your eyes naturally drift to his spot, widening ever so slightly when you see him watching you with that same intense focus. There’s something different in his expression tonight, a hint of determination that makes your heart skip a beat.

When the set ends, you make your way offstage, your steps lighter than usual. As you head toward the bar for a drink, you see him rise from his table, his tall figure cutting through the smoky haze of the club. He’s coming toward you, his movements purposeful but not rushed. There’s a resolve in his stride, a quiet confidence that makes your pulse quicken with anticipation.

“Hi again,” you greet him with a smile as he approaches, leaning casually against the bar. Up close, he’s as striking as ever, his presence commanding but not overpowering. There’s a softness to his eyes tonight, a warmth that wasn’t there before. "Long time no see."

“Hello,” he responds, his voice a touch lower than usual, an embarrassed blush lightly dusting his sharp cheekbones. He pauses for a moment, searching for the right words. You can see the faintest hint of nervousness in the way he briefly glances away before meeting your gaze again. “I wanted to… say something.” He hesitates, then continues, “First, I wanted to apologize for my absence after our conversation. I see how it might seem that my lack of attendance is directly related, and I want to make it clear that it wasn't."

"That's alright," you say so sweetly, your voice dripping with a honey that doesn't reach the stage. It makes him pause, that soulful tone that you sing with is so at odds with your personality it almost makes him want to enquire whether or not you are the same woman.

But he has more important things to do, like reveal his truth. "A-and also.. your voice… it moves me in ways I can’t quite explain. It’s like every note, every word carries a piece of you, and… it reaches me.”

His confession is quiet, almost lost in the low murmur of the club, but the sincerity in his voice makes your heart swell. There’s a vulnerability in his eyes now, a rare glimpse of the man beneath the composed exterior.

A smile tugs at your lips, and you feel a playful urge to lighten the moment. “So, does that make you my most dedicated fan?” you tease gently, your eyes sparkling with amusement.

Nanami chuckles softly, a hint of color rising in his cheeks. “I suppose it does,” he admits, a small, genuine smile breaking through his usual stoicism. “I can’t seem to stay away.”

There’s a moment of shared laughter, and in that instant, the tension between you softens, replaced by a warm, unspoken connection. It’s a feeling that’s been building for weeks, and now, standing here with him, it feels like the most natural thing in the world.

“Do you have a favorite song from my set?” you ask, curious to know more about the quiet man who seems to hang on your every word.

Without a second’s hesitation, he answers, “The ballad you sing—the one about longing and quiet devotion. It… resonates with me.”

You nod, recognizing the song he’s referring to. It’s one of your favorites too, a song filled with deep emotions, a story of unspoken love and silent yearning. His choice surprises you, but it also makes your heart flutter. There’s something incredibly personal about his answer, something that touches a place deep within you.

As the evening progresses, you prepare for the next set. Nanami returns to his table, but there’s a newfound lightness in his demeanor, a subtle shift in his posture. You take the stage again, the band picking up the soft, familiar notes of the ballad he mentioned. The room falls silent as you begin to sing.

Your voice carries through the club, each note delicate and filled with emotion. As you sing, your eyes search the crowd, drawn inevitably to him. When your gaze finally meets his, it feels like the air is charged with electricity. His eyes are locked on yours, and suddenly, the song takes on a whole new meaning. It’s no longer just a performance; it’s a conversation, a silent exchange of feelings that neither of you has dared to voice until now.

The words spill from your lips with a newfound intensity, each lyric filled with the raw emotion that’s been building inside you since the moment you first saw him. The love song, once a simple ballad, now feels like a confession, a declaration wrapped in melody. You can see it in his eyes too—a depth of feeling that mirrors your own, a quiet devotion that makes your heart race.

As the final note fades into the silence, you realize that the room has disappeared, leaving just the two of you connected by the invisible thread of the music. The applause is distant, a faint echo of reality, but all you can focus on is the way he’s looking at you—as if you are the only person in the world.

In that moment, under the soft glow of the club’s lights, something shifts between you. It’s a beginning, a step into uncharted territory, but it feels right. And as you both stand there, wrapped in the warmth of the song and the quiet understanding between you, you know that whatever comes next, it’s a melody you’re both eager to explore.

It's not long before the nights at The Blue Note become something more than just performances and applause. After the crowd disperses and the lights dim, the club transforms into a sanctuary of quiet conversations and shared silences. Nanami stays longer now, his reserved demeanor softening with each passing evening. You sit together at the bar or at his usual table near the stage, sometimes talking late into the night, sometimes just sitting in a comfortable silence that says more than words ever could.

You’ve come to look forward to these moments—the way Nanami listens so intently when you speak, as if every word matters, the way his eyes soften when he catches you smiling. There’s a calm about him, a quiet strength that you find yourself drawn to more and more. He never pushes, never asks for more than you’re willing to give. Instead, he’s just… there. A steady presence that has quickly become a constant in your life.

You learn things about him in these quiet hours. He speaks of his work in vague terms, his shoulders tensing slightly whenever the topic drifts too close. But he’s open about his love for jazz, about how he finds solace in the melodies and rhythms. He tells you about the first time he heard you sing, how something inside him shifted, how he knew he would return again and again.

In return, you share pieces of yourself with him—stories of your childhood, your love for music, and how it’s the one thing that has always made you feel truly alive. You tell him about the first time you sang on a stage, how nervous you were, and how that fear melted away the moment you began to sing. He listens with an intensity that makes you feel seen, truly seen, in a way you haven’t felt in a long time.

As the days turn into weeks, an unspoken bond forms between you. It’s there in the way Nanami orders your favorite drink without you asking, in the way he waits for you to finish after every performance, ready with a quiet smile and a listening ear. It’s in the way you look for him in the crowd, your heart lifting just a little each time you find him sitting at his usual spot, watching you with that steady, unyielding gaze.

You begin to see the depth of Nanami in the little things—the way he’s always mindful of your space, the way he listens more than he speaks, and how his rare, gentle smiles are more precious than any grand gesture. He shows his affection in thoughtful ways—a book he thought you might like, a warm cup of tea on a rainy night, a steady hand at your back when you’re feeling overwhelmed.

