#his facial hair is both amazing and ridiculous

[pascallatte]

Angel?

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Actress!reader

Summary: GQ Germany with PEDRO PASCAL aka him fawning over Y/n over a single this or that.

Date: September 2020

Warnings: none

A/N: I love love love this interview, his voice, his hair, the vibes, HIS SMILE!!! Everything, alsoooooooo probably the last one for 2020 for now next one may be a throwback or we’ll move on to ’21 (most probably). SO everyone, happy reading and tell me what you think!! Love lots x

“Hi, I’m Pedro Pascal I’m here at GQ Germany Cover shoot.” Pedro’s seen sitting in a chair in the set of GQ Germany for this month’s issue. The team decided to get him in to join a quick get-to-know-him-better game, an upgraded version of This or That.

Swimming trunks vs beach shorts

Sucking in a breath when the staff shows him two pictures, ”I would have to go with shorts, because of what I could pull off at my age. Despite the continuous disagreement from someone.”  He smiles.

Sweater vs hoodie

“Hmm I love a sweater though but I really love a hoodie.” Biting his lip, Pedro asks.

“Can any of these be ties?… Really?!” 

“Oh, it has to be absolute. Hmm, this is something me and my girlfriend often debate on, ‘cause she steals most of my tops which makes me buy more but then when I do buy hoodies she tells me to buy sweaters. But since this is my interview hmm…Well alright, hoodie it is. Either way, we take turns using it.” With a very satisfied tone, he explains his side looking at a camera with a small fond smile.

Oberyn Martell vs Din Djarin

Shocked by what he’s been shown, Pedro can only laugh as he responds, “Wow, that is a really hard decision to make.”

“Umm, the armour didn’t work so well for me at the end of Game of Thrones, but it looked amazing,” taking in a breath as the gears in his head takes in the pros and cons of each suit and character.

“That being said the armour in The Mandalorian looks very very good and I'm still alive. So I guess I would have to- you know I can’t I just can’t I cannot betray Oberyn and choose The Mandalorian. But umm let’s just leave it at that being an impossible decision.”

Smart vs traditional watch

“Traditional watch, people who use smart watches are people who can’t tell or read the time. And by people I mean…” Pedro turns to look at the camera and gives it or soon the viewers a knowing look, in hopes that they know what he meant by that.

Fedora vs baseball cap

“Those are my hats!…Oh wow”

“Well clearly since you have a picture of a fedora that belongs to me and a baseball hat that belongs to me… I favour both” he elaborates while raising his hands in a somewhat joking accusatory way to the staff who has asked him to pick one between his favourites. To him, it’s like asking him to pick between things or people he adores.

“I cannot and you cannot make me decide between a fedora and a baseball cap. I love them both equally”

Facial hair or clean shaven

“What? Are you making me choose between clean-shaven or facial hair?” 

“They’re currently showing me two pictures of myself.” He stops for a moment, making his sort of thinking face as he thinks back to 10 or so years ago.

“One that is maybe… 10 years ago, where clean-shaven may have worked.

"Umm, I'm gonna have to go with the very strange patchy facial hair that I am capable of growing on my face.”

Contacts vs glasses

Answering immediately, “Glasses.. what a ridiculous question.” He shakes his head as if telling them the obvious as well as the light tone of his voice.

“Glasses, sticking my own fingers into my eyes? I have yet to cross that threshold.”He continues to shake his head as he explains why he’d chosen it.

Y/n’s sheer 2018 met gala dress or her 2019 white oscars dress

Pedro’s entire face lit up as soon as the staff showed him the choices. “Ohh bot- this is a hard one…I love both of them, and it looks incredible on her,” he emphasizes, adorably staring at the pictures.

Sitting still while continuing to admire his love, “Ahhh would you look at that..."

"She’s beautiful don’t you agree?” Pedro straight away smiles as soon as the staff behind the camera agrees with him.

“The first one makes her look like this mermaid or angel- you know like a fallen angel, just for me, and the other is very- something she would dress herself in with how simple yet elegant it looks. So I would have to go with her Oscars look.”

A voice off cam tells him something that had caught his attention, making his expression turn into shock and amusement, “It’s a wedding dress?! Really?! She wore a wedding dress to the Oscars… hmm” slowly ruffling his hair he sits back after getting a closer look at the picture.

Leather or bomber jacket

“Wow, leather jacket. I have and I think I always will love a leather jacket.” Explaining this with a small smirk that had him explaining his thoughts right after.

“Y/n has bought us a matching pair of these incredible vintage leather jackets and-so basically it’s something that I will never ever lose my interest in.”

Coffee or tea

Nodding his head, he looks straight to the camera, “Coffee. Coffee all the way.” 

Raising his hands up similar to a surrendering position to defend himself, he chuckles before continuing, “It’s not that I don’t like tea but then again coffee is what keeps me up and going other than y/n… who is by the way is also a coffee addict.”

Clasping his hands together, he finalizes, “Coffee, 100%”

"Thank you for watching and click here to subscribe to GQ Germany!"

the dress for reference:

A/n: so I wrongly timed the post of this one, instead of it being posted yesterday at noon it was set to 12 am today haha, never gonna do that again. Anyways if you're reading this thank you and have a nice day ahead of you!!!

Taglist: @benonlinear @t-stark35 @heyitsme-2 @elleeeee21 @holmesstrange @tagakalat @flyestvenustrap @oldermenaremyreligion @cherryred444 @hobiismyhopeu @ilovehotdadsandshit @djarinsstuff @guacala @avengersheart @pukka-latte @lilvampirina @mmkkzz

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x actress!reader #pedro pascal x female reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fic

[dollyfl1rt]

warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, (pinv), supposed to be one night stand, my very vanilla definition of filth, and a wee bit of praising if you squint

you met dean in some dive bar in the middle of nowhere.

of course you were working a case and so was he. the night had so much in store for the two of you it was ridiculous.

talking, flirting, dancing, and a lot of drinking. you both being highly inebriated made the moment a thousand times better. “what? no no no no, no. scarface is wayyyy better than rocky” he spoke in his drunken language earning a scoff from you and an look as if he had shot you.

“how drunk are you? rocky, all versions; for clarification is like a gazillion times better than scarface..on its worse day” you shrugged sipping your third beer. “yeah yeah whatever…” he said shaking his head with a grin to die for just below his prickly facial hair.

“after this you have any plans?”the man in hunter green questioned rubbing the fabric above your knee, “i was gonna go watch rocky again” you snorted softly shrugging and tilting your head a bit “why? you were gonna ask me out?”.

“if i were, would you say no?” dean asked mocking your movements, his hands going just a tad higher. in your head, him asking if you would say no was the dumbest thing ever. look at him! but of course you still had to play cat and mouse.

“depends..are you always this flirty or is it the liquor?” flew out of your mouth as your hand slide onto his, simply holding it. once the man felt your warmth he looked down and smiled as his cheeks turned red hot.

now you don’t remember much from that night, but what you do remember is..

“mm” you moaned one that was muffled by his lips as you wrapped your arms around his neck and he tossed you onto the bed of the shitty motel he was staying at.

without thinking dean quickly pulled his black cotton shirt over his head and throws it onto the floor.

next was his pants, man oh man were you excited. he slid the dark wash denim down to his ankles as you started to do the same before he abruptly stopped you.

“nuh uh, i wanna” the man suggested as he began kissing your neck, switching from one side to the other. you cooed softly as his tongue worked its way up your neck and down again.

soon enough, he was down at the waistline of your jeans making a hickey belt. his words.

this continued on for awhile until he undressed you completely looking down at his artwork, a true picasso he was.

“are you sure?” dean inquired gently biting your earlobe as you nodded arching your back a bit. this received a low deep chuckle from him.

he then flipped you onto your back and rubbed himself against your plush lips. “gah” he groaned as you whined rocking your hips trying to get any friction you can “hold on baby” the man towering you told moments before sliding himself into you.

“shit” you hissed your back arching even deeper than before. the thrusting started shortly after. any innocent patrons of the hotel would’ve thought you were clapping. a very rhythmic pace he tried his hardest to maintain.

“mmphm” you moaned biting down on your bottom lip, “i wanna hear you, tell me how good you feel right now” he leaned down whispering into your ear causing an string of cuss words to roll off your tongue.

“shit right there please” you begged placing your hands onto deans hipbones in an attempt to stop him from bottoming you out. “move your hand” he stated swatting your hands away and pinning them above your head.

“damn you feel like heaven baby” the hunter growled as you felt his balls slapping against your ass. “you feel so fucking pretty, my god”.

that.

that was what sent you over the edge and into an very amazing orgasm. you began twitching a little and felt dean pull himself out as your hand flew to your throbbing cunt.

“open ‘em back up” dean told spreading your legs as he continued running his hand up and down his cream coated cock before hot milky colored strings of cum shot onto your stomach.

“fuck that was good baby” he praised as you smiled weakly and he leaned down pecking your lips.

@taylormarieee for my darling 🩷

#spn #dean winchester #supernatural #taylormarieee<33 #dean x female!reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean x reader #dean winchester smut #dean winchester supernatural

[mrwavellswaps]

I am sooooooooooooo tired! I am an awkward adult who never grew out of the fat kid phase. Even though I am in my late 20s, I thinks it too late for me to be the all-American beefcake I see via social media and irl. I am a college undergraduate who dreams of becoming the ultimate golden boy. Like Jacob Elordi, Nick Bosa, or Ross Lynch. I just want to experience what it's like to have a face card and the ability to stop anyone in their tracks with just one look. Is it really too much to ask?

Not at all my friend! You’ve come to the right person! There’s nothing The Great Mr Wavell can’t accomplish! Now let’s see… So you you dream of becoming American star who’s adored by all hmm? Beloved both in person and online with a body and looks that could get you practically anything or anyone you want? I can certainly work with that.

First of all you’ll feel an odd bubbling sensation break out across your body. It won’t hurt but it’ll definitely feel strange at first. It might take a moment for you to realise what’s happening but once you notice your clothes starting to get baggier and droop, you’ll start to pick up on it. My magic working it’s way across your body and melting away all that fat you’ve carried with you since childhood. Before long you won’t even recognise yourself. You’ll be lean and skinny to say the least. Almost twink levels of skinny. But that won’t last for long.

The bubbling sensation will subside but shortly after it’ll be replaced with an almost burning feel that’ll spread like wildfire across your being. Now this one might sting a little… but in an oddly satisfying way. Like the pain you’d get after pushing yourself in the gym. That burn will run through your muscles, feeding them with all the energy they need to grow and expand. And that they do. You’ll have the pleasure of looking down at yourself in amazement as your body grows larger again only this time with pure muscle instead. Legs growing huge and sturdy, arms hulking out into massive canons of muscle, chest heaving forwards into two thick pecs that you’re not gonna be able to resist squeezing. Even your ass will grow into a nice round jock butt while your cock adds on a few extra inches too.

Once that’s done burning will dissolve, leaving you with a glorious physique. Only for one last sensation to take its place. This time it would be more of a frosty tingling surging through every fibre of your being. Finally my magic had begun rewriting your DNA. Things like your height and the size of your hands and feet were the first to change along with other subtle defining features of your body altering themselves in order to create something entirely new out of you. Most notably however was your face. What was once the face you saw every Moroni g in the mirror swiftly began to alter. Eyes, ears and nose all subtly changing and moving positions. Your jaw perfecting itself as facial hair decorated it immaculately while your hair restyled itself. Simply just the shape of your head as a whole changing ever so slightly to fit this new persona being graced upon you.

Only after all that would my magic and strange transformation feelings that came with it truly disappear, leaving you with a whole new body and identity. Who’s identity you may ask? Well you’ll find out as soon as you get a good look at yourself in the mirror and see the face and body of none other than Nick Bosa! As soon as you do the world will spin around you and you’ll find yourself at Nick’s house. In his bedroom. On,y it’s not his anymore. It’s yours. You’re the one and only Nick Bosa now! His fame, his accomplishments, his body, his ridiculously good looks. They all belong to you now!

So go out there and have fun Nick! You can finally have the life you’ve always dreamed of having. The life of an All-American Beefcake! And I just know you’re gonna love every second of it.

P.S it’s never too late my man! If you want that body you dream of you have more than enough time left to grab it. If you just put in the time and effort and eat right then you’ll have the body you’re dreaming of in no time! Everything takes time but loads of people out there have started their journey’s much later than you and have still achieved their goal! If you want it, you can have it! Trust me ❤️ - Wavell

#magic #identity theft #male transformation #jock #male muscle growth #musclegrowth #muscle worship #permanent #celebrity tf

[zcorners120]

brother's bestfriend (part two)

a/n: requested part two by @lqvesoph and @luxebeautystyle !

S M U T; 18+ MASTER LIST

synopsis; Charles had just confessed his feelings towards you after all these years of hating each other, and so you decide to pursue a relationship with him.

warnings; mentions of alcohol use, smut; oral!male receiving

Having such a confession, after all these pent up years of hatred, gathering, and collecting like antique books on a shelf. Arguments that you remember, laced with dust.

The worst part was that you couldn't even confide in your bestest friend, Arthur. You weren't even sure how he'd react, but you could imagine that it wouldn't be very positive.

A knock on your door takes you out of your wondering state and back into reality.

"Come in!" You call out, the door creaking open revealing the all too familiar freckles and moles dotted on Charles' face.

"Amour, we need to talk about our situation." He continues, rambling, "I mean I don't know what happened, seeing you with him made my blood boil."

"We could meet tonight." Cutting him off slightly, "It's all just, a little much. Very sudden infact."

"I know, I know. Come to mine at 8, Arthur's not home." He says, slightly frustrated yet relieved. He does a half smile, and backs away from your house doors, his Ferrari roaring you a goodbye.

The clock slowly ticks it's way closer to 6, so you push yourself off your palms, leaving the comfortable sanctity of the leather sofa. Pulling on a silk red dress, doing your hair up, big beauty queen style, how everyone likes it.

The drive to Charles' was nerve wracking, with every touch of the expensive steering wheel, sparks flew from your fingers. The streets were near to empty in Monaco, relief flooding over you that no one will see you driving into the Monegasque's house without Arthur.

Charles' last stunt with the paparazzi was spread on every tabloid and newspaper, causing you to lay low for a while. You had to reassure Arthur that it was just another disagreement.

Realising you were on the driveway of the mansion, you step out, heels clicking against the concrete, as you clutch your small Jacquemes bag to your side.

You rap your knuckles against the mahogany doors, hearing some scuffling behind them.

"Bonsoir Amor." Charles welcomes, his rough voice calming your nerves slightly. He opens the door wider, allowing you to come in.

"Bonsoir." You reply, walking through the familiar entryway.

Charles was biting his lip, watching you walk in with that amazing Ferrari red dress. You were starting to have an effect on him already, but he knows the time will come.

You place your bag down on the counter, and walk over to the living room, feeling weird sitting here without Arthur. Spotting a ridiculously expensive bottle of wine on the coffee table, along with two wine glasses.

