#it just sort of. sucks to see that im not a well liked person and i mean. i understand where ppl come from

[doctorwhoisadhd]

hmm thinking about the idea of love songs. i think the idea of what a love song is that we have in our culture is inherently a little bit flawed because we have the idea that any song written about romantic feelings is a love song and im thinking thats not exactly true because there is a difference between "romance" and "love". what i'm saying is not that love is a broader category and applies to things that are not romantic in nature. this is in fact true, but it's not what makes the important distinction here. the true distinction between "romance" and "love" is that romance is a societally defined type of interest in another person, whereas love is, essentially, a promise that you make when you build a relationship.

as such, what i call "love" here might be better defined as "care", as that implies more time and effort, but that's a different suitcase to unpack and largely unimportant to my point here, which is more about the societal conventions of what we call love songs. the point is, relationships can be built with other people, yes, but also animals, places, organizations, ideas, so on and so on, whereas romance requires another person, hence the difference between the ideas of "romance" and "love".

with that in mind, there are two types of songs we in western, english speaking, society call "love songs":

1) songs that are about a person's romantic interest in someone that is either definitively known to be unrequited (existing monogamous relationship, sexuality that doesn't align, etc) or simply not requited (aka romantic interest being unknown); and

2) songs about an existing relationship (keeping in mind my points about relationships not just being with people, but also places, things, etcetera) as is.

(some examples of the latter category: mountaintop by relient k, which defines the relationship in question as non-romantic; or i miss my mum by cavetown, which is - as the title implies - a song about the singer missing their mother.)

now, the thing that makes distinguishing these two difficult is the fact that songs about an existing relationship CAN be about wanting certain aspects of that relationship to change. in these cases, determining that a song is one or the other will hinge either on a) authorial intent or b) whether the song is more about what the singer wants (thereby implying #1) or the lack thereof in that relationship (which would imply #2).

to get back to the subject at hand: the term "love song", as we think of it, is an umbrella term that include both of these two categories, and i think that perhaps it is reductive to do so. with that in mind, i think perhaps it would be more appropriate for "love song" to mean only the latter, whereas the former is a category of its own. WHICH is not to say that the two can't overlap — just that if a song is about a person with whom the singer has no relationship, it cannot be considered a love song due to the fact that it is a song about infatuation, not love.

(another interesting wrinkle this provides is the fact that a song might start out in the first category and, as the writer develops a relationship with a person, might move into the second category as they write more.)

#anyway. just some of my thoughts on this as an aromantic songwriter #ari opinion hour #this goes a good deal to reconcile my constant writing of love songs with the fact that none of them are romantic #which im fine with as long as im keeping them to myself but it DOES feel dishonest when i hide that theyre love songs. #however this did also go some way to convince me that maybe care songs is an alternative that i SHOULD use because it is more applicable to #me than the concept of love which MOST people do not have the same perspective on as i do and having different definitions of the same word #is an important barrier to consider in communication #i will admit i do think im clinging to my care songs being love songs due to my relationship with an organization to which love is very #important as i dont want to go back on my promises to that organization as it IS very important to me #anyway. can you tell ive been reading house of leaves by the fact that this appeared fully fledged in my head in fully academic language #but for real like thinking about it now and even my old love songs like most would probably think to see them that they would go in the #first category and they just. DO NOT. at least not the ones that were written after i was like Yeah im aro again #its interesting the ones i wrote in the brief period where i thought i WASNT aro in like mid hs those i WOULD put in the first category #even though like i do NOT think i was right about it being romantic #but the ones after i was like Yea im aro again are like. Thats definitely the latter #part of it is i did find a voice that was like genuinely Mine and wasnt just writing sort of generic love songs #love songs in the typical usage i mean so they were really more infatuation songs #but like i was still with the last person irl who i wrote these about divorced from like... my aroness because of how much i liked him #and i would still put those in the second category #so part of it is awareness as well #so. yeah. its interesting #i probably should just suck it up and start calling them care songs. even if people dont know what i mean to say that

[dirt-str1der]

Love characterising nishikiyama as a booze hound drug hound meth addict high every day body mass 75% alcohol hands constantly shaking literally spacing out while driving fifty over the speed limit using elderly folk as speedbumps one hand on the wheel and one hand free to do more drugs and coming into work while functionally deaf and blind and he is still leagues more competent at his job than kiryu