It’s these moments, small but meaningful, that make you realize just how much he’s come to mean to you. He’s become more than just a regular at the club, more than just a face in the crowd. He’s someone you’ve come to rely on, someone whose presence brings a sense of calm and comfort that you hadn’t realized you were missing.

Tonight, the club is busier than usual, the crowd buzzing with energy. You’re back on stage, the warm glow of the spotlight casting a soft halo around you. The band starts to play the familiar opening notes of a love song, the same ballad Nanami had mentioned that night—the one filled with longing and quiet devotion. Your heart flutters with a mix of nerves and excitement. Tonight feels different, charged with a new kind of energy.

As you begin to sing, your eyes naturally seek him out. Nanami is there, as always, sitting at his usual table. But tonight, there’s no distance between you. He’s no longer just a quiet admirer in the shadows; he’s someone who knows your stories, someone who’s seen you in your most vulnerable moments. And when your gaze meets his, it’s like the whole room falls away, leaving just the two of you connected by the music.

Your voice carries through the club, each note filled with a tenderness that wasn’t there before. You sing for him now, every word an unspoken confession, every melody a shared memory. The song is more than just a performance; it’s a dialogue, a way to say all the things you haven’t yet put into words.

Nanami watches you with a quiet intensity, his eyes soft and warm. You can see the emotion there, the depth of feeling that he so rarely shows. And as you sing, you can feel it too—a warmth spreading through your chest, a sense of belonging that makes you feel more alive than ever.

The final notes of the song hang in the air, a delicate echo that slowly fades into the silence. The crowd erupts in applause, but all you hear is the quiet, steady beat of your heart, all you see is the way Nanami’s lips curve into a gentle, knowing smile.

You take a small bow, but your eyes never leave his. There’s a shared understanding between you, a silent promise that whatever comes next, you’ll face it together. And in that moment, under the soft lights of the club, with the music still lingering in the air, you know that you’ve found something special—something worth holding onto.

As the night draws to a close and the crowd begins to thin, you make your way off the stage, your steps light and purposeful. Nanami is waiting for you, his figure a steady presence amidst the shifting shadows. He doesn’t say anything as you approach, but his eyes speak volumes—filled with a quiet devotion that makes your heart swell.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs softly, his voice carrying just above the soft hum of the remaining patrons.

“Thank you,” you reply, a smile tugging at your lips. “For everything.”

Nanami nods, his expression gentle, and without another word, he offers you his hand. You take it, feeling the warmth of his touch, the strength of his grip—a silent promise that whatever comes next, you won’t have to face it alone.

And as you stand there, hand in hand, with the music still echoing softly around you, you can’t help but feel like you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.

[disneyprincemuke]

get this right * aa23

the thought of proposing to you is one that always comes easy to alex, but what he hadn’t expected is how difficult it is to execute it

pairings: alex albon x fem!reader

warnings: literally nOthing just a buNCH OF CUTE SHIT

notes: YALL i’ve been simping for this man for like weeks but in my head, he’s just such a sweetheart that i can’t imagine him in bad situations and nOW I FINALLY GOT IT

also… i’m really liking these multiple scenario fics… if you guys have any suggestions with stuff you want to see, please feel free to send them in here and this has been in my drafts since october oh my gooooood

(f1 masterlist)

“you’re telling me you already bought the ring?” max raises an eyebrow at alex, completely baffled at the story his friend has chosen to bestow upon them.

to the question, alex nods. his head snaps to george, who then asks, “and you’ve had it for almost a month?”

again, the thai nods. “and you have yet to propose?” lando says his piece, just as shocked as the rest of the table is.

alex can only nod, dropping his head in disappointment. in the middle of their circular table sat a red velvet box. inside it is the ring that alex had very carefully picked out with his sisters and mother.

yet the diamond ring sits comfortably in the box instead of your finger. and so does he amongst his friends while he faces the million dollar questions as to why he’s had the ring and has yet to propose to you.

“are you having second thoughts?” charles speaks up, tilting his head and biting his lips in curiosity.

if the answer were to be a ‘yes’, that would be worrisome. considering alex is one of the more romantic people they all know.

“no,” alex finally speak, putting a firm hand down on the table. he meets all of their eyes and feels the judgement. he sighs. “i’m not having second thoughts. i want to marry (y/n) just as much as i said before.”

george lifts his hands up and throws alex a questioning shrug. “so what’s holding you back then?”

“well…” alex chews on the inside of his cheek. he glances down at the box and scrunches up his nose, recounting the numerous times he has tried to get on one knee for you.

“i’m afraid it’s really not that simple.”

-> 20 days ago

alex glances at the door of your shared apartment then his eyes jump to the clock hanging just above your decorative plant. you should be home any minute.

the living room has been decorated beautifully with the help of his sisters. there is a singular heart helium balloon tied down to the bouquet of roses that sits on the kitchen island.

he’s even dressed up in his best suit to greet you a warm welcome home.

he sinks further into his couch, shaking his leg in anticipation. he runs his thumb over the velvet material of the box.

alex hadn’t been planning on proposing to you so soon, if he were to be honest. but he woke up that morning to empty half of the bed, with a note in your handwriting reminding him how much you love him and that breakfast is on the table.

his heart felt so full and he just knew today is the day.

so he got up and called his sisters up. they decorated the house together. with their help, he at least has the slightest idea of what to say to you.

it would be embarrassing if he was stuttering every 5 seconds thinking of what to say to you next.

it was 15 minutes later that he started to get worried about you. you usually get home from work around the same time whenever he’s in town — give or take about 5 minutes.

as if you’d read his mind, his phone lights up with a text notification from you.

my car died. can you pick me up please?

without another question, he is already typing a response to let you know that he will be on the way. he adds on the fact that he will call a tow truck for you after you send him your location.

when he gets there, he sighs in relief that you’re safe. he’d already known you were stuck in the parking lot of a mcdonald’s, but how can he really know when he’s rarely home?

you’re sitting on the trunk of your car, eating some ice cream with your phone propped up a box of nuggets. you’re fully occupied by a video you’ve put on to accompany yourself during the wait.