"Quite forward to have the wine out, no?" You say aloud, hearing some low music play.

He sits next to you on the sofa, but not too close. He loosed his tie at the neck, and assessed your facial expressions.

"Well, if I'm going to do something, I'll do it right. After all, you're only here for a casual talk, aren't you?" He pushes, quirking his left eyebrow up, teasing.

You caught your bottom lip in-between your teeth, trying to think of a way to fill the silence. It was a nervous habit, and Charles could tell, as he comes forward and places a hand on your thigh.

"Cherie, I'll only tell you the truth as you know I don't bullshit. I like you, a lot, and I have for a long time. I love seeing the way your mind works, and how worked up you get over me." He says, hushed, as if someone were to hear.

You could've melted on the spot, as you leaned into his touch, craving more.

"Mhm, you're a changed man or whatever. Now kiss me." You grew impatient, and could see past his defence mechanisms.

You had him to yourself now, and you wanted to take advantage of it. A couple arguments here and there doesn't change the fact that he's undeniably attractive, and is into you.

You both leaned in, like a magnetic force pulling you together. A billion thoughts racing through both your minds, but only one thing certain. Each other.

The kiss became more passionate and more intense as you dropped your wine glass on the table, and pulled your hand up to touch his cheek. His short stubble tickling your delicate fingers.

He took his shirt off, exposing his tan skin and soft abs. Breaking the kiss, you mimic his actions, moving as one. You slip your dress off, it being bunched around your hips, showing your red lace bra.

"Shit, you're so beautiful." He claims in a rushed whisper, leaning back on the sofa and pulling me down over him.

You smirk against the kiss, and pull away. You look over his wild brunette hair, swollen red lips, and eyes trained on you. Kissing down his body, leaving small hickeys and bruises, your lip gloss leaving perfect porno-worthy pink lip marks.

You pull the waistband of his boxers down, his erection came out, hard as it slapped against his stomach and back up. Your eyes widened, not knowing what you should've expected. You could already feel Charles' smirk on you, his ego raising massively.

Ignoring the sudden dampness in your panties, you slap his swollen tip against your tongue, seeing Charles groan, pulling his head back from the sensitivity.

You take him further, and further down your throat, moaning slightly, sending Charles' body into a shuddering euphoria.

"Just like that, I'm close Cherie." He says, eyes closed tightly, pulling your hair tightly.

You deepthroated him, using one hand to pump his hard shaft. Pulling off it, him watching your experienced mouth pleasure him. Your plump lips having connected strings of saliva to his cock, running a thumb over his slit, making him jolt from the sudden touch.

You use one hand to caress his balls, and one hand to twist his shaft his slightly while you suck his overstimulated tip. You could feel his grasp on your hair get tighter, as he groans, spurting out bursts of his cum onto your tongue.

The whole sight was too much for him to handle; your ass in the air, red lingerie, mouth coated in his cum.

"That was.." Charles moans out, breathlessly.

"Definitely a conversation. I'll get us cleaned up." You cut in, finishing his sentence off with dry sarcasm.

You and Charles had established that you were only each others, no one elses. But the catch? It had to be secret.

A/N; LMAOOO that was my first time writing smut, so excuse me if it's bad, promise i'll get better. I'm not sure if I'll do another part or not?

#charles leclerc x you #formula 1 #fanfic #charles leclerc #imagines #ferrari #ferrari f1 #f1 fandom #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc smut #scuderia ferrari #smut #imagine #charles leclerc fluff

[acaplaya-musings]

Voiceplay Visuals: We Don't Talk About Bruno

("You're gonna show/talk about That Moment, right?" Yes of course I will be showing/talking about That Moment; who do you take me for? 😝)

This video was uploaded on the 26th of February, 2022, it features Ashley Diane (in her second full-length collaboration with Voiceplay), and it is of course a cover of the ridiculously-popular song We Don't Talk About Bruno, from the very-popular Disney movie Encanto (which I have seen 2 or 3 times, including in cinemas, but I'm also very familiar with the movie soundtrack, because it's amazing). To cover such a popular song (let alone acapella-style) can be a challenging task, because obviously there'll be a lot of people who'll already know the original song quite well and who will be prepared to make comparisons, but this is Voiceplay we're talking about! They're not called "the theatre kids of acapella" for nothing, and Disney covers is one of the things they do best (and the video currently sits at a very impressive 5.6 million views on Youtube! (EDIT: as of the 13th of March, it's now 5.7 million!))

So of course I have a lot to talk about with this one, so let's get into it!

Layne was in charge of the video, arrangement, and direction for this one, and he and Tony worked together on set design and costuming. Needless to say, Layne and Tony did an amazing job (and yes, this was of course filmed at Pattycake Productions Studio, which Layne and Tony own and run together)

As for the costuming/characters: Cesar is playing Felix (is it perfect casting, or is Cesar just amazing at slipping into basically any role he's given? You decide), Ashley plays triple roles of Pepa, Isabela, and Mirabel, Eli is maybe Agustin (Agustin doesn't have a lead singing part in the song but the outfit is close enough), Layne is Dolores, and Geoff is either Camilo, Bruno, or both (Camilo pretending to be Bruno perhaps, like in the original scene in the movie?)

If we don't count Jingle Bell Rock (where Eli was wearing glasses while dressed as "Sandy Claws", then I'm fairly certain this is the last/most recent time that Eli has actually worn glasses for a Voiceplay video? And perhaps the only time he's worn them since growing out his facial hair.

Also I'm pretty sure I heard from someone that Geoff's "ruana" (google it) is in fact just a regular blanket/piece of fabric draped (possibly secured/pinned) over his shoulders (it's kind of a Look though ngl)

Not even 30 seconds in and I already stumbled upon a way-funnier-than-expected screencap 🤣

*pfft* XD

Basically, Cesar 100% understood the assignment as Felix, totally hammed it up, and it's highly entertaining 😁

(Also I swear Geoff did a very miniscule eyeroll here? Amazing, love him)

"Hey where'd you get that?" 😂

I know I'm not meant to be talking about vocals in these posts (per my own rules), but I have to give a big shoutout to Layne, who freaking killed it with Dolores's solo part, and it's always so lovely to hear him actually getting a vocal part in a song, as amazing as he is at vocal percussion 💜

Cesar continuing to do The Most (affectionate), and also it's kinda sweet how Geoff is looking at Layne here imo <3 (and also it kinda fits with how the characters they're playing, Camilo (probably) and Dolores are siblings!)

"Grappling with prophecies they couldn't understand." "Do you understand?"

(If you're rewatching a Voiceplay video, try shifting your focus to someone other than whoever you typically focus on for a certain part of the song! It will probably be worth it!)

Trust Geoff to get a dark/spooky section of the song! Voiceplay is nothing if not consistent 😝 (well, sometimes, in regards to some things 😂)

"When he calls your name, it all-" "-fades to black"

I was trying to get a good screencap of Cesar and Ashley on the "we! don't! talk about Bruno!" line, but eh, couldn't get a decent one.

(Oh btw obligatory kudos to Eli for lighting design!)

"He told me my fish would die, the next day, DEAD!"

(Great face, Ashley 😂👌)

Also pay attention to Geoff during this line (before it cuts to a closeup of Ashley) - I love his little shoulder shimmy to the more-uptempo beat!)

"He said that all of my hair-"

"-would disappear..."

"Now look at my head!"

(Rip Eli, but there was no way anybody else was singing that line - it was practically made for him! 😆) (Also love Ashley touching his head in comfort/sympathy 😄)

"He told me that the life of my dreams would be promised and someday be miiine"

(Yes yes of course Ashley is very pretty and I love the petals and the slow-mo on her, now CUE!)

"He told me that my power would grow, like the grapes that thrive on the viiiine"

Yep, that still continues to be up there as one of the most bonkers-ridiculous moments in a Voiceplay video ever. 🤣 (Also if it weren't hilarious enough, check out Ashley's Offended(tm) face in the first and second pictures above, and Layne's Extremely Concerned face in the second picture! ("uhh, Geoff. something you wanna tell me, dude?"))

I'm a little fuzzy on specifics, but apparently the idea for this moment came about when Voiceplay was acquiring clothing for everyone, and Ashley's outfit arrived in two different sizes (just in case one might fit better than the other). Turns out one of the copies of the outfit was a perfect fit for Geoff, and one thing led to another, and we ended up with Aspiring Disney Princess Geoff that you see in the images above 😄😋)

(When I said "don't just get you a man who can do both, get yourself a man that can do everything" back in my Frozen 2 Medley post, I meant it!!!)

(Oh and this section really was slowed down in post-production in order to make the petals (and hair flips!) look nice, and so both Ashley and Geoff were having to sing/lip-sync to sped up versions of their vocal lines!)

"Hey sis..."

(I don't know why this is so funny but it just is 😂)

Ashley in glasses for Mirabel's part!

"Seven foot frame, rats along his back!" *(goat scream)*

(Genuinely not even joking about the goat scream actually)

Geoff and Cesar were competing this whole video in terms of who could be the Biggest Ham I swear 😂

I somehow didn't pick up on this till a commenter pointed it out, but Layne copies Geoff's "spooky finger wiggles" movement! It's got Younger Sibling vibes ngl (though Dolores is actually older than Camillo iirc, and I'm an only child anyway so idk)

Ashley and Cesar were both great in this video, really seemed to play off each other quite a bit!

Man, what a video. Amazing to watch, and also a really great to watch other people react to, for multiple reasons! 😁

There's not much for me to say that I haven't already said about Voiceplay before, but I will say that if you liked this one, go watch their Mini for Surface Pressure if you haven't already! It was filmed during the same shoot as this one (same set, same clothes), and uploaded a few days prior. It's only a short video, sure, but it's still very much worth a watch.

#voiceplay #acapella #we don't talk about bruno #geoff castellucci #eli jacobson #layne stein #cesar de la rosa #ashley diane #acaplaya analysis #voiceplay visuals

[journalsouppe]

This is a repost with better images (and the original was posted to my main blog not here)

Uncensored version and close ups below!!

Also apologies for the small and crazy writing, I went insane playing this game and had a lot to say about it LMAO

Stickers are from NoodlesandTeaShop on etsy!!

Rating: 10/10 Played: Su 2022 Port: N. Switch Favorite? Y Replayable: Y Recommended? Y

Comments

my first ace attorney game!!

omg the little anime scenes are so cool

The twist endings/court conclusions are so well made

oh my god I'm in love with Kazuma <3 his theme T-T

each character has such a distinct personality esp from just their animation

I love the [sholmes/iris/ryuu] forhead thing

yeah I'm also in love with Ryuu T-T

the logic and reasoning spectaculars are my favorite thing they're so fun and stupid

Sholmes and Iris are the cutest dad and daughter duo

FIREWORKS? IN THE COURTROOM??

I am so stressed about the Hounds of the Baskerville case O_o

British Ryuu jumpscare

CHUUNOSUKE ON RYUU'S SHOULDER T-T

I like Gina's new job and personality

Ayy Gregsy is back

ohh the great departed soul is both Susato and Kazuma omg

AMNESIA? T^T

Ryuu is scared of everything and I adore it [me too Ryuu]

PLAGUE DOCTOR WANTS TO CUT ME UP??

The wax museum is horrifying wtf

case 8 [2-3] is an all time favorite

HOLY FUCK

[Phonograph sticker] looks just like Barok's

Love goofy Herlock clothes

Case 2-4 specific comments

THE PARALLELS ARE CRAZY

give me your damn sword Kazuma you don't need two of them

KAZUMA'S NEW THEME????

KAZUIMA'S FATHER?

DEAD?

I love how confident, sure, and determined Ryuu is now

bullying Ryu to pay the vendors T-T

is this a fake trial??

Beppo!!!

STOP FLIRTING IN THE MIDDLE OF A TRIAL

Was the will the note sent to Kazuma?

Finishing each others sentences

love [prison warders and a prosecutor, reborn] 10/10 music

Case 2-5 specific comments

FUCK NOT STRONGHART

Kazuma [eye roll]

JIGOKU???

The girls are FIGHTING [kazuma and barok]

IM MIKOTOBA OMG OMG INVESTIGATION

Elementary my dear Mikotoba T^T

TAP DANCING

Was the sword broken from Genshin? NVM LOL [im dumb]

Gregson in the luggage is so fucked

They're all family T-T brother Ryuu

Kazuma's theme is both intimidating but assuring

HOLOGRAM??

THE DANCE????

Iris Van Zieks... IRIS SHOLMES

THE CREDITS, I'm not okay

Game Dev notes

Masterfully done music, esp reinvented themes for change

incredible animations, gives each character so much personality

great story telling - best visual novel for length, story, interest, etc

chronicles has its own achievements - encourages replayability

great pacing and saving - east to pick up and set down

amazing foreshadowing - whole series planned together

incredible balance of comedy and tragedy

takes preexisting stories and tropes and masterfully retells them

Summary:

I'm afraid I won't have enough room to describe how much I love this game. I don't even know where to start :'). This game is a masterpiece of masterpieces. Easily comparable to FMAB in terms of incredible storytelling, foreshadowing, mystery, tragedy, comedy, score, design, you name it. I have never genuinely been so shocked by the surprises in this game, but they were all so well made and fit in the story seamlessly. The tragedy and comedy, the two most important aspects of a story to me, were not only very well balanced, but were used as expert emotional devices throughout the game. The character design is incredible. Small details such as Ryuu's arm brace or Enoch's mechanisms or Iris's dolls add such character and personality even if some of these details aren't plot relevant. Each character has a unique body type, face shape, facial features, etc that it is easy to identify each character without their hair or clothes. The deigns are also so brilliant that it even taught me how to not only draw older people and children, but to be able to distinguish between teenagers and 20-30 year olds in my art (instead of all looking the same age). The animations are beautiful and so ridiculous. I always looked forward to interacting with Herlock and the witnesses. These games also have one of my favorite scores, especially the way they are able to turn established themes on their heads. The music does an amazing job at establishing setting, character, tension, emotion, you name it. Now for the story telling. Holy fucking shit. Holy shit. You don't even realize how important every small is until it hits you in the face. This is a story that will rival my 1st place spot of FMAB [in terms of all media]. It is so beautifully designed and thought over that I can only say the writers at Capcom are true geniuses to make this story. It doesn't hold back any punches but also comforts you. It toys with your emotions and is smth almost evil, but it also gives you hope and confidence and lifts you up so that you can scream to the world. The key to this is Ryuu. He's no avatar like Link but you and him share a strong bond through shared experience. It was an ingenious move to have the first story be Ryuu accused of murder, you learn the hardest way possible how to become a defense attorney of true integrity. His relations to others is this game is incredible too. The betrayal, the longing, the tenderness. Him and Susato have an incredible "sibling" bond to where I truly felt anxious without her. Not to mention Kazuma. A human through and through. Once thought to be the righteous angel, he had later fallen from heaven just to learn the truth of who he and his father really are. Even as the game has ended, I still sit and contemplate on these characters. Although it was the right decision for Kazuma to stay, I am still in pain from their separation. I really wish I could say more but it's also hard to put into words all my feelings with so little space. If I could forget this game just to experience it again, I would. An outstanding work of art. I highly recommend. My new favorite game.

#dgs #video game journal #journalsouppe #bullet journal #ace attorney #journal #tgaa #dai gyakuten saiban #the great ace attorney #the great ace attorney chronicles #ryunosuke naruhodo #kazuma asougi #susato mikotoba #barok van zieks

[rhysdarbinizedarby]

Rhys Darby: Have fun, it keeps you young

I bought this fine piece of dandy in a Vegas thrift store. It's perfect for hosting a Ponsonby quiz night.

Don't be ridiculous, there's no cut-off age to letting loose.

Last week, I hosted a quiz night. I know ... remember when I used to be in movies?

Oh well, it was for my kids' school, so I felt good about it. Besides, I got to wear my sparkling Vegas suit. It's a fine piece of dandy I bought in a thrift store in LA. It's baby blue in colour and bedazzled with diamond-like gems. Perfect for hosting a Ponsonby quiz night.

The school seems to be in pretty good shape. Unfortunately the same can't be said for my kids. I took them away from the country for three months touring the UK and they didn't get ill once, but after being deposited back in their local institutions, they were both as sick as dogs within a week.

Schools and daycares certainly are breeding grounds for viruses. Both my boys were hit with chesty coughs and conjunctivitis.

It's near impossible to deposit eye drops into a two-year-old's eyes. We just held him back and used the surprise technique. That works only once. After that, we simply dropped the the liquid as close to the facial region as possible and then tipped him about until it rolled into the sockets. The poor little guy came into our bedroom at 3AM with one of his eyes glued shut with goo.

"Look, Mummy and Daddy, I'm a pirate!"

Children are amazing. It doesn't matter how they're feeling, their glass is always half full. Half full of chocolate milk with sprinkles on top. I hope I never lose my child-like sensibilities.

Being an adult weighs you down, man. I think it's important for us all to let loose once in a while and do something youthful. That's why I still skateboard to work. It's invigorating to have the wind in your hair as you whizz past the suits holding onto their coffees. Sure, now and then I get pointed at, even laughed at. But hey, I'm used to that.

I often wonder, what is the cut-off age for youthful fun? I see lots of men in their 30s skating on longboards. My right-hand man "Buttons" even bought a special pushing pole so he could grace his way along the paths like a punter in Venice. Was he ridiculed? Of course, but that has nothing to do with his pole.

Source: Rosie Carnahan Darby's IG

I think it comes down to "coolness levels". It's okay for a man in his late 50s to surf the ocean waves because it's rad. But when you see a man in his 40s riding a razor scooter along Ponsonby Rd it just seems a little sad.

I say, "to hell with it".

Ride, skate and surf to your heart's content. If you're still breathing then you should still be having fun. Just choose your activity wisely. On a ridicule scale of 1 to 10, cycling is a 1 but unicycling is a solid 8.5 unless you're wearing a sparkling Vegas suit, in which case it's a 10.

Source: NZ Herald

#rhys darby #article #nz herald

[bardicbeetle]

hello fellow vampire-oc-named-alex-haver! I love your alex, can I hear about your alex? whatever fun or not-so-fun facts you'd like to share :D

Hi Monday!

You can absolutely hear about my Alex, I will gladly ramble about them for almost certainly too long.

Alex Blackwood is more or less, the protagonist of Safe in the Dark, in so much as they were the original protagonist and are going to maintain that status despite the fact that there are now... five POV characters. They've come a hell of a long way since I first started writing them at the bright young age of 14, and are... somehow both more and less traumatized at the same time.

Quick little overview: mid twenties, asexual, agender, dark curly hair that is long not so much in an On Purpose Way but in an "I haven't had a haircut in Many Years" kind of way, one of the few characters whose eye color hasn't changed over the years--they're still a dark stormcloudy grey. Facial features tended to get described as birdlike when they were younger, sharp lines, prominent nose. Has a little mole on the right side of their neck and another one on the underside of their chin on that side.

Some Fun Facts:

Alex has no idea how cooking works, cannot produce more than a piece of butter toast reliably, will somehow burn things even if heat is not involved. (tbh probably a good thing they end up having to live on blood)

Has lost the majority of their southern accent as a result of being so much of the everywhere but it creeps back out the SECOND someone else near them has one. To such a strong degree that even people who know them well go ??????? what was that??????

They are indecisive to a fault, mainly because they are very afraid of making the wrong choice (whether this is the wrong choice for themself, or in relation to someone else, they spend a lot of time planning out the hypothetical consequences of things they will never actually do).

Is probably the most physically active member of the vamp!house by sheer virtue of needing the feeling of Body Moving to make their brain go quiet sometimes. Likes to run, loves sparring with Isaac and the chaos trio once that starts up. Likes the physical outlet to all the thoughts in their head.

Some Not Fun Facts:

Grew up in an extremely fundamentalist household.

Ran away at age 15 and never went back.

Suffers from sleep paralysis and really intense nightmares.

Has a lot of trouble staying present when something brings them into a memory. A smell, a sound, the look some someone's hair, they're prone to spiral into the things connected to it until their surroundings kind of, melt and they're just listening to the sound of something else, someone else, somewhen else. (oh hey the one part of my own trauma brain I gave them)

Witnessed the massacre of three dozen college students and to this day thinks it's their fault purely because their indecision meant they were still a half vampire when Eric came back, prompting him to try and force them to kill.

ANyways.

I love Alex so very very much.

They've been with me for... well over a decade now in some form or another which feels frankly ridiculous but it's so so amazing having gotten to evolve and learn more about them as time has gone by.

@albatris

#the magician cries #character ref ab #questions concerns and or rotten tomatoes #sitd #screaming about sitd #albatris

[bellsofblueficlets]

Rebeginning

It was without question, the most amazing thing he'd ever seen. The room was cylindrical, vastly wide, at least a couple hundred yards, and several hundred yards high, with a single unbroken line of shelves that spiraled around and around the outer wall, all the way up. Several heavy tables were scattered through the room, all laden with thick tomes and stacked shears of paper, rolls of parchment, and a series of knives and lenses and paperweights throughout, as well as glowing weightless orbs of light that just seemed to drift about aimlessly.

They'd needed to enter through a trapdoor in the center of floor, perhaps placed there simply for the sake of this remarkable sight- Though Gyre wasn't sure how even a fraction of the books could be reached. Still, at least it looked impressive-

A heavy thud makes the nightmare bitty yelp, jumping, and tumbling from his perch, only to be caught by a deceptively quick pair of hands, and moved gently to the table. Embarrassed, Gyre straightens himself, trying not to look as sheepish as he feels. "Uh." He clears his throat, swivels his head to look around more, crosses his arms, and nods approvingly. That's what you were supposed to do in situations like this, right? It felt like what you were supposed to do. "I mean, that's- pretty amazing?" Yep, taking it in stride...

A snort from his new biggie is his answer, and a bemused shake of his head. "It's an inefficient pagentry," A general wave of his hand at the walls, "So much wasted space, an inconvenient entrance that requires a pointless detour- and for what? A show of informational wealth? Academic clout? It's a meaningless flexing if wealth and magic is what it is!"

Gyre is a bit taken back by all this, and just looks sort of confused. "Oh. I, thought this was your library."

"Oh, it is," His human assures, "That doesn't mean I can't recognize how ridiculous it is. This entire thing is an egotistical display," A grunt, as he slumps into one of the empty chairs, still looking around, "Designed by a pompous fool, who took too much stock in appearing grand." A shake of his head, "What a waste of effort that could have been spent on such greater things..."

"I... guess?" It looked pretty damn impressive to him, and he's still craning his head back, trying to take it all in. "Do you know who designed it, then?"

"...I did, of course." He chuckles, rapping his knuckles lightly on the thick wood, "Who else? This is my keep after all," Another vague gesture around, "I designed all of it. Every corner, every nook, every grand, pointless display- It was all me."

A sigh, slumping back in his seat- Only to be followed by another chuckle at his bitty's incredulous look. "Come, come now," He chides gently, smoothing his beard absently, before extending his hand, palm up, to the tiny one, "Let an old man acknowledge his foolish youth. I'm the one stuck with it, I have every right to grumble."

"Well... Can't you change it, then?" Gyre points out, rather reasonably he thinks.

"Ah, I could, I could-" A sigh, turning a wistful eye around the room, a tired ice blue. "It really would be such a hassle though. I mean, just think of all the effort, the noise- Rearranging all the books-" A faint smile could be made out beneath his general facial hair, a soft fondness around the edges. For all his grousing, it was clear that he still loved the place. "No, no. I believe I shall leave it. A testimont to the hubris of my youth, if nothing more-"

As far as biggie's went, Rantrum was an odd one, that was for sure. In looks, he was a stocky older fellow, human of course, dressed in clothes that had once born bright colors, but long, long since faded through age, who bore a somewhat bulbous nose, and whose eyebrows seem to have accomplished a life's goal to be the dominating feature on his face, and were second in this only to his very generous beard, both a terrible wiry steel and black mess that were more steel these days than black.

In behavior? He was a good natured, huffy and grumbling enigma, who seemed to enjoy leaving his new nightmare bitty guessing, and always carried the sense of being in a better mood than he professed to being in.

There was something warm about him, tired and gentle, and maybe, if he didn't know Gyre was looking, there was a sadness around his eyes as well. He'd tried to hide it as best he could, in the nearly three days that Gyre had been living in the keep so far, but such a heavy weight was hard to banish completely. The nightmare bitty knew it was too soon to ask though, so he didn't. He'd wait, and maybe eventually Rantrum would tell him. In the meantime-

"Three days, it took you to show me this?" If there was a certain degree of incredulity to his voice, well- Three days. To show him this.

...Not that the rest of the keep was unimpressive, per se, but it was... humble? He supposed? For the most part, at least. Cluttered and lived in, warm, smelling of wood smoke and dried herbs and old books, and inviting a thousand questions, but- This? This was a whole other animal, as Rantrum seemed likely to say.

The mage chorfled, there was really no other way to say it, a sound somewhere between a chuckle, a chortle, a snort and a huff, that brought to mind someone trying very hard not to laugh, because it was undignified, and sounding all the more undignified for the attempt. "My Gyre is a bookworm, I see..."

He reached for what seemed to all appearances a thick, dull ended toothpick, roughly half the length of a pencil, clamped the end of the thing between his teeth. He would now proceed, judging by Gyre's experience with the man thus far, to chew at it absently, sometimes rolling it from one corner of his mouth to the other with his tongue, and altogether not acknowledge what a strange looking practice it was, or explain it.

Nor did he now, and Gyre didn't press it still. He had the feeling he'd find out in time, considering how many of the things he'd seen stashed through the keep so far.

Instead the nightmare bitty huffs, crossing his arms, and regards his new mage with a look of bafflement. He'd met with many mages while he was waiting to find his mage, and none had been like anything like this...

Not that that was exactly a bad thing. Just, unexpected. Then, most of the mages he'd met previously were also far younger.... The magic users didn't tend to wait until this later point in their life to choose to go looking for a familiar.

Of course if anyone asked Rantrum, he'd insist that he had in fact had one before, quite earnestly in fact, and had for the entire time he'd had the beast, but according to anyone and everyone else who had ever met the creature, it had been a housecat, and a rather unremarkable one at that. At least once now he'd heard it described as- At least going by it's usual vacant expression- Possessing all of three braincells, and using none of them.

Either way, despite his insistence otherwise, as far as the rest of the world was concerned? It had been a cat, and only a cat, nothing magical about it.

...Gyre didn't want to call his new mage a liar though, so he wasn't so sure. Not yet, anyway.

"Do you know why I chose you?" Rantrum asked him suddenly, pausing at the paperwork he'd begun rifling through without further note- Until now, anyway.

The nightmare bitty paused. Was this a trick question? It felt like it might be a trick question. As much as anything because he didn't know the answer himself, beyond, "To... be your familiar?" He prompts, waiting dutifully for an answer.

...He hadn't meant to sound so much like he was guessing, dammit. Especially not when it was something that had been made clear every step of the way.

"Ah, ah." The mage held up a pencil- Yes, just an ordinary pencil- Swinging the end of it in slow circle, like he was using the gesture to correct the other, "To be my familiar, and my apprentice."

Gyre stops from where he'd been peeling back a sheaf of paper, curious at the title of the book beneath it, and looks up in disbelief- And, maybe not a small amount of alarm. "I- I don't think that's allowed," He points out, his mouth suddenly dry. Oh, he more than 'didn't think that was allowed,' he knew full well it wasn't, and knew too that it was a point that mage-kind as a whole had very strong feelings about.

Rantrum only grunts, shaking his head. "Yes, well, I'm far beyond the point where I'm able to care," He denies, pulling down one of the books from a nearby pile, and beginning to flip through it, "You have a good soul Gyre, a sharp mind, and after all, an innate connection to magic that I never had."

"...I think that's why it's not allowed." Monster magic was for monsters they would say, bitty magic was for bitties, and mage magic was for mages-

That was to say, for humans. And they tended to press that point rather... severely, at times.

The old mage just shrugs, leaning forward onto his elbows, and largely ignoring the book he was currently looming over. "There are many things we're not supposed to do, regarding magic," He denies, with the blunt certainty of one who'd seen this proven true many times over the course of his lifetime, "I think you'll learn with time Gyre, that very few of them matter."

"...Oh." Oh. Yes, this was all he managed to say, just 'Oh.'

Fantastic, beautiful, well done... He ignored his internal self mockery, just thinking this through for several long seconds, before turning more fully to look up at the mage. "...This isn't a trick?"

Rantrum lifts his eyes, blinks, and notes with an unsettling seriousness, "It would be a poor trick, since I suspect you know where it would end, if it were."

The nightmare bitty can't help the small chill that this sends down his spine. Yeah, he knew. He swallows against the sudden, non existent lump he feels in his throat. This is ridiculous. He shouldn't even be considering this.

Gyre hesitates, swallows, and lifts his head, looking around the room. This was not what he'd signed on for. He... got to stay either way, right?

...Rantrum is watching him. And when he notices that he's noticed, watching, the mage sighs, sitting back in his chair, and getting that look again, that briefly weary, weighted one.

"You must understand, before you agree, what you're getting into," He begins slowly, in what seems to be a carefully rehearsed speech, "You agreed to be my familiar under... Not the most forthright of circumstance. I should have made certain that yiu knew from the beginning what sort of mage i am, but, well-" A shrug, half averting his gaze, "When I said I wanted you, you didn't wait for explanations, you just said yes. Looked aboit ready to bubble over from excitement..."