“my love, why didn’t you sit in the car where the seat’s more comfortable?” alex asks as he opens the car door.

you turn your head and open your mouth with an answer, but immediately close it when he comes into view. your eyes scan him up and down, slowly gulping the remaining ice cream in your mouth.

you point at him with the spoon of your mcflurry. “why are you dressed all fancy? you were gonna go out, love?”

alex freezes. he hadn’t even thought of changing out of his outfit before coming to get you. now he has to scrape his brain for an excuse to throw you off, without sabotaging the relationship whole.

it’s like a lightbulb goes off in his head. you’ll totally buy the excuse. “i was giving my clothes a test run,” he giggles sheepishly, but hesitantly from the daggers you were shooting at him. “wanted to see what fit and what didn’t.”

he can almost envision the gears turning in your head as you process his lie. he sighs again when you turn away to lock your phone.

he’s a very bad liar. for two people who have been together for as long as you’ve been, it’s very easy to spot all his telltales.

he tries his best not to lie to you. today is when he’s exerting every single ounce of his ability to do so.

“my car battery died. i saw a screw lose when i’d checked,” you explain, gently climbing off the back of your car. you waddle over to him, lips puckered up as he bends down to meet your lips. “i’m sorry to trouble you, love. i’m sure you were enjoying your fashion show.”

he chuckles, pulling you in for a quick hug. “anything for you, my love.” he walks over to where you are and opens the mcdonald’s paper bag. “oh, you bought us dinner?”

“you dinner,” you correct him. you lean slightly into him with a loud and frustrated huff with your arms hanging around him loosely. “i’ve had such a long day at work today. it could really be deemed as the worst day; i just want to go home and relax.”

alex scrambles in his mind, thinking of several ways he can deviate you from the house a little longer. he makes a mental note to text his sister to do a quick cleanup before you make your way home.

he simply refuses to propose to you when you’re in a bad mood. he doesn’t think your answer would change depending on how you currently feel, but it just doesn’t feel right.

alex hums, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you. “what do you say we go to our spot up in the hills and chill for a little bit?”

he watches you in anticipation. if you didn’t agree, he really wouldn’t know what to do at all. there are only so many excuses he can make. and there's only so much time before his sisters can get to the apartment and get cleaning.

“hm, okay." you lean into him and squeeze him in your hug. “anywhere with you is relaxing.”

-> 18 days ago

so alex shall try again in the planned department. he is once again in your shared apartment. there is a singular rose this time with dinner on the table. this time, decorated by himself.

he’s practised in the mirror. what he should say. everything he had planned out a few days ago is forgotten as the nerves are slightly different this time.

he doesn't get nervous often, but whenever it comes to you, it's inevitable that it bothers him. when it first happened, it was a confusing feeling that he spent days pondering what exactly it is.

when george smacked his head and told him, he looked down shyly at the ground and nodded.

he got the same feeling when he asked you to be his girlfriend and met your parents.

his chosen seat is a bar stool this time, and he plays some games on his phone to remain calm and collected. though still a little bit distracted.

his attention is split between the phone in his hands and the door. occasionally, the footsteps in the hallway make his heart stop as he looks up and waits for a lock to click. it's never the door he wants to open.

his game is briefly interrupted, his mother's picture flashing on the screen while his phone buzzes. it's not unusual that she's calling, but it is a bit of a shock since she knows he's planning to propose tonight.

he picks up the call, an explanation as to why he hasn't texted at the tip of his tongue.

“i’m sorry, sweetie,” his mother’s panicked voice comes through the phone. “can you please come over? it’s an emergency.”

that’s all he needed to hear before he was darting all over the apartment. he’s popped the balloon, as there was clearly no need for it tonight, the rose is hiding behind a bunch of folded shirts in his drawer and the velvet red box goes back into the deepest pit of his underwear drawer.

this time, he remembers to change out of his clothes. it’s slightly less put together than before, but it was still an effort.

“alex, love?” the sound of the door opening makes him perk up. your voice bounces through the apartment, followed by the pitter-patter of the cats’ nails against the hardwood floor. “are you home?”

he stumbles out of your bedroom, pulling up his sweatpants. “i need to go over to mum’s.”

you stop dead in your tracks, the door still held open and the key in your hands. clearly, you notice his panic in the way he’s barely even greeted you. you raise your eyebrows and step aside, leaving a gap for him to go through the door.

“i can drive you if you want,” you offer him, watching him jog towards the car keys.

he’s shaking, and it’s noticeable from the way he’s struggling to find his wallet. his wallet that is very clearly sitting above the shoerack in the entryway.

you grab it swiftly and say his name. it makes him stop briefly, turning to you as he held up the couch’s cushion, still in search of his wallet.

you lift up the leather item and then show him your car keys. you nudge your head towards the hallway. “come on, i’ll drive.”

-> 10 days ago

third time's the charm, right? right?

alex sits in his chair, hands fixing his collar, then his hair, picking at the menu, and then the lace table cover.

"hey, love," you say from behind him, bending down to press a kiss to his forehead. "i'm sorry i'm late. there was traffic in the parking lot at the office."

"don't worry about it. i just arrived not too long ago." alex gets up to his feet, pulling you in for a tight hug. he presses a chaste kiss to your lips before running over to pull your seat back for you.

you thank him with the squeeze of his arm while you take your seat. you grab the menu and get comfortable in your seat. "have you looked at the menu yet?"

"not yet, i was waiting for you."

he feels like a stalker watching you from across the table. his hand is in his jacket's pocket, rubbing circles over the velvety material once more. when exactly is the right time to ask you?

"how was work?" alex starts, taking the menu into his hands, looking at you shyly as he awaits your response.

"it's alright. nothing out of the ordinary from me," you mutter with a shrug, flashing him a small grin before returning your attention to the menu. "the pasta looks good, don't you think?"