"...are nightmare bitty not chosen often, to be familiars?" He was definitely changing the subject, or at least delaying it. "I'd be a bit surprised to hear it, honestly. I'd have thought the preconceptions that once plagued discussions concerning your type were far less common these days."

"Eh," Gyre shrugged, climbing onto one of the books, and flopping down onto it. "It wasn't that nightmare bitties were seen as unfavorable familiar, just... not favorable ones." He looks up at his biggie- his mage. "Just about everyone who showed up had a specific bitty type in mind before they got there. Dreams, of course. Baby blues." He leans back, lacing his fingers behind his head to rest on. "Papyrus bitties too. You know, cute and cheerful sorts."

"Others wanted a type more known for 'smart,' like science sans, alphys, or swap undynes." He pauses, before admitting, "Water based mage types usually prefer undynes of one type or another, can't blame them there."

"...If someone did come looking for a nightmare," He sighs, closing his sockets briefly, "Let's just say I wasn't 'nightmare enough' for them."

"Ah. They were looking for a corrupted nightmare, I take it?" There's a curious, gentle sympathy to the way he asks this...

A quiet huff, still subdued. "That, or I wasn't intimidating enough. Wasn't spooky enough, or mischief enough. Which I guess amount to the same thing." A sigh. "One young mage even came looking for an ink bitty. They tried to tell her there weren't any ink familiars available- Technically there weren't, the only one there was on heavy probation after being returned three times, and getting caught painting-" A light clearing of his throat, "Questiobable art, concerning a few of the staff members."

"She found out there was an ink bitty, and decided to wait for him, and despite lots of griping, he was finally given another chance. Everyone was sure he'd be back within a week again- But they made it to their year evaluation, and had a bond strong enough that I think it set a few people back. She's gonna be a fucking awesome mage one day-"

And. Maybe he'd been a little jealous...

"Either way." A shrug. "No. Not really much demand for my type." Or maybe, just not much demand for him...

Then Rantrum had shown up. He was a much older mage than normally came looking to be paired, and one well established, with no previous history of having had a familiar of any kind. Well, again, he'd insisted he had a cat familiar, but the claim wasn't given much credit.

Despite this, and despite arriving without an appointment, he'd had enough clout, reputation, and connection, that the placement group really couldn't afford turning him away without it biting them in the ass, so his repeated insistence to meet the prospective bitties then, and not another day, was eventually accepted with a few resigned sighs.

Yet Rantrum had barely laid eyes on Gyre when he'd clapped his hands together lightly, beamed, and said those words that Gyre knew in his soul he would never forget. "Yes, you! You're just the one I'm looking for, I'm certain of it!"

The confusion he'd felt then, after so many rejections, looking across at this mop of a scruffy older mage who looked so absolutely delighted to see him...

When the staff had tried to protest, to insist on an interview, on protocol, and proper procedure, Gyre had just looked up at them, pointed to Rantrum, and said, without the smallest waver of doubt edging his tone, "Him. He's the one I want."

Maybe he'd imagined the brief surprise in his new mage's eyes, but the man had banished it quickly, beamed, and given them a look of 'well, are you still going to argue it?'

They had not.

That'd been five days ago, one day to gather hus meager things and sign paperwork, one to travel- And the last three? Here. In this... confusing place, with this confusing mage that he already very much thought of as 'his.'

Throughout this, Rantrum had been silent, watching his new familiar with a puckered brow, and a hard to read gaze. He tapped on the table, thoughtfully, rolled his chewing stick to the other side of his mouth, and leaned back in his chair, nodding slowly. And still, he watches Gyre. "I am a mage of binding, my little friend," He admits at last, a weighted significance to the way he said this, "Ours is the magic that can bind souls, or create seals, or barriers. Magic that can protects, heal... and imprison, and we can do all of these in equal measure."

Oh. That... That had probably been an important thing to know before he'd agreed to this, huh? Gyre sits up slowly, watching him. "Like the mages who sealed the monsters underground." Everyone knew the story, and knew in fact that the mages from their own timeline had been enlisted multiple times to do this for other universes as well, if rumors were true-

"Like those, yes," Rantrum agrees, more serious for now, "And if you agree to be my apprentice, that magic is all I can teach you. That which seals, which binds, and which-"

Gyre interrupts, shaking his head, and not letting him go any further. "I- I don't. Think I want to know magic like that." His non existent stomach currently felt like it was somewhere around his feet... Maybe even like he was currently standing on it.

Rantrum goes briefly quiet, pursing his lips around the thing clamped between them, then just nods, drawing it free, and dropping it into a cup. "That's fair," He assures, his voice lacking any of the expected irritation or disappointment, "I won't force you. It's a heavy role, I know that as much as anybody- And more than most, I would say."

Admittedly, the nightmare bitty was a little taken aback that his mage wasn't trying to press it more than this. He just? Said no? And Rantrum accepted it?

Not exactly what he would have expected of a mage of binding... But then, neither was Rantrum, was he?

Come to think of it, what had he expected? It's a question he's honestly never thought to ask before, and asking himself now, he realizes that he doesn't have an answer. It was easy to paint such mages as villains, whether motivated by money, power- fear-

He couldn't see Rantrum doing something like... That. So, maybe he was wrong?

Gyre looks down at his hands, frowning as he runs his thumb lightly across the back of his hand, lingering briefly on every bone. It didn't get much further from a human mage than a skeleton bitty. So why him? "So if I don't want to learn binding magic, you won't teach me any magic?" He wants to make sure he has this right...

Rantrum just shrugs. "That's all I can teach you. It's what I was taught, what I possess the knowledge for, and what I know well enough to one day pass on." A sigh, tapping the table with one finger again, as he adds with soft reluctance, "Even if it's not to you."

Again. Just. Why? There had to be young mages who would be eager to take the role, right? There had to be a catch. Something he wasn't seeing.

Gyre hesitated giving his answer again. Probably visibly. He looked around the room, at the walls of books, at the pretty, floating orbs... At Rantrum. He, wasn't bad? Right? Something this beautiful couldn't have been made by someone bad... could it?

He rubs the back of his neck, thinking this through. Rantrum wasn't bad. He'll... go with that idea anyway. So, that meant the magic wasn't bad either, right? Not innately. Maybe-

Could a mage of binding learn to break bindings too?

"...What do you use it for?" That should probably be his first question, right? That was the important one, after all.

"Ah," A sigh, combing his fingers absently through his beard. "For protections, mostly. Sealing cursed items, dangerous magics..."

"Not people?" Gyre presses, watching him. This was what he needed to know.

Rantrum takes the chew stick from his mouth, clicks his tongue, and turns his gaze up at the walls of books. "Sometimes people." He admits, turning the stick between his fingers. "There are more situations than you may realize, where binding magic is involved."

Gyre's soul sinks. "Oh." Quietly, leaning over his knees. That hadn't been what he wanted to hear.

The mage fixes him with a sympathetic look, sighs, and sets his chew stick aside, and his arms on the table, resting against them. "I know how it sounds," He assures, his tone once more patient, "But such magic is not nearly so straight forward. Let's take for example- I'm certain you're familiar with the concept of soul bonds?"

...What? Oh! Yes! Gyre perks up, looking back to his mage expectantly.

There's a satisfied sound from Rantrum, who nods, straightening again. "Well. There you go. That's not a place where you'd think binding magic could be useful, is it? Yet one of those things I'm able to do with my magic is help strengthen those soul bonds that have become badly damaged, before they can weaken to the point where one or both involved might die."

"Or alternately," He add, with soft significance, and a furrow of those massive brows, "To dissolve those which have become poison, often without harm to either."

Gyre's sockets widen, surprised and more than a bit horrified. "That can happen?" Soul bonds were- They were-!

There's a long, thoughtful look from his mage, and a certain sadness to his eyes, glimpsed briefly, though Rantrum mumbles only, "You're very young, aren't you, Gyre?" As if it's only now that he's realizing this.

The nightmare bitty frowns, straightening up to his full height- Well, the full height he can reach without standing, anyway- And huffs. "I'm two," He points out, looking annoyed, "Almost three. That's well past fully grown for a bitty."

A soft snort, as Rantrum echoes his words, looking bemused. "'Well past. Yes, I suppose. But you'll look back on those words very differently one day, you know. And I'm curious what you'll think then." He drums his fingers against the table, shaking his head. "But that isn't what I mean. Being grown doesn't mean you aren't young, my Gyre. Two years is all but an instant in the span of time you'll one day live."

The retort rising on his tongue dies with those words. 'My Gyre.'

'My Gyre.'

Suddenly he doesn't feel like arguing the point anymore. Those words feel like... Everything.

When has he ever been anyone's before? When had anyone ever made that claim? He was wild born, first generation, an existence shaped by those tidepools of magic that form in the worlds, coalescing until they become something new.

A brand new life, with no parents to welcome him.

A nightmare, brought to existence without his dream.

A familiar in training, waiting to be chosen. Waiting to be wanted. Waiting to finally, finally know where he belonged.

'...My Gyre.'

"Bitties don't always live long lives." It was all he could think to say, a quiet underlying his words that couldn't be put down to volume alone. In theory, since bitties didn't age any further once adult, they could live forever. But in practice? Their lives were often mercilessly brief.

Rantrum lifts his gaze, that unspoken significance not lost on him. "You will."

The certainty in Rantrum's words took Gyre aback. It sounded like a promise. Or maybe something else. He only knew that something in the way he said it offered no room for doubt, and something in the intensity of that clear blue gaze made Gyre realize he believed him.

...Still. "How do you know?"

And like that, the mask of certainty falls away. Or, maybe it wasn't the certainty that was the mask at all. Either way, Rantrum blinks, draws back with a thoughtful expression, as if to consider the question more carefully, then shrugs. "Does it matter?

Gyre just sort of... stares, in disbelief, at this answer. "Yeah," His tone is somehow both flat and exasperated at all once, like he can't believe he even has to answer that. "It does. It matters how you know. Fucking obviously."

A sigh, the mage reaching for his chewing stick again, and falling short, before just leaning back in the chair so far that it threatens to tip under his weight. "That's a shame, then. Because those aren't secrets I can tell just anyone." He gestures carelessly with one hand, "I mean, perhaps an apprentice, certainly. With time. Should they prove they're worthy."

"But that," He levels his gaze at Gyre, pointedly, "Is a great deal of commitment just for the sake of finding an answer you may not like.

Okay. He had a point. "I guess," He huffs, reluctantly.

Still, a long life. That wasn't an assurance many bitties got. Hell, it wasn't an assurance that many anyone got. He weighs this, finally pressing again. "You're, sure?"

"I am." Rantrum nods, looking quite solemn, sage like...

Then he reaches for his chewstick again, misjudges the distance, and knocks it to the ground with a small clatter as it rolls under the table. The mage stares for a moment at the spot where it disappeared, muttering, "Well. Fuck."

Oh, yes. Greatly sage like. Gyre can't quite suppress the sound of amusement, and his mage eyes him in a much put upon way, before sighing, and- simply drawing out another, ignoring the one now clearly lost forever.

Admittedly, it's hard to see him as some great terrifying freedom stealing soul binding mage when he seems so... him. Gyre wonders for the first time though, if that isn't kind of the point. The nightmare bitty climbs back off the book, grimacing at the sheer amount of dust he'd picked up, now covering his clothes and hands. How had he managed not to notice that?

...Right. Distractions.

Gyre tries absently to brush some of the dust off himself, as Rantrum pretends not to be waiting on his answer. Still though, he hesitates. "Do you know if I'll agree to being your apprentice?" He asks at last, determined to learn at least a little more before deciding.

"Eh, Perhaps." Rantrum hums, in that same deliberately evasive way that he'd asked Gyre if it mattered how he knew that he'd live a long life. "But it doesn't matter."

This time, Gyre just watches him flatly, waiting for the rest of it, and eventually the mage nods, sighing, but giving in to the nightmare bitty's demands. "Very well then, I'll explain what I can."

"You see, the nature of the magics I know are ones which are driven and shaped by two very powerful opposing forces- Fate, and choice. The first of course, often being nothing without the second."

"Uh huh." He's taking all of this with a grain of salt, definitely. "So... its only fate if i choose it?"

"Essentially, yes."

Gyre huffs, not bothering to hide his disappointment. "That's not fate then." He mutters. At least it gave him his answer, but... admittedly, he'd been hoping for a different one.

He should've known better.

"Hm. Isn't it." The mage muses aloud, as though weighing this possibility for the very first time. Somehow. For a moment, he just sort of stares at nothing, then shakes pushing himself to a feet with a grunt. "Very well, if you're certain. Come along then," He offers his hand, palm up, along with a small smile for his new bitty, "There's still more to see, and you still need proper quarters. I believe I know a place you'd like though."

That was it? Gyre hesitates, giving him a long, uncertain look, before finally nodding, wordlessly, and climbing onto his hand. The mage helps settle him onto his own rather wide shoulder, and the nightmare bitty settles himself, taking hold of the man's high collar, ready to move on as his mage once again approaches the curious trapdoor, tugs it open with a small grunt, and begins his descent down the odd, old ladder beneath. It was short, not much more than his own height, just enough to let him reach a stairwell that spiraled down, seeming to exist for no other purpose but this.

The whole keep thus far had been like this, if maybe not quite to this extreme. Winding, seemingly aimless, and almost impossible to navigate if you didn't already know where you were going... Which of course, was why it wasn't aimless at all.

Rantrum heads down the stairs, with torches blooming to life as the mage approachs, and just as quickly flickering out again once he'd passed.

Gyre already knew where the stairwell led, but still watched, taking note here and there of little things in his surroundings. Not that there was much to see, admittedly. It was honesgly a bit strange, how heavily ornamented and extravagant some rooms were, while others-

-like the kitchen they descend into, emerging from the pantry of all places, is almost overly dull, and had clearly gone unused for a very long time. Much of it had even fallen into disrepair...

He didn't know why he couldn't dismiss it, but the words echoed in his thoughts, refusing to be ignored. 'Isn't it.' He tightens his grip on the mage's collar, paying increasingly less attention to his surroundings, and more and more to that... absolute non answer.

"It can't be," Gyre denies, the words abruptly cutting through the silence. "Fate, I mean. Fate is something that people have no power to change. That's what makes it Fate." His frustration might be showing through in his tone, just a little.

If Rantrum is surprised by the outburst, he doesn't show it, though his answer does sound semi amused. "Said that way, you make fate sound a bit like a binding."

This takes the nightmare bitty back a bit, and Gyre pauses, frowning as he reflects on them. A binding. That actually sort of made sense. Sort of. "So is that what fate is, then? A binding?"

The mage starts to answer, then pauses, seeming to think better of it. At last, answering only with a quiet, "Perhaps," still continuing on through more corridors. He's in no apparent hurry, despite seeming to have a clear destination in mind.

"And the magic you know is one of bindings." Gyre clarifies, this time pressing the point.

"Yes. Yes, It is." The mage agrees, "There are many aspects to such magics of course, but that is what it comes down to, in the end. Binding."

"Making them... and breaking them?"

Rantrum seems to have reached his destination. Or at least a door. Either way, he stops to retrieve a key ring from his belt, flipping through them absently until he finds the right one. Only then does he answer. "Yes. And yes." He fits the key, turning it with a solid click, "After all, only a fool practices magic they're unable to undo. Can you imagine the utter catastrophe that would be? If every seal, bond, or barrier, cast however poorly or frivolously, were simply permanent?"

A huff, and a mutter, more under his breath, as he swings the door open. "Even more people would be after our heads than there already are."

Definitely taking note of that last bit, then...

Once they've stepped through the doorway, Gyre is caught off guard to find himself not in a room, but on a balcony. A surprisingly high balcony, in fact, considering he'd assumed they were at least close to ground level. The past few days, and the keep's various twists and turns, must have thrown him off even more than he'd realized.

He wondered absently how long it would take before he started being able to find his way around on his own...

The balcony is rather small, leaving not much room. Aside from a railing- and some wax drippings left here and there on said railing, despite the noteable lack of candles- there was really only room for the mage himself, and not much else.

Like the balcony itself, the view was... lacking. Lacking is the word he'd use. Of course the haze didn't help much, obscuring all but the outlines of... Whatever was down there.

But. It was down there all right. Waaaay down there.

He scoots back as Rantrum leans against the balcony, despite it seeming solid. If the mage notices, he doesn't say anything. For a long time, both are silent, watching as the sky slowly lightens to a hazy gold, and slowly begins to burn away some of the mist below, revealing... swamp, mostly. Boggy, wet, and weedy.

He's not sure if he's disappointed, but it's not exactly the reveal he was expecting.

...Actually, he's not sure he even knows what he's expecting anymore.

He watches the sun continue to rise for a while, until all but that very last of the fog is burned away, until every bit of the dreary, swampy bog that stretched out both below and before was more or less revealed, before noting with a faintly wry humor, "That's a lousy view."

A soft snort, humor maybe. "Yes. Yes it is." A hrumph follows this, his oversized brows knitting slightly as he mulls over his next words.

"You don't need to be my apprentice," He says at last, his words decided, "You needn't even be my familiar if you've changed your mind. You are welcome to stay, but remarkable as it may seem, I will not bind you to it, or any fate you do not chose."

"Someone like me knows the cost of binding a soul," He adds with a sigh, an unspoken weight to the words as he gazes out at the lackluster view before them, "Believe me."

Gyre too, turns this over in his mind. It could easily be assumed that he didn't see the warning signs, directly in front of him, the way he didn't immediately dismiss the suggestion of 'apprenticeship.' But no, he saw. Rantrum carried a weight that his initial manner has disguised, and it was at least suggested to Gyre that this was a risk of the magic he weilded- The magic he was offering to teach. At the same time, what Rantrum seemed to be suggesting...

"Does, that mean you can change Fate?" The nightmare asks slowly, still carefully gauging the mage's responses.

"Perhaps," The mage grunts softly, combing his fingers slowly through his wiry beard. Clarifying, after a moment more, "Sometimes."

Right. "Okay," Gyre presses again, "When?"

If he could have seen the mage's expression, he might have seen a twitch of amusement at the corner of Rantrum's smile. "When it's choice that decides it, of course."

Gyre looks out over the swamp, turning this over in his mind. What was choice? What was the illusion of choice?

"What will I choose?" He asks finally.

Rantrum grunts, as ever all but impossible to read. "You haven't decided yet."

Right. Of course. Maybe he'd understand it better going forward? Maybe he wouldn't. But he has a lot to think about. "Do I have time to decide?" ...a lot, to think about.

Rantrum slowly straightens from where he leans against the railing, regarding the bitty on his shoulder with a raised brow. "It's not as though I intend to revoke the offer- Not without very good reason, at least." He takes the chewing stick from his teeth, and flicks it into empty space with a grunt. "This is your home now."

It seems to fall forever, before vanishing from sight, and Gyre spends a few seconds watching it. "Even if I refuse?" He asks, quietly.

"Yes," There's a softness to Rantrum's words now, as he offers soft pets, stroking Gyre's cheek with one crooked finger, "Of course. You are welcome here. Whether as my friend, my familiar, or my apprentice, that much remains true."

As Gyre leans into the pets, closing his eyes as he enjoys the simple pleasure, he misses the small sadness, touching his mage's gaze. "This is my home, my little nightmare. And I promise you, in my home, wherever it may be? You will always be welcome."

----

His head hurt. He couldn't remember why, but the world was filled with the sounds of things breaking, shouts, and what might just be explosions. What's more, he seemed caught, his small body pressed beneath a leathery something, slick and strange sticky, which somehow cushioned his body beneath as well.

Despite the fact that the weight made it harder to breathe, Gyre made no attempt yet to free himself. It was a small place after all, a hiding place, and that was a good place for such a small creature to be when the world was falling down around them.

Them. He blinks, his thoughts suddenly on his mage. Rantrum could take care of this, right? He could-

Gyre wasn't sure. The mage was strong, but his wasn't combat magic, and he wasn't young. Time had taken its toll on the human, as it always did.

Realizing he can't wait to find out, he begins trying to squirm loose of whatever it is that's pinned him, determined to find his mage. His friend. Squirming, twisting, despite the stabbing pain in his head, he manages to twist onto his back, curl his knees to his chest.

With every ounce of strength he has, he uses his legs to lift the strange, soft weight off him...

He's certain he feels something splinter, as the pain in his head suddenly grows sharper, the world tilting and spinnung madly for an instant. It tries to go black again, but thoughts of his friend out there, sonewhere-

There's shouting, he realizes belatedly. Has been this whole time. Is it help? Attackers?

He doesn't know, but he remains silent as he works his way free, slowly but surely. Just in case.

Finally he squirms free of what had held him, and as he tries to push to his feet, his world tilts again, dangerously, sending him toppling. He's horribly aware of his head impacting something and that horrible splintering again, this time accompanied by the feel of something giving way, and the taste of dust on his tongue.

The world goes dark. Maybe for a minute, maybe for ten. It's hard to say. It's long enough for the shouts to move away. Even as he struggles back to consciousness, he listens. Or tries. The world is strange, distant. Echoed.

It's a herculean effort to open just one socket, but for the life of him, he can't open the other. How he manages to push himself to his feet he wouldn't later be able to say, but he does, standing there, wobbling unsteadily. He tries to take a step forward-

Somewhat predictably, he falls, but this time manages to catch himself, if painfully. His head hurts. His body hurts. And something inside him, something inside him feels like it's been clawed away, leaving a raw, aching wound. He pushes himself to his feet again, somehow, and even manages a small few steps before finding something in his path to lean against.

Coughing. How long has he been coughing? He can't tell where he is. What is he leaning against... A book? Is he in the library?

His only intention, as he turns again, is to try and see where he was. To get his bearings, so he has a better idea what to do next. So he can find his way to his mage, to Rantrum-

He doesn't need to. The nightmare bitty stares in horrified recognition at the mass that had pinned him, only moments before. Bits of cloth. Bristly eyesbrows. So much blood. Rantrum...

Still. Unmoving.

Rantrum had looked so tired today. So tired. Managing a small, sad smile now and then, but nothing more. He'd been so quiet, too. He got that way sometimes, rarely, but he did. Petting Gyre had always helped, before, so the nightmare bitty made certain to make himself available for this.

Today, if anything, it had only seemed to make the pain in his eyes run deeper, though he'd reached out each time, accepting his apprentice's wordless requests.

The last few instants, before the noise, before the chaos, suddenly reply through his mind with horrible clarity. There'd been a sound from outside. Visitors were unusual, so Gyre had turned in surprise to listen. He'd started to turn back, to ask Rantrum if he was expecting anyone, when the world had exploded in violence against sound.

Gyre remembered his mage's hands, closing about him without a word. Remembered a sense of falling, and impact...

And now Rantrum was dead, a piece of one of his shelves lying atop his still form. His wonderful, beautiful shelves that reached so high, had broken, and crushed him.

He'd scooped Gyre up as it started to fall, and protected him with his own body. It had been the last thing he'd done.

Gyre stares, that ache in his chest growing steadily worse, until it was pure agony. There was a bond, between mage and familiar, that ran deeper than magic, that ran soul deep in truth...

Nothing, nothing he'd ever known could have prepared him for the pain of that bond being broken. He would later vaguely remember stumbling forward, falling against his mage, and sobbing. He would remember the pain in his head growing worse, but in a way that felt like something that didn't matter anymore.

The world fell apart around him, and smoke grew slowly thicker in the air, and it didn't matter. Nothing mattered.

His mage was dead...

Just. Let him die with him...

----

[ironhoshi]

My favorite thing is Agent Kallus trimming his facial hair/sideburns to fit perfectly within his silly helmet.

#star wars #star wars rebels #agent kallus #his facial hair is both amazing and ridiculous #how long does it take him to groom in the morning #alexsandr kallus

[finelinevogue]

ok but moustache harry eating you out though

hell-fucking-o ;);)

Harry with his moustache was your weakness.

To some he looked like a truck driver, to others he looked like a dilf and to you he just looked like the fucking hottest man to exist.

You loved how unkept his moustache was, but how he designated a portion of his daily routine especially for cleaning it and making sure it was food and grease free. The moustache evolved into a beard too, so his lower face was entirely covered with bristly hair that even he found itchy sometimes. But it was a sight for sore eyes. Your insides yearned for him at every ticking moment of the day, when he sported his moustache.

Unfortunately, it now had to go. Harry is soon to be working on a Gucci perfume advert and therefore the facial hair needs to disappear. As much as you loved the facial hair, Mr Gucci did not. He liked his models clean shaven and exposed, whereas you liked your man rugged and rough. You were sad to see the moustache go, because you loved it so much, but you couldn’t quite be sad in this moment for it when all you could feel was it brush against your clit as Harry ate you out deep.

Harry had told you he was going to shave it now, but before he could get anywhere you had jumped him and ordered him to put it to use one final time. Who was he to say no to that?

“Harry fuck!” You screamed out, your toes curling beneath you as Harry continued to flick his tongue over your folds at a fast pace.

The room was ridiculously hot, both your bodies sweating in a tangled mess. Harry pressed your body firmly down, whilst he situated your legs around his head - trapping him to the spot he desired so much. He kept your hips pressed down with one arm and the other was being used to pump his fingers, unforgivingly, into you. You weren’t able to focus on anything apart from the fact you couldn’t focus on anything. From Harry’s mouth and fingers to his words and yours, sent you higher than cloud 9. You were high on euphoria and didn’t want to come down anytime soon.

Your fingers tugged against Harry’s curls which made him moan and send vibrations all over your cunt and through your heat. The sounds that filled the room were unholy and wet. His tongue persistently lapped at your folds, using his fingers to reach the spots inside of you his tongue couldn’t reach. His tongue felt so good and his fingers even better.

But goddamn that moustache.

All you could feel was the tickle of prickly hair rubbing against your oh so sensitive clit and brushed it as he moved his face. His movements were so wild and quick that each time he moved let you feel his moustache. Each time he moved a different direction your cunt caught against the hairs and dragged against your skin, causing you to moan out in pleasure. Harry knew exactly what he was doing. He was filthy and you absolutely loved it.

His fingers pumped harder, curling to reach your favourite and most receptive spots and his tongue moved faster as you began to reach your high. It didn’t take much for him, with the moustache, to bring you to your release and Harry prided himself off of that fact. He loved when his moustache got coated in your juices and he could taste it hours later, where he hadn’t quite cleaned himself properly. It was tormenting in a way though, because one taste of you had him on his knees begging for more - he wouldn’t even care if you were beyond spent.

He pulled away to look up at you and you felt his hot breathe fan against your even hotter cunt. Your breathing was hard and only increased when you saw the state of Harry. He looked so primal and lustful. He was a different man right now - one full of dominance and sexual frustration. He kept straight eye contact with you as his moustache glistened with a coating of you. His eyes remained locked to yours as he ran his tongue over his lips and upper moustache hairs, tasting you without being face deep in you. You groaned at the sight, before deciding you wanted in on the action too.

Leaning up and forwards you smashed your lips on to Harrys, moaning as you rested yourself along with him. It was divine. A fulfilling pleasure that was so small and yet so intimate. His bristly hairs tickled your upper lips and you hummed at the sensual sensation. He pulled away when he realised you were enjoying this too much, not wanting to distract himself, or you, from giving you the release you so deserved.

“Can have my lips after i’ve devoured you, baby.” He kissed your lips once more and then pushed you back down and reattached himself to your soaking pussy. You cried out at the contact, not believing you ever thought you’d be able to go without the feeling. Nothing would ever compare to this. To him.

“Harry!” You moaned his name in pleasure and returned your hands to his hair, pushing him further into you.

His tongue moved inside of your folds in angles you never knew existed, making your toes curl and your tummy flutter with excitement. You felt your release so close. His fingers entered - one, two, three - and found the right pace to have you completely defenceless below him. You were his to toy and play with, that much Harry knew. Like this you were a surrendered body to him, allowing him to tease and pleasure you how he’d like to - with the trust that you’d stop him if he went too far.

“You gonna come for me baby angel?” He rhetorically asked, knowing you were only a few more pumps away from your release.

“Yes, yes just for you.” You gasped as he quickened the pace of his fingers and designated his attention to your pulsing clit.

“Come on then. I won’t tell you twice.” The way the hairs of his moustache moved from his words against your clit sent you over the edge.

The fucking moustache.

You arched your back and screamed out as he kept pumping his fingers through your release. You grasped onto your breast, needing something to release your frustration into. God you felt unholy and dirty. You felt fucking amazing. Your breathing was laboured and Harry spent the rest of your high lapping your folds and around your cunt, drinking up every last drop of your release. He couldn’t get enough of you. He would never.

“Can you kiss me now?” You quietly asked and you felt his presence suddenly hover above you, his moustache absolutely covered with your juices. He wore them with pride. He raised his eyebrows at you, hovering just above your lips. “Please?” You stressed and who was Harry to deny that pouting face of yours. Who was he to deny you his moustache?

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfiction #finelinevogue #finelinevogue harry styles #harry blurb #harry oneshot #harry styles concept #ask finelinevogue #ask harry styles #anon response #anon #harry styles smut #harry styles moustache #moustacherry #harry styles moustache smut #finelinevogue blurbs #finelinevogue masterlist

[apparentlyaswarmofbees]

EVEN MORE Small Things to Imagine With The Brothers and Undatables

.

Because I got in a good mood after listening to 'My Narrow Road' from Ito Kashitaro. I recomend! it’s good!

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Lucifer

The way he squints challengely at you when you spot a single paper plane on the corner of his office that looks suspisciously like a document.

The ultimate betrayal as he nudges the back of your knees with his own consequently making you almost lose balance.