"i saw their salmon dish online - that looked good," alex answers. but he's been on the same page of the menu for a hot minute, his eyes have read the same item so many times that he has its description memorised.

all he can think of is how to transition to popping the question.

"it does look delicious... do you want to share a dessert after too?" you inquire, looking up at him with a huge smile. "i really want the lava cake."

"with vanilla ice cream?"

"of course!"

and you make small talk with him. which almost makes him forget the ring that's in the pocket of his jacket. you talk and he thinks and thinks and tries to find the perfect time to pop the question to you.

until your smile drops and your head angles to the side slightly. your lips part as your eyes move from his, over to the door in pure shock.

"love, what's wrong?" alex follows your moving gaze.

and he also freezes in his seat. it's his ex-girlfriend. the same exact person that you'd mentioned you thought you could never live up to.

all because his mother had slipped up and asked about her over casual conversation over dinner, and because you had noticed that his sisters still kept in constant contact with her.

he watches you, from the corner of his eyes, sink into your seat and drop your head. you press your lips together and give him a small smile. "maybe let's cancel dessert? i'm not very hungry."

-> now

"do you get why it's a little complicated now?" alex groans, throwing his head back. "it's not like i haven't tried."

charles presses his lips together, nodding slightly as he tries to assess the situation for himself. he hasn't proposed to anybody in his life, so what advice does he have to give his friend? "maybe you're overthinking it?"

"yeah," george nods. "maybe you just have to... ask her. just ask her."

"you're aware i'm proposing to her. i'm not just asking some random girl to be my prom date to the dance," alex lays out his situation slowly, scanning his friends' faces carefully.

they're not serious about just asking you without a whole get-up, are they? he never would have asked them if he'd known how minuscule this issue was to them. it's never as simple as just asking you to marry him.

it's an important question.

"actually, i think twiddle dee and twiddle dum have got a point," max smiles, pointing at their two other friends now rolling their eyes. "if it all keeps blowing up in your face when you plan your proposal, maybe you just need to do it when you... get the feeling. you know?"

"no."

"just do it when you're so overwhelmed at the thought of spending the rest of your life with her," george shrugs, taking a sip from his drink. "would help the nerves, and it makes it more genuine."

alex shakes his head. "i don't know. that doesn't make the moment very special, now, does it?"

"just try it, and then let me know."

-> 5 days later

"love!" your excited voice fills the house, prompting alex to lift his head from the armrest of the couch.

he'd been home all day, claiming a rest day from the gym and other press commitments before he had to do it all over again this weekend for another race.

"yes, love?" alex smiles, opening his arms, watching you walk out of the kitchen and excitedly walk over to him. "what's got you so preppy?"

"love, i was outside coming home from work, and i saw the cutest little snail right outside the apartment building," you giggle, dropping your bag by the foot of the couch. you drop yourself into his arms, adjusting yourself to fit the small space that the couch provides you. "i took a picture, look!"

"you took a picture of a snail?"

"yes!" you nod. "its shell looked so beautiful. and i even moved it to the side so that nobody could step on it unknowingly. just so sad when that happens to them."

and then he knows. it hits him, then and there, while you were rambling on about how beautiful this snail's shell is, that this is the moment. this is the moment that max was talking about.

he props his head up with his hand, nodding as you zoom into the picture you'd taken.

"we should get married," alex blurts, unable to hold himself back. the ring is not even with him - it's somewhere in the back of his closet. but it doesn't even seem like a necessary accessory for him at the moment.

"what?" you tilt your head, slowly dropping your hand into your lap. you sit up and look down at him. "alex, what did you say?"

"i have the ring and everything. hold on." alex scrambles to get off his seat, but you shake your head and put a hand over his chest. you pull him back into the couch, maintaining his position next to you with a puzzled stare.

"did you just say what i thought you just said?"

"yes. and i've been trying to propose to you all month," alex sighs, "something always goes wrong: your car broke down, my mum called, then we saw my ex in the restaurant. i tried setting it up, and of course, i ask you when i don't have the ring with me."

he's flailing his arms in the air as he explains his troubles to you, ultimately throwing his hands towards the direction of your bedroom before he slumps his shoulders and looks at you. "i wanted it to be a picture-perfect moment. i wanted it to be everything you dreamt about growing up. remember?"

"so i heard you right? you're asking me to marry you?" you can barely hide the smile growing on your face, eyes tearing up as you grab his hands. "i don't care about the ring. you're asking me to marry you?"

"do you still want to? i couldn't even propose to you right."

"of course, i want to marry you," you giggle, throwing your arms around him. you pepper his cheek with kisses, alex hesitantly wrapping his arms around your waist as he leans back onto the couch. "i love you, alex. you just had to ask me the question. i don't care how, where or when you'd say it."

"obviously, i didn't know that until now," alex laughs. he buries his face into your hair, making a mental note to thank max next weekend for the helpful tip.

[z4ync]

We seriously need more GBA related fics so here it goes- I NEED a fluff fic where Hipswitch finally finds out Karmor likes him.

I have a small scenario suggestion, but feel free to indulge in creative ideas of your own!

-> The gang go out on a little event, kinda like a rodeo for bounty hunters and cowboys and such(ever watched Helluva Boss? Imagine that one EP of the harvest moon festival). After the games and events are settled, all of the participants engage in a salon dance thingie as well as free drinks, just a silly little after event for everyone to relax and enjoy some socializing.

Hipswitch decides to not participate since he didn't know anyone in the rodeo, and also bcs the owners of the small bar in there weren't particularly fond of Obscurans(even if there were some in the rodeo). But then Karmor/Partner comes along and asks Hipswitch to dance with him, which he's surprised.