The concentrated furrow of his brows upon his closed eyes as he tests the sounds of an old violin, big eyelashes slowly fluttering open as he gives a satisfied smile.

Present him a plushie and enjoy the sight as he takes a final look at his documents and any lost messages before going to bed, all the while keeping said plushie confortably sitting on his leg, his fingers absentmindely rubbing the soft texture every once in a while

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Mammon

The casualness as you fix each other's clothes and accessories, your hands unwrinkling his collar, his fiddling with your own. Expect to have any long sleeves you wear suddenly be folded up whenever you guys sit near each other.

The teasing peek of skin from his belly and hips as his shirt rolls up just enough when he stretches his arms up with a very long, and slightly exagerated, yawn.

Having him laying on his arms on your middle, the adorable scrunch of his face, rubbing it on his arms as he tries to wipe off the growing smile on his lips when you give his nose an affectionate and gentle pinch.

Peeking from behind a tree and having him chase you around in circles until either of you decide to just to grab onto the other forcefully.

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Leviathan

Tying his bangs in a cute little ponytail on the top of his head and watching as he refuses to undo it with pride for the entire day if the tie used was Ruri-Chan themed.

Making voices with him in front of a fan on a hot day, and watching as he starts to make more and more different voices and references the more confortable he gets.

Watching as Henry follows his owner's movements as he wanders back and forth in front of the big aquarium in a rant.

Hugging him close and playing with his hair as he burries his entire face on your shoulder and squeezing you closer with his arms each passing minute until he finally relaxes.

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Satan

Challenging each other to read the most ridiculous crack fics in the most dramatic poet voice manageable and watching as he struggles to keep his composure.

The ridiculously serious and concentrated frown on his face as he tries to make a perfect ketchup cat on the top of an omelette and the ridiculously cute proud smirk on his lips as his eyes shine brightly at his successfull creation.

Talking to him about a show he has already watched and the undoubtedly excited fidgeding of his body as he struggles both to not spoil you of anything and to not give you omnious comments about what you should expect next.

Alternativelly, his coninuous gaze as he tries to read into every single detail on your facial expressions in a curious attempt to see if it gives out what he should expect to happen next on a show you have watched and recomended to him.

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Asmodeus

The sight of him humming along to a tune with an absentminded smile as he paints his toe nails. There are clips in his hair to keep his bangs away from his eyes, toe separators on his feet and definetelly a few stains on his hands.

The way he looks in your direction with a wrigling brow as he flips his scarf dramatically over his shoulder in front of a store's one sided mirror.

Sharing a candied apple and watching as he smiles, small pieces of candy still stuck on and off his lips, giddy at both the idea of sharing it with you and the sweet taste of the lovely treat.

The happy twirl he gives as he shows off to you the new outfit he bought, clapping excitedly after having you do the same to him, possibly with the help of his own hand, spinning you smoothly almost like in a dance.

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Beelzebub

Kissing the very tip of his nose and watching as the corners of his mouth squishes his reddening cheeks as he smiles so hard to the point he may not even be able to keep his eyes open anymore.

The almost bratty but adorable pout he gives when you deny him a sample of the still in process of making food before he proceeds to basically glue himself to your back, his head resting on your shoulders or head, expectant eyes watching as you move.

The sight of his hunk figure crouching down in front of a flower bed, his careful fingers giving the flowers a series soft and gentle nudges and touches, his face devoid of expression as he pays attention to every single detail. He nods, his face now carrying a satisfied smile. They were healthy.

Having him gladly and happily bend his head down to your height as you reach your hands into his hair, giving him a well deserved head pat.

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Belphegor

Hanging up a blanket on top of a very throughly organized nest of pillows and stuffed animals in the dark, snuggling to him shoulder to shoulder, a flashlight in one hand, Grimm Fairy Tales on the other.

Watching as he succumbs himself to the rule of kittens as he lays down on the floor, giving a free pass for the small felines to climb and snuggle into his face, neck and body all they wanted.

Whispering ridiculous things right into each other's ears in an attempt to make the other laugh out loud in the worst places and situations.

Curling with him under a big blanket on a cold day, each with their own mug of hot chocolate. The adorable sight of a very obvious cream moustache that has made it's place on the sleepy demon's face.

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Solomon

Taking Use of the closeness of your boddies while cuddling as an opportunity to tickle the hell out of him and watching as he struggles to decide if he should focus on getting out of your betraying hold or if he should keep on blocking your wriggling hands that keep reaching for his most sensitive spots.

Going on a small trip to the human world and somehow ending the day laughing your hearts out as you ride a two seats bike, that came equipped with two very nostalgic bells, together.

Sitting together with your backs touching, the immortal sorcerer closing his eyes, you being able to feel his every breath as he inhales and exhales, his body relaxing and melting into your presence alone.

Taking part of his shenanigans in the kitchen, feeding each other surprisingly edible samples, a happy smile never once leaving his face.

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Simeon

Having your feet on top of his or his on top of yours as you both give in an attempt at slow dancing, his chuckles reverberating between your touching bodies, the vibrations leaving behind a small and giddy tingle on your skin.

Having him sit on the floor in front of you, your fingers combing through his dark hair and his body becoming more and more slouched as you attempt to style the silky strands into a braid.

Hands linked in the air for balance as each of you walk alongside an abandoned rail trail together, both of you aware, almost sheepishly, of how cheesy said action in fact was.

Sitting side by side on top of a tree branch, his fingers softly holding onto yours as both of you gaze into the distance, a gentle breeze swaying your clothes as the two of you enjoy a moment of confortable silence.

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Diavolo

Teaching him various types dances and styles, his beautiful laugh echoing through the walls as he both succeeds and fumbles in his gestures, bright eyes attently paying attention and mimicking your every movement.

Going to the carnival together, watching as the prince of hell almost bounces on his feet from attraction to attraction, all the while while wearing a cute animal eared headband he completelly refused to take off until he stepped inside his own castle.

Introducing him to the human world "magicians", his face morphing through a chain of expressions as he watches in wonderous amazement tricks ranging from simple card tricks to making things desappear, reapear and multiply.

Kissing each other all over the face, little smoochy noises getting mixed with a fit of giggles as both of you were set on not leaving a single patch of skin unkissed, even thought the two of you were now smiling too hard to even do it properly.

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Barbatos

Introducing him to fruit carving and watching as it slowly becomes like a new hobby for him. The buttler's posture and face turning into something almost fondly relaxed as he skillfully turns various types of fruits into beautiful shapes of objects, animals and flowers.

Giving each other an almost smirk like smile as you Link your arms together, the two of you bringing your respective glasses to your lips before drinking from the liquid at the same time.

Convincing him to try out scented candles, watching as he judges each option throughly, his expressions going through slight, almost unseen changes as he closes his eyes momentarily so he focuses solely on his senses of smell.

Gloved protective hands craddling your head onto his shoulder and firmly holding onto your back, the flicker of an almost sorrowfull expression threatening to break through his usual deadpan demanor gone unseen as he, strangely, hopes for his presence to be of enough confort.

#my heart was beating so fast all throughout the entire process of writting this #obey me! #obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me scenarios #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me solomon #obey me simeon #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos

[neobenihime]

THE BLEACHPRINT

basically, a ray of enlightenment hit me after numerous realizations that are obvious to everyone to make this side-by-side comparisons of bleach characters and characters that i think are inspired by them in modern animanga

disclaimer: in no way or shape am I bashing the creators, i am just amazed about how much impact has bleach and these are just fun observations; also, i happen to love all the animangas i am going to mention

SHUNSUI KYORAKU and JIKKA YAMADA ASAEMON (Hell's Paradise: Jigokuraku)

similar in appearance - long hair, facial hair, masculine visual traits

laid back personality, easy going, they prefer not to step in action until they are needed (Kyoraku actually prefers not to reveal the full extent of his abilities until TYBW)

prodigies - Kyoraku is remarked by the First Commander for his talent since the academy days and Jikka has a special intuition to percieve the principle of things

both possess enormous strength and fighting prowess

URAHARA KISUKE and GOJO SATORU (Jujutsu Kaisen)

first of all, they are ridiculously hot teachers

have experienced the narrow-minded, prejudiced principles and presumptuous wrongdoings of the higher-ups ( central 46 and the jujutsu veteran sorcerers and clans) and are determined to change their society in unconventional ways ( the 12th dept and gojo's education style)

also, unconventional ways of training their disciples

they appear at the right place and right moment (ex. Urahara with the visoreds and Gojo with the first appearece of Sukuna)

they like to put a cheerful, often percieved as immature behaviour but can be ruthless when fighting

moreover, both like to cover their eyes ( for gojo is more of a necessity but you get it)

+++ the barrier incidents that are intended to block only them since the enemy percieves them as a major threat

LISA YADOMARU and MAKI ZENIN ( Jujutsu Kaisen)

mostly character design

extremly cool and gorgeous women with swords

note: gege akutami said it is an homage; also itadori's demon/ sukuna is inspired by ichigo's white hollow

also demon slayer's swords are similar with the zanpakutos in terms of changing their appearence (and skills) according to the wielder - gotuge also mentioned this in an interview

if i remember more, i'll add!

#bleach #tite kubo #bleach anime #bleach manga #bleach kyoraku #shunsui kyoraku #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #gojo #urahara kisuke #kisuke urahara #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jigokuraku #hell’s paradise #manga #anime #animanga #jikka #jikka yamada asaemon #yamada asaemon jikka

[soramel]

Sapiens (One-shot)

Yoongi x reader

Men are monkeys, babies are puppies, you were set on living as a cool aunt who'd only appear on reunions bearing the coolest gifts. That is until Yoongi made you think otherwise.

Genre: Fluff, talks about marriage, Idol!Yoongi

Word count: 5.3k

----

"I don't wanna get married," you answered firmly without looking at the man who asked. Yoongi knocked on your door at 1 in the morning to hangout. You were on your bed reading a book while he's fiddling on his phone on your couch. Your extra pillow and comforter laid out on the side.

"Why not? You have a job and you live on your own," he asked further, watching you as your eyes read the sentences at the bottom page line by line.

You flipped to the next page and replied, "I can't even look after myself. Add another one in the picture then more in the future... nuh-uh."

"I think it's the opposite. You'll have someone to look after you, cutting that work in half. As for the children, they would be amazing and you'd be a cool mom."

You scrunched your forehead as you tried to concentrate on the sentence you're reading. Something about how humans are social beings and how the same behavior can be observed in chimpanzees.

"I don't wanna share my bed and I like to fart in peace. As for children, even one, would cost me millions. I already spend 5% of my salary on laser treatments, a fortune on my gym membership and diet, I also pay for my parents' vacation. How about my spa days, facials, therapy, shopping spree? What I mean is, I love living this way and I don't want gremlins sucking out all my hard work. I did that to my parents. I'd hate to have another me," you finished, shutting the book as your concentration's diverted to Yoongi's entertainment talk at 1 am.

"Your reasons are ridiculous."

"Because marriage is."

"And money shouldn't be an issue here."

"For a superstar like you, it isn't," you countered.

"It's not. I don't understand why you're against it."

You sighed and placed the book on the bedside table. "Yoongi, I know it's your 1 am thoughts speaking. I can list down reasons from overpopulation to climate change, from recession to farting in peace, from debating where to spend a holiday to letting myself go to bed without washing up. Can we just drop this? Okay marriage is wonderful, for you. For me, it's not. We agree to disagree. I'm sleepy, okay?"

“You just want to continue your disgusting way of life,” he attacked.

“I do. I’m not giving it up.”

Yoongi looked dejected, but you failed to notice that as you turn off your bedside lamp. He huffed and tucked under the covers before reaching for the lamp beside the couch.

During your first few months in Seoul, you were introduced to him by a mutual friend and when that friend learned that Yoongi was looking for a conversation partner, you were set up with him. You became friends eventually as you both learned that aside from the language, you vibed along each other. A year passed by and you still kept in touch. However, he only got busier and busier. Yoongi would show up at your place early in the morning like this and would have breakfast with you after. Your friendship with him is different in a sense that while you go out for dinners and night outs with your other friends and officemates, time with Yoongi would be watching tv together and having breakfast. He would call sometimes for you to join him in a road trip and you would spend an entire day on the road, eating ramen at rest stops. While you go to karaoke with people, you would be singing to the radio in his car. Despite all that, you like it. He's nice, funny, and sometimes scary, but nothing that you couldn't handle.

And that's his thing.

Aside from his members, you were the only one who could handle him.

------

It was already 2 in the morning when you arrived in your building. Your clothes a bit disheveled but still decent, your hair waved down from a bun due to a hair tie you lost somewhere in one of the clubs you hopped in with your friends. You were smiling to yourself when you were stopped on your tracks at the sight of someone standing opposite the door of your apartment, all clothed in black, the hoodie hiding the face.

You sighed in relief when the man looked up and you recognized Yoongi. "You scared me," you told him, your hand clutching your chest.

"Just open the door. I've been waiting for 30 minutes," he muttered under his breath.

You silently went to your door while he kicked himself off against the wall, walking behind you. You slowly typed on the keypad.

"Remember the passcode so you won't have to wait outside next time," you said, turning the knob and swinging the door open.

The light flickered on at the movement. Your eyes immediately caught the half-eaten toast on the table, the avocado browning on top, unrecognizable, if you didn’t remember the breakfast you had this morning. Your clothes and towels were sprawled on the floor and the dining seat.

You swept through the mess while Yoongi turned all the lights of your studio apartment on.

“I was in a hurry this morning, I forgot to clean,” you excused, throwing the clothes on the hamper, flinging the towel on your shoulder, and grabbing the plate to the sink.

You paused at the sight of empty bowls and utensils, all left unwashed. You placed the plate on the counter and headed for the hamper, dumping the towel there.

You found Yoongi, his back on you, and heard a stream of water rush through. You ran to him in a stride, holding his hands. “I’ll do it! Just sit on the couch, I’ll be quick,” you insisted, grabbing the gloves and stopping him from washing the dishes.

He didn’t insist and walked away. After a beat, you heard the air sweeping in the apartment as he opened the window. He wagged your sheets off.

“When was the last time you cleaned?”

“I just changed those last week!”

“Yeah, but your place feels stuffed.”

After a while, you heard your vacuum in a silent whir. You twirled around, seeing Yoongi vacuuming the floor.

“Yoongi. I’ll do it. Just sit,” you complained, feeling a bit embarrassed at the situation he found you. He didn’t reply and just continued cleaning.

“I have a busy week. I’m supposed to clean on Saturday—”

“It’s already Saturday,”

“You know what I mean.”

“You have a small space. You can clean this in 10 minutes.”

“I know. I was just really busy.”

“You can clean this after work.”

“My boss invited us for dinner then my friends called.”

“You could have had househelp or pay for cleaning service.”

“This is a studio apartment and I live alone.”

“Then just get married,”

You dropped the spoon you’re scrubbing and turned to him. Yoongi was crouching down, reaching for the crooks and nooks of your table with the vacuum’s portable nozzle.

“Min. Seriously.”

“I’m just saying.”

“Whatever, grandpa,” you groaned. “I should’ve said yes to that one-night stand with Eric or whoever he is,” you muttered, but in that small space, he heard you loud and clear.

“Y/n!” he yelled, the vacuum still working in a whir, the hood of his jacket falling off, revealing his glowing face. Why did you purchase that damn expensive silent machine?

“What? Next time send me a message when you’re coming over, okay?” you annoyingly replied.

He huffed, “So you could fuck an Eric behind my back?”

At times, his visits would turn into banters, mostly when you both express your different opinions on things. You don’t take it to the heart, but he could get annoying, and you could sense when he’s annoyed too. You know better not to reply as his voice was filled with venom.

---

You were alone in his place at ten in the evening. Yoongi texted you his passcode and asked you to wait for him. He arrived home at midnight, finding you asleep on the sofa with your laptop still turned on. He didn’t bother to wake you up and covered you with a duvet instead. You didn’t even stir as he slipped a pillow under your head.

“Morning,” you greeted as you rounded the counter to watch him cook.

“Sorry. I thought I’d finish early last night,” he said as he flipped the pancake.

You leaned your hip against the counter, your eyes trained on the pan. “It’s okay.”

“Prepare the coffee,” he commanded. You chuckled and walked off, “Good morning to me too. Thank you, self, let’s prepare coffee for Yoongi.”

At the table, you both silently started breakfast. It’s the weekend and you woke up earlier than usual as you’ve heard the rustling in his kitchen. His place is bigger and very well maintained, unlike yours. Well, he has someone cleaning up for him, but you’d rather save that money for yourself.

“Are you moving out of your place?” he asked as he drank from his glass.

You looked up with curiosity, wondering how he knew. You haven’t told anyone.

“I am. How did you know?”

He tilted his head towards the living area and said, “I didn’t mean to, but you left your laptop on last night. It’s opened on a listing.”

You shrugged then shook your head in resignation, “My landlord raised the rent. It’s just outside my budget. Then all the places I found within my price range are a bit far from my work. Although,” you trailed off, turning your full attention on him. You placed down your fork and knife.

“I found this really nice place in digital city, they have a nice wide park at the front, then the sunlight is good, it’s near museums. It’s just a bit over my price range, but not as high as the increased rate of my current place. What do you think?”

“It’s far,” he commented, slicing on his pancake.

“Bus is cheap,” you supplied before munching on the scrambled eggs.

Yoongi swallowed, his brows furrowing, then said, “You have to wake up early.”

“That’s easy.”

Placing his knife and fork down, he asked, “What if you work late at night? You’ll travel an hour on your own taking a taxi? You always finish late,” he ended picking back up the knife and fork again. He watched you intently as he works on another slice.

You pursed your lips, considering the point he’s implying. However, that’s the best deal you could find so far.

“It would be a waste to let it pass though,” you defended.

“Why the hurry?” he asked with a hint of his dialect accent.

“The landlord wants me to move out in a month,” you informed him, your lips turned down and you sighed in exasperation.

“He can’t do that.”

“I know! But someone else is already interested and wants to move in asap. He told me last week,” you said in a pout.

“Then just stay here until you can find a place. I’m sure somewhere nearby would open up soon,” he nonchalantly offered as he continued eating.

You waved your hand, “I can’t do that to you. Thanks for the offer though. Digital city is not a bad place, it’s upscale, though a bit far, but yeah, I like it.”

Yoongi placed his fork down and sternly looked at you, “It’s not sustainable. Imagine going back and forth for a year early in the morning,” he started, his free hand emphasizing his point, “then how much a taxi ride would cost across the city late at night? You’ll get tired. Transportation is expensive too.”

You shrugged and defended, “What can I do then? It is what it is.”

“Just don’t rush. It’s not easy to look for a place. In the meantime, just stay here. It’s the end of the month so move in here as soon as possible so you won’t have to pay for your rent next month.”

You paused and gauged his expression. He seemed serious and genuinely offers you a solution. He has a point. Your lips quivered and your heart exploded in gratitude.

“Yoongi!” you yelled. Then you walked to his side and hugged him by the waist.

“You’re so nice. You didn’t really have to, you know. Are you sure?” you murmured, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Yeah. I have a spare bedroom here. I don’t really mind.”

You let him go and grinned, “I’ll move out as soon as I can, I promise.”

“Don’t bother yourself too much about it. Prioritize your work,” he grumbled, stuffing a piece of bacon in his mouth. You beamed at him regardless. You reached for the pitcher and filled his half-empty glass of water.

---

A month passed by and you kind of dwelled into some kind of normalcy living together. It’s nothing much different really. Except that your hangouts and breakfasts occur every day now. You would take turns in cooking and cleaning, making it easier for both of your schedules. Surprisingly, your weekends are pretty much spent apart. You would go to the gym or be out for a run in a whole morning then just camp inside your bedroom for the rest of the day.

You were browsing again for a place and took note of a good prospect. Maybe you’ll give the contact a call tomorrow. Work piled up again, allowing you less time to browse, but finishing a project got you an ample free time to do anything you want for now. The apartment looks neat in the picture and the rate’s good. It made you somehow relieved and hoped that you could move out soon. Although you know Yoongi doesn’t mind, you’re still not comfortable with the idea that you’re staying in his place for free. The grandpa just won’t budge.

The front door beeped and swung open, revealing your friend and current landlord. You sauntered to him, but you were stopped on your tracks when you could smell the alcohol even at a meter’s distance.

You scrunched your nose at the scent, observing his hazed state, “Are you drunk?”

He chuckled, “No. Just buzzed,” he answered, fumbling out of his shoes.

You turned around and headed for the kitchen to fetch him a glass of water. Yoongi followed suit and silently accepted the drink.

He let out a refreshed sigh after he downed the whole glass in one shot. His cheeks are a bit red and his eyes looked sleepy.

You chuckled at the sight and brushed his hair away from his face, cupping his cheeks against your palm. “You should take meds, so you won’t have a headache tomorrow.”

Yoongi hummed, his weight was beginning to rest on you. You ducked away from the smell of his breath.

“You stink. Wash up and sleep already,” you told him, walking out and going back to the living area to continue your search.

His bedroom door fell shut and ten minutes later it swung open again, revealing him in his usual sweater and shorts. He looked more awake now.

You glanced back to your laptop and said, “Why aren’t you asleep?”

“Just ‘cause.”

He sat beside you, watching what you’re doing. His arms were idly placed on your back.

“You still looking for a place?”

You nodded and hummed.

“Y/n,” he called.

You just hummed back, scrolling down the page. You clicked on one particular result and read the details.

Yoongi sighed beside you, making you look at him. Your eyes met his.

He glanced down to your lips before leaning in. Your eyes fluttered close as he placed a chaste kiss.

You were confused at his action for a bit because you didn’t see it coming at all until the last second. However, Yoongi didn’t give you time to process as he dove in for another, kissing you deeper.

He took your laptop from your lap in one hand and placed it on the coffee table. His hand snaked through your waist, pulling you closer to him. His tongue felt warm and invading. All of your senses fell shut and all you could focus on was his kiss. You parted away, glancing at his half-lidded gaze. Yoongi trailed kisses from your cheeks to the side of your face. You squirmed as he coyly bit your earlobe.

“Yoongi,” your voice came out softly. Your hands were placed on his upper arm and your palms pushed against it, feeling its firmness.

“I’m sorry. I got carried away,” he replied, his voice rasped.

You met his eyes and said, “It’s okay. Really,” you assured him. You were surprised at his sudden display of affection. It made you wonder what pushed him to be that way or maybe it was just the alcohol. He’s a good friend and given his persona, you just thought that he won’t ever see you that way.

Yoongi’s a good guy. He’s a good friend.

But as a lover…

You clenched your fists at even entertaining that thought.

“Y/n,” he called, pulling you out of your turmoil.

His eyes intently glanced into yours. “I’m okay, you’re okay, right?”

You nodded, unsure.

“We’re okay. Nothing has to change,” he muttered.

“Alright,” you replied meekly. Somehow relieved. You looked down as you placed your hands on your lap. Yoongi held you by your wrists and wrapped your arms around him. Your head came into contact against his chest, wafting a hint of his bodywash.

You don’t know how long you’ve stayed in that position. Yoongi laid down later on, taking you with him. Neither of you spoke and just enjoyed each other’s company as you’ve done before hundreds of times, though less the cuddling.

As your eyes fell shut from the way he’s caressing your back and patting your thigh in a rhythmic lullaby, you reminded yourself: nothing has to change.

---

You were sweaty from the body heat hogging your personal space. Your disgust turned into calmness when you found Yoongi sleeping peacefully next to you.

Every time he would come home, he would pester you in your room, stealing your laptop and use it to watch random YouTube videos. You just sigh and hit him with a pillow but would end up laughing with him at some funny compilations until your consciousness ease down and fall asleep. He’s very much making the room you’re using his own bedroom. You didn’t complain and just let him be.

Just then your tummy grumbled, letting out gas. You giggled in embarrassment and saw his forehead in a scrunch, telling you he’s awake.

He moaned and complained, “What kind of garbage did you eat last night?”

You beamed even though he kept his eyes closed, “Good morning!”

“You farted,” he whined, stealing the pillow under your head and covered his face with it.

You laughed and proudly declared, “Be honored. I only fart in front of my brother.”

He took the pillow out of his face and glared at you.

“We kissed. That’s gross.”

Chuckling, you replied, “Well, aside from that.”

---

It was the holidays, but you have nothing to spend it with. You were just really planning to stay at home and rest like you’ve done for the past weekends, but Yoongi managed to drag you back to his hometown. You left at dawn, cruising through the highway at a relaxed pace. You’ve done it a couple of times but being on the road and enjoying the scenery never gets old.

He fondly glanced at you singing along to songs and he would laugh when you rap to Eminem. Most of them were just babbles and broken distinguishable words at each end of the line. When you managed to rap a full half verse, he cheered.

It went off to the chorus and you both sang to it, with you doing the double lines.

“Jagi, you improved now,” he told you, his eyes glinting in amusement. You know your rap is bad, but his comment made you happy.

“Is that a compliment? I’m honored,” you teased, beaming at him. You ignored the endearment that slipped out of his mouth. You noticed he does it often lately, but never called him out on it. Still, his use of endearment and physical affection didn’t change anything.

“No. You still suck at it, ” he replied in a serious face.

And that’s one of the reasons why. He would turn back to his savage self in a blink.

You laid against the headrest, glancing at him. You chuckled when you caught him grinning, his gums showing.

You turned to the back seat and found the dessert you packed safely in place. It’s a courtesy for you to not come to someone else’s house empty-handed. When Yoongi argued that you didn’t have to, you scowled at him and told him to let you be. At the end, he just gave you his do-what-you-want nod.

You were not nervous at all when you met his parents. They were nice and welcoming. If you’ll be meeting the parents of a supposed boyfriend, maybe you have run for the hills now, but it’s Yoongi’s parents. You heard a lot about them, especially his dad. Yoongi impersonates the way he talks and would even quote him.

The time of your arrival was just nice for lunch. You sat beside Yoongi and thanked his mom and dad for allowing you to come over and for the meal they prepared.

In the middle of it, his mom asked, “Y/n, how did you meet our Yoongi?”

She was in contrast of the cold demeanor of his son. Sometimes, you wonder where he got it. “Through a mutual friend, Mrs. Min. I was his conversation partner for some time. Yoongi helped me with the language here a lot.”

At this, his mother looked interested, “How did that work?”

You turned to your friend if he would bother explaining, but he just continued eating, “Yoongi and I just talk about things. We take turns in practicing the language we’re learning. Then we would correct each other.”

His father nodded and his mother let out a knowing, “Ah…”

Then they further asked about your life in your home country, as well as your parents’ thoughts on working abroad and away from them. Basically, you were in a hot seat for a few minutes asking about your family, how you came to Seoul, and your career. It went on until Yoongi interrupted.

“Is this a job interview?” he rudely asked, making his parents pause at their questioning.

You turned to him, abashed, but he was just chuckling. His parents, on the other hand, both pursed their lips and looked at you hesitatingly, wondering if they were being offensive.

“It’s alright. People are usually interested in those things if you come from a different background,” you told them reassuringly.

“I get these questions a lot,” you added. Which is true. You memorized the answers to those frequently asked questions like the back of your hand. You know when to pause to wait for their ooh’s and aah’s, what expression would prompt you to explain further, and even the gestures of your hand.

But since Yoongi ruined the flow of the conversation, you looked around and talked about the interior of the house and how big it is. You started with the collection you noticed.

His father basked in your amusement on the ornaments displayed at the corner, “I chose them myself. I curated this,” he gestured on the wall, “all the way there to that wall,” he joyfully told you, pointing at the intricate shelf divider. The mini sculptures, furniture, and paintings made the space looked like a museum or a president’s office.

Yoongi’s mother frowned at her husband and turned to you, “Yoongi spent a lot on those displays because of his father. I told him it’s too much!”

“Why? It looks nice and they can pass it to their children and grandchildren! The values of these will go up! Don’t you agree, Y/n?”

“I bought some myself too, so they have more to pass on,” his father added, defending himself.

You don’t know how to react amidst their banter that you just looked at Yoongi again. Thankfully, this time, he caught your gaze.

“Did you had my room cleaned? I don’t want to sleep in the guest room,” he diverted.

His mother answered, “Of course! We prepared the guest room too for Y/n.”

Yoongi’s brows scrunched. “You shouldn’t have bothered. We sleep together.”

Your mouth fell agape at his bluntness.

“You sleep together?” his father parroted.

Yoongi simply nodded, “She lives with me. Haven’t I told you?”

Then he mumbled, “I thought I told you over the phone? Ah, maybe that was Jin.”

You laughed meekly and clarified, “It’s only temporary, Mr. and Mrs. Min. Yoongi kindly offered me a spare bedroom in his apartment. I’m moving out maybe in a month? The landlord told me that his tenant’s lease would end soon.”

"You didn't tell me this," Yoongi pointed out, his tone sounding a bit tensed.

You chuckled and lightly replied, "I told you I won't stay for a long time."

"You didn't tell me you have a place already. You should've let me know so I could check on it."

You glanced at his mom then to his dad nervously before going back to him. You're nervous at the way he's acting sore about it. In front of his parents.

You smiled, trying to lighten up the damp atmosphere he caused, "You don't have to, Yoongi."

"I have to, I'll be sleeping there."

Your eyes widened a fraction and you turned to his parents defensively. They're looking as shocked as you, but for a different reason you badly want to correct.

"It's not like that, Mr. and Mrs. Min. We're really just friends."

His mother laughed, though it sounded forced, “We know how kids are these days. No need to explain yourself, Y/n.”

You were about to correct her again when Yoongi placed his spoon down with a thud, startling the three of you. He let out a loud sigh and stood up. “I’ll check up on Holly,” he muttered.