He tries to talk Partner out of inviting him and tries to convince him to look for a more "organic" partner instead, but Karmor refuses. So they go to dance and from there you may decide how Hipswitch finally persuade his own feelings for Karmor :D

I did however really want to bring out the fact that Hipswitch is afraid to love, since he probably doesn't think he's worthy of such a thing. And seeing Karmor loving him just...y'know?🥺💞 <- I'm very normal about them(lie)

Sorry for the ramble! Again, feel free to do what you wish!! 🩷

- 🌟

Awe thanks for the request, 🌟. It's so cute :D absolutely twin I'm so normal about them (LIES)

Twistin' and Turnin'

I LOVE THIS REQUEST. Gods I hope Mr crazy man GBA sees this and makes this anon request an episode of sorts, I'd give him my first born

Fluff

QUICK NOTE BEFORE WE START! if you haven't watched BvZ (go do it now) Karmor/Partner is mute and for the most part, in my head, communicates in sign language and big facial expressions. (Also I headcanon him as autistic because I am so he is too)

𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠. . .

Almost (Sweet Music) by Hozier ↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

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Big day. Or at least that's how Albus had been sarcastically saying all day. Apparently the boys had found out about some rodeo that was coming to town and as a joke both Albus— the bastard— had made the executive decision, that the other three didn't get a say in, that they were going for the shits and giggles.

Karmor tried his damn hardest to tell him that he'd much rather stay in one place, that he wanted to stay home and read, but he'd got the other two on their sides and it's a lot easier to ignore hands then it is to ignore a voice

▄︻デ══━一

"they got free drinks" Albus whistled as they walked around, the events were beginning to settle and Karmor kept dragging Hipswitch and Albus away from the games to prevent a dick measuring contest from starting.

"not a single one of us should be drinking" Karmor signed. He'd gotten better at signing quickly, mostly to combat Albus' quick mind. "And anyways Hipswitch can't drink"

"come on partner, I'm sure you wouldn't mind a drink or two" Hipswitch's southern accent made Karmor melt, it always did. It was far less harsh than Albus and Attila's voices, and more solid than Mahatma's.

"dancing maybe, drinking no, Albus is just going to get wasted and—" he looked at his hands, trying to remember the sign for "annoying". He ran through a few signs before just flipping off Albus in frustration, for a normally calm and sweet person Karmor was easily annoyed by inconveniences like forgetting.

▄︻デ══━一

Karmor stared longingly at the crowd of people dancing their hearts out, Kissing the people they love, singing their voices away. He'd never been good with his confidence, so he was struggling to ask the Obscuran at his side to dance.

He didn't have the words, literally and figuratively, and couldn't get Hipswitch to look at him. Maybe he was just—

"Partner, are you alright?" Hipswitch lightly poked Karmor's arm, scaring the living daylights out of him and causing him to fall out of the chair he was sitting in— knees up to his chest and the only thing touching the seat of the chair being his feet, obviously, so he was already unstable.

He got up quickly, nodding and sitting back down, before standing up again and forcing down all the nerves that bubbled up his throat and through his skin. "Dance with me." it was supposed to be a question, but it didn't seem like it was

"What?" The other man laughed "dance with ya? Partner, I'm not too sure I'm the greatest to dance with, you might want someone more... Organic, for that." He tried to de-sway the man from the idea, but Karmor is stubborn.

"dance with me" it was obvious he wasn't taking no for an answer.

Hipswitch sighed, his metal man's coming up to ruffle the mute man's hair "don't say I didn't warn ya" he said it like he had no choice in it— which was a lie, he could've said no, but Karmor would start sulking and wouldn't do anything else.

Hipswitch could've stayed there all day; Karmor's hand in his and the biggest smile on his face as he dragged him to the very edges of the dance floor.

But of course the second his foot hit the dance floor a partner song blasted through the pavilion, one of those slow ones reserved for couples and families. But Hipswitch agreed and he wanted nothing more than to make Karmor keep smiling.

"I'm gonna step on your toes" he warned, but Karmor only shook his head no, tapping the rhythm into Hipswitch's back.

Karmor's eyes were everywhere but Hipswitch, as it was so unbearably difficult to hold eyes contact with someone you liked.

Hipswitch always noticed that, and he'd ask about it but it would make Karmor let go of him and he'd already sunk into the warm metal man. Once he was attached it was hard to get him off, proven most by if you put the perpetually cold man in a warm bed, you wouldn't be able to get him out without luring him with Hipswitch and food.

A few girls had asked Karmor to dance, but just shook his head and signed "I'm not good company" or "I can't dance"

There was another thing, he always needed Hip— oh. OH.

The realization hit him like a run of bricks. Albus wasn't just playing with him, right? Whump— Karmor— Partner was always looking for Hipswitch, he was always near him, was what that what Albus was talking about

He took a moment to think, the feeling of the human's fingers tapping something into his back. It was a Rhythm of something no one knew, not even Karmor knew himself.

"Partner... I have a question" he looked down at the human. His eyes were on him expectantly. "Albus has been... Sayin' stuff, I want to know if they're true."

Karmor looked nervous, guilty, and his face was 6 times more red than before. He nodded, and had Hipswitch lead them out of the crowd. He longed to be back in it, no matter how loud crowds were, he enjoyed that.

"what has he been saying?" Damn Albus and his loud mouth.

"he's been saying..." It took Hipswitch a moment to form the words, mostly because he could ruin everything up to this and because of Karmor's unwavering stare. "Things about you likin' me"

Karmor wanted to run, to scream, to cry, to kill himself— but his voice was so shot that he can't really scream well and his hand was still in Hipswitch's so the other options weren't on the table

"and if they're true?"

"I wouldn't mind"

Karmor's eyes lit up, he thought that he was gonna have to take Hipswitch's gun and shoot himself, but he didn't! Hurray!

"it's true I like—" he stopped, he felt like a kid again, even if he didn't remember what that was like for him. Like felt too childish, to compare what he felt to just like was a crime, it was wrong

"I love you" Karmor's eyes squeezed shut, he couldn't open them. what if Hipswitch looked uncomfortable or disgusted.

Karmor was startled by arms wrapping him in an embrace. He started crying, he didn't know why he just did.

"I love you too"

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A/N. Sorry if this is all over the place, I'm not too good at writing and I actually haven't gotten to the most recent episode of BvZ yet because each episode is like an hour long and I end up passing out during them.

[yourislandgirl]

you're such a social blog, friends with many 💕

i'm curious to know if your moot's blogs were run by idols, who would be running whose 🤔

I- YOU THINK IM POPULAR??!!? ahem thanks 😌

anyway this is such an interesting question ????

ok let’s go

(and i’m not just gonna pick your biases bcs . that’s just obvs)

⋆ ───── 𝜗𝜚 ───── ⋆

@hyuckworld (or more accurately her sideblog that i’ve been a dedicated follower of for two years now @jayflrt)

i feel like her humour and also the nuance she carries in her stories and fics screams heeseung to me, ya know? like it’s the sort of creativity that heeseung has, whether it’s when he’s making a joke or executing a very precise vocal run ? he’s very much a “never let em know your next move” typa guy and that’s kinda what alice’s fics and smau’s feel like, the whiplash between humour and plot goes crazy and afterwards you kinda don’t wanna leave behind the world she created

@enjakey

darling mootie who feels like a fated twin (we’re so fated bro, alexa play fate by enhypen every time me and hg interact) anyway, she really gives me ni-ki vibes ?? there’s always a lot of freshness with her fics, every time i finish one i’m like “wow, i’m gonna be thinking abt this for a while..” and that’s exactly the vibe ni-ki gives on stage? he just stands out when it’s his time to shine and it’s the same with this incredible writer here

@yeonmuse

one of my first moots i adore her !! alright, musie gives sunoo ok?? her plots? her ideas? they’re alluring !! and esp her smau’s have this snark and sass that sunoo gives, his facial expressions, the way he has this warmth and sweetness that can switch up so instantaneously ?? i can’t explain it but there’s smth abt musie’s works and musie’s blog and her aesthetic that gives me sunoo vibes, like his range as a performer and artist mirrors her range as a creator ya know?

@tobiosbbyghorl

OOP WE GOT AN ACCURATE QUEEN HERE — rie really gives me sunghoon vibes im sorry she won guys >.< like idk smth abt the way her fics pull me into a mental movie every time i read, and i can see the scenes unfolding in my head so vividly, it’s truly giving sunghoon when he’s acting in enha’s concept trailers, actor!sunghoon who brings so much emotion and depth to his scenes so naturally, that’s rie

@hoondrop

ok here me out, jake !! every time i’ve spoken to moony i’ve always come out of the conversation with a smile and a good laugh, she literally has the same energy as what i assume being friends with jake would be like? if that makes sense? there’s also smth really funny about how she switches so easily from hard thoughts to like being all cute in the dms like the dichotomy gives me whiplash, so similar to jake on stage vs off stage

@jaylaxies

another queen who got her bias bcs she really does give me jay vibes? i think it’s the dedication? i’ve been following aria’s work for YEARS bro like she’s an OG enhablr legend to me so idk that sort of dedication and hard work screams jay to me, and like you can tell she takes extreme pride in her work? we always hear about how jay is so ambitious and has big dreams for himself and enha so yeah aria’s blog is giving jay

@taetebebe

lucky number three of my moots to get her bias !! rose totally gives jungwon omg, the way i instantly clicked with her and she and i have so much in common, i feel this way abt jungwon too like yeh i have a crush on him but seriously speaking, i could see us being good friends legit ?? also rose’s humour is really cheeky and kinda sweet wrapped up in sarcasm while also having the ability to be really deep in conversation? like it reminds me of jungwon’s lives where he’s either a meme or my unofficial therapist icl

[ilovegeorgie]

Hii!! I love your fanfics I was thinking if it would be okay if you could make a fanfic or a story of Paul and reader making music about eachother together in studio

i need my love to be here

paul mccartney x reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none !

summary: paul, you and martha the executive producer

a/n: this is such a cute idea!! giving a lot of paul and linda vibes (mostly bc of ram :p) so i tried to include martha here too :)

paul was sitting on a stool, bass resting in his lap, scribbling something down in a notebook. martha was curled at his feet, snoring gently.

she sat cross-legged on the studio rug, strumming gently on an old acoustic guitar, mouthing the lyrics she’d been working on, something simple, something sweet.

paul glanced over his notebook at her, a smile tugging at his lips.

“you always do that, right?,” he said.

she looked up. “do what?”

“that scrunchy face. when you’re trying to rhyme something, you get all serious like you’re trying to solve a math problem.”

she rolled your eyes with a grin. “well, you know that rhymes aren’t really my thing’.”

“well yes,” he said, hopping down from the stool. “but it’ll always be funny.”

she flushed, ducking her head. “you’re terrible.”

paul sat beside her on the floor, close enough that their knees brushed. he held out his notebook, turning it so she could read.

it was a half-finished verse.

her breath caught. “that’s so pretty.”

“well, yeah,” he said sheepishly, shrugging. “it’s about you.”

she blinked at him, a warm, quiet ache blooming in her chest.

“okay, your turn,” he said, nudging her notebook toward hers. “if i can be sappy, so can you.”

she hesitated, then flipped a few pages. “it’s not done yet…”

“doesn’t have to be,” he said, chin on his hand, eyes soft.

she cleared her throat and read the half finished verse.

paul blinked, then slowly broke into the biggest grin.

she laughed as he lunged towards her, tackling her into the rug with a playful groan. martha barked and came over, tail wagging, promptly plopping herself on both of their legs.

“martha, love, we’re being romantic, come on,” paul mumbled into her shoulder while she giggled.

lying there, tangled up with him and the fluffiest sheepdog in britain, she sighed contentedly.

paul looked down at her, eyes glowing. “you know… this could be our thing. a bunch of love songs for no one but us.”

she smiled. “and martha.”

he grinned. “of course, how can we forget about our executive producer?”

he leaned in then, nose brushing hers, fingers threading with hers on the floor.