"Yoongi-" you called to stop him from leaving you with his own parents, but he just ignored you and went out.

You pursed your lips and bowed down to his parents in apology. "I'm sorry for his behavior. He's just tired from the long drive." You looked up and threw a timid smile, "I'll talk to him later."

His dad opened his mouth to say something but kept still while glancing at his wife.

"I think you should go after him now. It's okay," he finally said after a beat.

"Ah..." you trailed off, thinking about how to explain. "Just let him be for a few minutes, Mr. Min. He'll come back."

And true to your words, his parents were surprised when their son came back to the table few minutes later in the middle of them asking you about the Korean dishes you like.

Yoongi just silently sat down and took his chopsticks. You looked at him as he browsed the table and you immediately picked a meat for him, placing it on his plate.

"I don't have kimchi," he muttered.

His mother was about to stand up but she stopped when her husband placed a hand on her forearm.

You reached for your own serving and placed it beside him.

"You can have mine."

You turned to his mom as she let out a chuckle.

"I'll get more for you, Y/n."

"Oh, thank you, Mrs. Min,"

The whole table was silent even after Mrs. Min went back and placed down new plates of kimchi for everyone. It was only for a while before she cleared her throat and talked.

"Do you have a boyfriend, Y/n?"

"Mom," Yoongi warned.

You lightly answered, "None, Mrs. Min,"

She pursed her lips as if thinking. Her eyes switching between you and her son making her suspicious.

You know how mothers would be against people coming from a different background, so you reassured her again.

"Yoongi and I are really just good friends, Mrs. Min. He invited me here since I have no one to spend the holiday with. I really owe you a lot for allowing me to tag along."

She waved her hand off, “Anything for my precious Yoongi.”

Smile escaped your lips at her endearment.

---

The rest of the weekend holiday was good. His parents took you to a nearby farm while Yoongi basically just tagged along. He left you talking to them and would walk behind. Every time you find it hard to explain or understand things you would turn back and call for him. He would catch up and join in to help, then would lag behind later.

It was already late in the evening when you arrived back in the city. You went straight to your room and washed up for bed, feeling the blues of another work week seep into your consciousness. At the end, your exhaustion from the travel lulled you to sleep.

"Jagi,"

You stirred at the familiar voice. Swaying between sleep and wakefulness, you hummed in reply.

Yoongi whispered your name this time.

You hear a click and warm light flashed against your closed lids. Squinting your eyes open, you found his nervous ones. Yoongi was kneeling on the floor, leveling his head to yours. You pulled back a bit to see his face.

"What?" you groaned at him when he kept staring.

"I..." he trailed off, his eyes unfocused, not knowing where to start.

He closed his eyes in agony and you furrowed your brows in worry. "Is everything alright?"

He looked at you quickly and nodded yes. "Everything's fine. Perfect."

"What time is it?"

"It's 3 am."

You moaned in annoyance, "What the hell, Yoongi? Go back to sleep."

"I haven't. I can't sleep."

You sighed and moved back, away from your side of the bed, giving him space, "Lie down and close your eyes."

He hesitated for a bit but still followed your order.

Once he settled under the sheets, he found you going back to sleep. He muttered your name under his breath.

"Fuck you. I have work at 9 am," you grumbled.

He called for you again.

But this time, you turned your back against him in reply.

Yoongi slipped his arms from behind, spooning you, his fingers clasping against your left hand.

"Yoongi, please, let's sleep," you whined, firmly holding your eyes closed.

He sighed slowly before whispering carefully against your ear, “Marry me?”

Silence.

You could feel his heart beating fast against your back as he waited in anticipation. It was a shot in the dark, literally and figuratively. Yoongi just had this eureka moment when you arrived home. You fell into his life and swirled in the gaps and cracks he barely noticed that was there. He thought he had everything, until you. You were the person he thought he wouldn't mind not having, but seeing how everything clicked into place, the picture became complete. Like the varnish he thought he wouldn’t need on a painting he just finished.

"Fine," you replied, your voice soft and tender. Then you added, "Just let me sleep," you said in a firm tone.

Yoongi let out a relieved sigh. "I sent flight tickets to your parents. Next week. I took care of everything for their visit. My parents will visit the city too," he whispered, careful with the volume of his voice.

You let out a sigh, "I'm telling you if this marriage will be fucked up, I'm leaving."

He groaned in response, "Let fuck fuck with itself," he murmured while he squeezed more into your space, inhaling your scent. Sleep came fast to him as he finally made you agree.

#bts fanfic #bts fluff #yoongi fanfic #min yoongi x reader #one shot #fluff #yoongi fluff #yoongi fic #suga #yoongi one shot #yoongi imagine #yoongi x you #yoongi drabble #bts drabble #suga x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n

[arduadastra]

Din and titty fucking? maybe a facial??? maybe he even turns the light off to clean it up himself???????? just a ✨suggestion✨

I got my second vaccine yesterday and I feel like shit but you know what I need? Din titty fucking reader and god damn am I going to deliver. Thank you for indulging me anon!

I also snuck in some fluff because Din may be an absolute machine but he's a big softie too ok?

**Warning: 18+ F!Reader, titty fucking, cum marking, swearing and fluff???.**

You and Din had been a thing for a few months now. You had both been tiptoeing around each other for weeks before you finally made a move and asked him to share your bedroll on a particularly cold hyperspace flight.

The rest, as they say, is history.

Now, you were helping Mando plot a course for his next bounty. The amount of knowledge the guy had still amazed you and sitting there listening to him list off all the coordinates and hi strategy plans had you feeling slightly hotter than usual.

You stared at him as he spoke, the deep rumble of the modulator leaving you feeling fuzzy as you couldn’t help but drift your mind back to the night before.

He had woken you up hard and aching and you had found yourself above him as he pressed bruises into your hips. Your fingers trailed down as you sat there and you hissed when you pressed into them.

You must’ve sat there for a while because you feel his hand suddenly shake your shoulder, “Hey. You listening?”

You could hear the smug smile he had under that helmet like he knew exactly what had you so distracted. You cleared your throat.

“Um yeah totally...you think the bounty is uh...gonna..” You trail off and glance away from him, embarrassed at the fact you had been thinking of the man in front of you being below you instead.

You hear Mando shuffle the blueprints and paper off the table and you look back just as he leans back in his chair opposite you, crossing his arms over his broad chest that makes your thighs clench on your seat.

“You okay there adika?”

Oh you loved it when he called you that.

“Mmhmm.”

He stands now and you follow him as he walks purposefully to your seat, placing himself between you and the table and he leans forward into your space.

“I know what you’re thinking about.”

You swallow.

“I know you’re thinking about last night. You know how I know?”

“Uh...no?”

He presses his helmet to your forehead, “because I’m thinking about it too.”

You gasp, and you close your eyes at the intoxicating presence that is the bounty hunter before you. He takes your hand and presses it to his crotch and you groan at the hard bulge you feel there. 

“Been like this for twenty minutes adika. Can’t stop thinking about what you looked like with your mouth around my cock. How you felt above me.”

You whimper at the image. “Fuck Mando, I- I need you.”

He stands and drags you into him, walking you backwards before roughly shoving you to the floor where your bedroll lays. You lie there as he stands above you, watching as he palms himself over his flight suit.

“You’re very distracting.”

You smile up at him, “I have no idea what you mean.”

He lowers himself to the floor, beskar clanking against the crest floor as his hand drifts to your chest, toying with the shirt you had on.

He seems distracted when he says, “How much do you like this?” 

You raise your eyebrow, “Uh, can’t say I’m particularly attached.”

Mando fists the material in his fist, “Good” and rips the material off your chest.

He growls when he sees you bare underneath, “Maker, I’m never getting tired of this,” and he fumbles with his flight suit again, bringing himself out and groaning as he starts pumping himself.

You sit up and swat his hand away, “thought you said you couldn’t stop thinking about my mouth,” and swallow him down, moaning at his musky scent that makes your pussy clench.

Mando’s hands find their way into your hair and guides your mouth as he fucks himself into you, hips snapping as he bends himself in half trying to get deeper, “that’s it, so needy for me mesh’la, drive me crazy.”

One hand squeezes his base as the other toys with your nipples and you have a thought, giving him one last suck and pulling off his cock with an obscene pop. You look up at him and he tilts his helmet, the hand on your nipple tugging harshly, “did I say you could stop?”

You lie back and sweep your ruined shirt off your chest, “I thought you might like to fuck something else.”

Mando seems stunned into silence and you bite your lip at the notion before he’s on you, beskar steel pressing into your chest, “You’re killing me adika.”

You press your breasts into his helmet and you moan at the coolness of metal on your heated skin, “C’mon Mando, I wanna feel you mark me.”

You hear him gasp and he’s gone, knees moving to frame your body as he slides his spit slick cock between your tits and you groan, “that’s it, that’s what I need.”

He shoves into your warmth, and whips his gloves off to squeeze yourself around his aching cock, “yeah...yeah..you need me marking you up don’t you. Maker, what I wouldn’t do...”

You shove your hand between you and rub at your aching clit, finding yourself ridiculously wet as Mando fucks himself into you, “Tell me, tell me what you’d do Mando. Please.”

He slows to a punishingly slow pace and you watch his visor as he speaks, your fingers slowly dragging through your wet slit as he speaks, “If I could? I’d keep you here for days. I’d mark you as mine with my teeth, my tongue, my cock. I’d leave you covered in me when I go hunt bounties knowing that wherever you go, people know who you belong to.”

You moan and thrust two fingers into yourself at the thought, Mando had never been this openly possessive and you loved it. 

Since you became a thing you definitely noticed a change in him. He would sit in booths with his arm around the back of you or walk down the street with a palm splayed on your lower back but it was always subtle, never this brazen.

Watching him now you could feel the heat of his gaze, even through the T Visor. His hands squeezing your breasts tightly as he fucked into them. You press your other hand onto his chest, clutching his chest plate.

He picks up speed now and you get a peek at the tight tendons in his neck and the shudder that goes through his body. He’s close.

“Can I? Adika can I...can I mark you now? Please...please...”

You groan, five seconds ago he was all but defiling you with his words but he’s still asking permission, even in this state.

“Yes. Make me yours.”

The noise that left his chest was primal as he fucks between your tits, once, twice, before spilling across your chest and chin as he growls through it.

You thrust down onto your fingers, pushing into that spot that makes you see stars and you finish right alongside him, “Mando...ugh-fu-mando..” Your orgasm leaves you trembling and you look down at the mess covering your breasts, “fuck.”

Mando withdraws and seems enchanted, he looks up and then back down to you, “close your eyes.”

“What? Why?”

His voice seems strained, “Just do it.”

You squeeze your eyes shut and you hear a soft hiss from above you. Before you can remember what that sound means a soft warm tongue finds itself on your nipple and you gasp.

“Mando what are you?”

“Shhhh adika. Let me...let me do this”

The sudden softness of his actions make you smile, you think it's his way of apologising for being so rough. It’s rare you hear him without the helmet and you love how deep it is. You sigh as his tongue laps at his own mess and you thread your hands through his hair, it's so soft.

You feel weightless when you next speak, your eyes being closed giving you the confidence you needed to say “Mando?”

He hums.

“I’m so glad I found you.”

You feel him stop. There’s a moment of silence before you feel him press a soft kiss to your sternum. The words went unsaid but you knew his response.

Me too.

---

Send me something! I write for Din, Whiskey, Javi, Oberyn, Max P, Frankie and Ezra <3

#din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x female reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #the manadalorian x female reader #din x you #din x reader #din x female reader #mando x reader #mando x female reader #mando x you #mando smut #mandalorian smut #din djarin smut #din smut #din djarin drabble #mando drabble

[unfortunate-brat]

Yet Here We Are

WITDB Square Filled: Hostage

AFAB Square Filled: Best Friends to Enemies

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Latina!Reader

Word Count: 466

Summary: Friends shouldn’t know the way you taste, let alone your enemies.

Warnings: Best Friends to Enemies, Heavy Angst, Needles, Blood Extraction, Implied Smut, slight description to reader nothing major.

Created For: @anyfandomangstbingo | @writinginthedarkbingo

A/N: I am accepting headcanons and blurb requests for Corazón & Steve Rogers !! You can send them to my inbox !!

Credit: @agentofbarnes is the one who has done AU headcanons and requests first, so props to her along with @the-iceni-bitch both who inspired me to do the same. Go check out their pages for amazing writing. ❤️😩 @cockslut-padalecki i stole your prompt from 11 sentences challenge sorry not sorry.

Seething.

Regretting.

Calculating.

Those are the words that could describe his expression now, an odd combination but the man’s system is running with that anyways.

Never quite fails to amaze him how cunning someone can be, to watch this person go through life’s battles with you and yet be the one to drive the dagger into your heart.

And here she stands, hair much shorter than he remembers. Eyes lifeless and nothing like the innocence that once filled them, she’s even trimmed down a bit face wise, like her jawline seems sharper. Maybe it’s from the way the woman had been constantly clenching her jaw earlier. Old people used to say if you did a stupid facial expression for long, your face will permanently stay that way.

“ Corazón.” The nickname puts her on pause for a moment, and in that time Steve seeks out a glimmer of hope in revisiting the woman he used to know. “ You know what’s gonna happen.” As mad as Steve ought to be, he’s only able to humanize the woman here.

He recalls the first night, the way their bodies got tangled up thanks to the alcohol Tony provided at his gala. The words spoken between them, both in Spanish and English.

“ How do you say heart in Spanish then?” His eyes travel upwards to meet her soft gaze, both their bodies in comfortable bliss side by side.

“ Corazón.”

“ And now how do you say you are my.”

“ Tu eres mi.” She is still buzzed from the alcohol so it’s not exactly clicking, and Steve can’t really get drunk anymore but since Thor also showed up with his own beer per say, that was having a slight effect on him.

“ Tu eres mi Corazón.” He whispers, a dopey grin on his face as she playfully swats Steve’s chest.

“ Don’t be ridiculous, best friends can’t be your heart. Makes no sense.” She wants to add more but his lips claim her own once more, body towering over yet again.

“ And friends shouldn’t know how you taste yet here we are…”

Steve takes a deep breath as she grabs a syringe, flicking the middle of it. “ Corazón please.”

Turning to him, she aligned the needle right where his vein was, inserting it and beginning the process of extraction. “ You can still make this right. Walk away without any consequences, we can go back to what it used to be.”

He’s met with silence as she continues to work, extracting a couple vials of his blood before storing them in a cooler and checking the time.

“ There is no going back, after all, friends shouldn’t know the way you taste. Let alone your enemies.” Now packed up, she starts to head for the door but stops right at the threshold. “ The world’s changed since you took your trip back to the 40’s, time to get with the program Rogers.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

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#anyfandomangstbingo #writing in the dark bingo #steve rogers angst #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #Steve Rogers x Latina!Reader #Steve Rogers smut #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans angst