[daydreams-after-dark]

Hellaurr

I had a very interesting dream plz I'm desperate for Minho to facefuck me so so so so rough plz I'm literally foaming in the mouth for his cum (desperate ass call for desperate measures 🤣🤣🤣)

(with lots of degrading plz)

Hehe if ur comfortable could you make it a male!reader? If not it's fine hehe just make it gn or fem, heheheheheheh tysm 🎉✨💅

I was so excited when this ask hit my inbox. Thank you @chuuchuu1224 for sending me my first ever request for a male!reader 😘

I thoroughly enjoyed writing this, and it was so fucking hot in my head, but now I’m about to post it I’m a little nervous. As much as I love writing from a guys perspective (usually skz member’s perspective with fem!reader), I’m not a guy. So I’m never going to truly know the experience. I hope I did ok 🫣

To my female readers: I really hope you give this a read because I’m pretty sure you’ll enjoy it if you generally enjoy my work. Minho face fucking is a need.

Lastly, degradation is a challenge for me (I’m a praise baby, but I love reading degradation). I’m sorry if it’s not degrading enough 😬.

CW basically everything in the ask 👆

‼️⚠️As always MDNI⚠️‼️

You watched Minho perform every single week at the local theatre. Saying he was your favourite dancer was an understatement. You were well and truly obsessed with him. Your eyes would be glued on his incredible physique from start to finish, not even noticing the other performers.

Minho was everything. Strong and controlled. Fluid and graceful. He had an expression of disdain one minute, a cute flirty glimmer in his eyes the next. And the way he rolled his hips whilst looking down at himself? Well, that always got you leaking, right there in the theatre.

Every week, you'd grow hard in your pants while sitting in the audience, hoping the person who sat next to you didn't see the boner your were sporting.

You'd think about him all the way home, and more often than not, you had to fuck into your hand before you even made it into the house. You always made sure to keep a packet of tissues in the glovebox of your car.

Tonight, Minho's performance had you hornier than usual, and you made an executive decision to go find the bathrooms to alleviate your situation, before anyone had a chance to see the state you were in.

"Y/n? That is your name, right?" A voice stopped you just as you were about to walk into the bathroom. Startled, and a little panicked, you turned to the person speaking to you.

Minho. Fuck. Your hands quickly tried to hide the bulge in your pants.

Minho's eyes followed your hands to your crotch. "hmph." he grunted and raised an eyebrow.

"Y-yes...that's me." you smiled sheepishly whilst dying inside.

----

"I've seen you here before, y/n." Minho said as he stripped the last of your clothes off your body. "Many times, in fact."

You were laying completely naked on a huge couch in a back room of the theatre. You gripped your cock as you watched Minho casually undress himself, tossing the garments to the floor. "Do you come to watch me?" he turned and smirked at you, before his eyes dropped to where you held yourself. “Tsk tsk. I didn’t say you could touch yourself now did I?”

You immediately released your cock, letting it lay against your lower abs, and swallowed hard in anticipation. What was Minho going to do to you?

“I see your pretty little face in the audience. Every. Single. Week.” He sauntered towards you and ran his hand up your leg, then your torso, causing you to tremble. “Watching me with that slutty mouth hung open.” He cupped your chin. “And you know what I wonder to myself every time I see you?”

Your eyes grew wide as they stared up at the man you’d admired from afar for so long.

“What that mouth would look like choking on my cock?”

You groaned and closed your eyes, your dick hardening even more.

“Hmm.” Minho stroked your cheek. “You like the idea of my cock rammed down your throat.” He forced your mouth open, shoving two fingers inside. You moaned again and sucked on his fingers, showing him what a good, obedient boy you could be.

He pulled his fingers out abruptly, dragging your saliva all over your chin.

Minho moved to grab your legs and pulled you further down the length of the couch, then climbed over you to straddle your chest. His magnificent dancer’s thighs pressed down on your chest, and his delicious, mouthwatering cock, was mere inches from your face.

“Beg me for it.” He said coldly, gripping his cock with one hand and a fistful of your hair in the other.

Your eyes started to water at the desperation you felt. You wanted him so bad you’d do anything to have him just use you. Use you for his pleasure and discard you when he was done. You’d thank him for it.

“Pl-please… Minho… need…your cock. Need your cum.” You whined.

Minho rubbed the head of his cock along your lower lip, swiping precum on it like it was lip gloss. You started to wriggle, you needed him to put it inside you now!

“Use me… please…I wanna be your cockslut.” You sobbed. Minho kept rubbing the tip of his cock along the edge of your mouth.

“Yeah? Want me to fuck you good? Destroy your throat, hmm?”

You nodded desperately.

“Okay. If you think you can take it. Open.” He demanded, and you complied instantly. “No touching yourself or me.”

He pushed his cock deep into your mouth and hissed as it passed over your tongue.

“That’s it.. take it down…Such a fucking slut. Yes. Open wider.” He pulled out halfway and thrust his hips to push himself in further.

You couldn’t breathe. He filled your mouth so good. He tasted like soap and sweat. His skin so velvety and smooth, and the way the veins felt along you tongue did things to your insides.

Minho fucked into your mouth furiously, hitting the back of your throat every single time. Your eyes watered and you hoped with everything you had that you didn’t gag.

“You’re taking this a little too well.” Grunted Minho. With the hand that was gripping your hair, he pushed the back of your head into the couch, and angled his hips to push his cock in until your lips were wrapped around the base. The tip squeezed past your throat, making you gag with a gurgling sound, and your face turn red.

“Finally choking on it properly now.” He slapped your cheek, and fucking you harder still.

You were pinned under his strong legs, unable to escape - not that you wanted to. Your legs started moving about, and your hips began to jutt against thin air. You wanted some friction, but your poor cock had to just lay there, swollen and neglected.

Your hand came up to rest on Minho’s thighs. That was a big mistake.

Minho paused, still lodged deep in your mouth. “What did I say, slut? Take your filthy hands off me.” He said through gritted teeth.

You whimpered around his cock as you removed your hands.

Minho sighed and looked up to the ceiling, before looking back down at your fucked out face. “What am I going to do with you?” He asked himself.

He pulled out of your mouth and climbed off you. Your eyes widened. “No… please! Minho… I can be good… I wanna be good… please… need you..”

Minho simply ignored you and moved around behind your head to drag you so your head was hanging off the edge of the couch arm. Then he disappeared momentarily, returning with a soft belt from a bath robe.

“Little boys that misbehave must be punished. Don’t you think?” He said tying your hands together, then moving back to wear your head hung.

“Open wide little cockslut.” He said in the most condescending tone you’d ever heard. Of course you obliged, opening as wide as you could.

You knew he wasn’t going to be gentle. His cock pushed past your tongue and deep into your throat, until he was all the way in. The more you struggled and the more you gagged, the harder his cock became, and the further down your throat he forced himself.

“This is what you wanted isn’t it? You wanted to choke on it.” He growled as your lips pressed against his pelvis. “I’m gonna be real nice and give you exactly what you want. I’m gonna make you fuckin’ choke.” His hand came to your throat and pressed around where his cock was stretching you open.

“Fuck…so tight…shit…fuck.” He hissed, slamming himself into you brutally.

You had no choice but to gladly take it.

“So fucking pathetic, with your leaking cock. Bet you’re gonna cum untouched… so desperate… so fucking pathetic.”

You whimpered, moaned, thrashed around as Minho held your head in place with his cock and his hands. “That’s it. Take it like the desperate little cockslut you are.”

Your neglected cock was well and truly leaking, tears were streaming from your eyes, and your mouth was dribbling messily. Yet you needed more.

You needed Minho’s cum. You wanted him to completely fucking ruin you. Just the thought of tasting his cum had you on the edge of your own orgasm, and your demise came when you opened your eyes to get the perfect view of Minho’s ass. Your cries were muffled as the coil inside you snapped and you felt ropes of your own cum land on your stomach as your orgasm hit you like a tsunami.

“So pathetic.” Grunted Minho when he saw you make a mess on yourself, then he was filling you up. “Drink it up… That’s it… Like a good little cockslut.” He panted as spurts of cum hit the back of your throat, then he pulled out to paint your face with the reminder of his seed.

“Fuck!” He growled throwing his head back as he allowed himself to calm down.

You tried to catch your breath whilst trying to desperately lick as much cum from around your face as possible. You didn’t want to waste a drop.

Minho began to redress, raking his eyes over you as he pulled his sweats up. You thought he was going to just leave you there, naked and used. If you were honest with yourself you were thrilled with that thought.

Unexpectedly, Minho knelt beside you with a towel, wiping you up and untying you.

Then he did something more unexpected.

He took you in a deep kiss.

asks are open

@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @weareapackofstrays @kangnina @3rachasdomesticbanana @palindrome969 @xxkissesforchanniexx @chuuchuu1224 @3rachasdomesticbanana @palindrome969 @xxkissesforchanniexx

Sorry if you’re tagged twice… my end indicates my original tag of you didn’t work properly.

[hextechmaturgy]

lucanis' romance is disappointing because like many other aspects of this game you can practically smell all the wasted potential

spoilers below!

we know from the stories that came before veilguard that cousins lucanis and illario grow up knowing caterina has a favorite grandson she intends to make first talon one day. it's implied and sometimes outwardly said that lucanis is indeed a better assassin than illario, and being a better assassin in a FAMILY OF ASSASSINS is a big deal. at the same time, we find out that illario is the more personable between the two. lucanis says he can charm just about anyone and zara calls him 'amatus' right before illario fucking kills her, so we know that's true. we find out through banter that lucanis had a crush on viago and failed miserably to show him because his only idea was to get him a knife, and, should you have an active romance with him, he will also admit to your companions that you are his first relationship

lucanis spends his entire romance backing away from you. he barely reacts to your flirting, he ducks away from a first kiss to 'clear his head', he won't shut up about coffee, and the moment you commit to him is just a quick scene where he SAYS he made you dessert, meanwhile, pretty much every other character is kissing you and declaring how much they care for you, emmerich's first kiss happens relatively early into the second act and it's such a sweet scene.

all this tells me is the writers were going for 'fail boy's first romance', packed with the slow burn of someone who has no idea how to show you how much he cares for you. it's sweet! i romance alistair every time for pretty much the same reasons. there's something very disarming about a strong, capable man who turns to mush around you because you're just that precious to him, because he's afraid you'll cringe and run away at his inexperience/awkwardness/eagerness.

but while i think that idea was perfectly executed with alistair, i think what we got for lucanis is extremely weak, to a point where i started wondering if my game was bugged and i had missed a romance flag somehow, or soft locked myself into someone else's romance. that's when it becomes a problem for me. when i flirt with him and he DOESN'T REPLY, it's not even him looking awkward, it's him not looking interested. he certainly sounds cute and awkward around neve, why does he show her that side and not rook? it felt like they were meant to be together, especially with the whole 'pick between treviso and minrathous' storyline, but i checked out neve's romance and that one is really good, one of my favorites in fact, SO WHAT GIVES? it's not that lucanis is reserved as a character, it's more like the game wasn't programmed with his reserved nature in mind. so he shows you he's committed by making you desert... couldn't we have had a scene where we watch him baking, instead of hearing him say he did it? we run into him preparing a surprise and he's out of sorts, or he asks us to go on another grocery run and you piece together what he's planning from peeping the ingredients. SHOW DON'T TELL IS THE MOST BASIC OF WRITING ADVICE, SO PLEASE ???? they did it with kaiden in ME3, he cooks for you and burns the garlic because you're just so distracting. there were multiple opportunities for cute and unsure, neve's romance is surprisingly tender and this one could've been too.

as it is right now, lucanis' romantic interactions feel like game bugs, his pet demon seems to be far more entertaining than him/is generally mega underutilized (can you imagine a scene of spite getting done with lucanis' bullshit and sleep walking some more to tell you he's smitten), and if you are planning to have lucanis as your romance, you should go into it knowing that after your first good, dare i say EXCELLENT first romantic chat at that coffee shop ("like a kiss goodbye" charmed me there and then) you'll be waiting until literally the end of the game for any sort of pay off. there's a good romance to explore here, the complete opposite of zevran as far as crow romances go, but sadly these fun dynamics will only get decently explored in fanfiction i fear