#Yakuza loveblog #i dont talk about nishikiyama enough because im kazamapilled and hate him a little bit but im also kiryupilled and love him so much so you #see my problem? like i adore when nishiki is just. better in every way than kiryu and nobody ever sees that because theyre all too busy #sucking kiryus cock like okay nishiki had the rest of his life planned out when he was twenty and he was an extremely successful criminal #and getting himself noticed in many many circles then kiryu steps outside and gets into a street fight immediately and the entire tojo clan #surrounds him to throw cash at him like nishiki was actually doing so well for himself before his life was ruined. nothing is his fault #like i love just accepting that nishiki has one hell of a substance abuse problem and nobody cares enough about him to talk to him about it #and kiryu thinks its normal because hes the only one who can see that nishikis doing some great work out there so he must be doing #everything right. inconceivable that nishiki has any sort of ‘problem’ hes the real screwup and kiryu knows he makes life harder for himself #but he refuses to change because hes convinced that thats the only thing hes good at. like i believe that nishiki has a coke snorting #mechanic in game like harry db and without his coke buff he cant do as much damage like with it his output is on par with kiryus whos just #been blessed since birth by the violence gods. anyway kiryu is the only person in the world who thinks that nishiki is great do you get it #nishiki has lived his entire life in kiryus shadow and he doesnt care that kiryu has a natural charisma that he will never have. he has to #get out there every single day networking and socialising and hustling and nonstop landing interviews with cool magazines to get his name #out in the world while kazama takes kiryu out and drags him by the elbow to meet people like this is my son kiryu who has every disease and #everyone claps and cheers like i cannot stress enough how on top of the game nishiki is compared to kiryu. he has a car. kiryu doesnt even #have his own lighter. they are not on the same playing field and yet nishikis always trailing behind him because opportunity is always #knocking at kiryus doorstep whether he likes it or not and nishiki gets fed scraps and nothing else and hes the one with ambition he wants #the view on top and most importantly he wanted his brother there with him but nobody ... likes him ... nobody likes nishiki nobodys in his #corner he onky had kiryu and when he lost him it was quite literally him against the world. it always made me laugh how at the end of yk1 #harukas paying her respects at nishikis grave when the only time he ever cared about her was because he wanted her little pendant and he #(actually fucked how alone nishiki was he didnt even have his own fucking men to rely on he was basically working alone with someone he knew #was using him like ??? he was fucking desperate) anyway i really love to think that kiryu being nishikis only friend and the last person in #the world who thought kindly of him (barring like ... kashiwagi) was grieving terribly over his death and haruka being a sensitive and #sweet little girl took the initiative to ask about nishiki and i think kiryu would tell her stories every night of the kind of stuff he and #nishikiyama would get up to when they were her age. he would tell her how amazing nishiki was and how he always looked out for him how he #took care of his sister and how he would always be the one to remind them of impending birthdays and the like. nishiki cared about the #little things .. and he made kiryu want to care about them too but theres just something different between them because nishikis always #been a better person than him .. and he would tell haruka in a voice that sounded like he was begging her to understand that nishiki wasnt a #bad person.. though he did bad things he was a good man and he still wishes with all his heart that he could have done more to save him ...

[gothwizardmagic]

.

#the longer this season goes on the more difficult im finding w/w/d/i/t/s to watch #its really really hard watching outright abusive behaviour played for yuks with n/andor and m/arwa #and like... his behaviour towards g/uillermo has always been awful too #but man seeing it play out in this context & to this extreme is BAD #at this point i actively dislike n/andor as a character & get upset/pissed off when he shows up #and im super not shipping n/andermo anymore i dont WANT him to get a big redemption romance #the show has just.... taken his entire character in this really ugly direction and its soiled so much of the show for me #i think the distinction is when he was treating g/uillermo like crap it was sort of couched in like #''well hes a vampire he views a human familiar as lesser its not personal its just a Vampire Thing'' #which SUCKS but its like.... Consistent With The Lore #this is just him being a complete dickhead to his literal wife #for NO REASON #i hope m/arwa fucking stakes him and n/adja turns g/uillermo because they need a new permanent flatmate

[staycait]

⊹ 　 ﹒ 　 ❝ 　a losers secret ⠀⊹⠀˚⠀ ౨ৎ

𝜗𝜚 ┈ loser!scara x shy!fem!reader ㅤ ✦

𝐈. ──ㅤ youre the good and shy girl of the school, everyone knows you and everyone likes you, you consider everyone a friend, even the loser that sits in the back of the class. but what happens if you, the most well-liked good girl, gets paired up with the most hated loser in school ?

𝐈𝐈. ──ㅤ mentions of fingering , overstimulation , cream pie , raw sex , mentions of markings , little bits of degradation 'n praise, reader is very shy and gets nervous easily , reader is inexperienced , reader is innocent , breeding kink , && corruption kink .

𝐈𝐈𝐈. ──ㅤ nsfw , smut , english is not my first language, please forgive me , proofread , fluffy yet suggestive ending .

﹒ thoughts ; hope u guys enjoy this ,, its been months since i was active here and im trying to get back here because ive been starving yall </3 . btw , reqs are open ! feel free to req anything . :) what do we think of new theme tho? it keeps changing 😭 .. and ngl this fic kinda sucks. ☹️☹️ but yeah i hope u guys still like this even if it’s horrible!

> story right under the cut <

SCARAMOUCHE is the typical loner you’d see in your class, black jacket with the hoodie over his head, headphones on, is at the back of the class, and much more. there were rumors that he murdered someone, that he does drugs, and the list goes on. no one likes him—in fact, everyone hates him.. almost everyone hates him.

for your english project, you got paired up with scaramouche. after the teacher announced who would be paired with who, everyone in your class came up to you, telling you how much sympathy they have for you, that how sorry they are for you, and telling you ‘good luck with dealing with him’.

you were confused, what was so bad about scaramouche? sure there were rumors, but if they don’t evidence that they did those stuff, you have no reason to believe in the rumors. you felt so bad for him, he already had no one by his side, and the entire school hates him.

you went up to scaramouche, he immediately notices your presence and looks up at you with an indifferent expression on his face, yet he looked awfully tired.. he took off his headphones and he stared to speak,

“what? here to bully me for having no friends?” you hear him scoff, a frown plays on his lips as he brings his gaze to the floor.

hearing his words made you protest, you would never bully anyone, or even hurt a fly !

“n-no! of course not..” you stammered.

you fiddle with your fingers in nervousness. you always get nervous whenever you talk to new people or when people assume things about you, a slight blush creeps up your cheeks as you think about his words.

the indifference immediately leaves scaramouche’s face once he notices your blushing. he stares at you for a moment before a huge smirk appears on his face.

“ah, so you’re not like all the others?” scaramouche tilts his head back and chuckles.

“huh..?”

you take a seat next to scaramouche’s chair and you bring it closer to him.

“what do you mean by that..?”

“everyone else treats me like i’m sort of monster or freak. you, however, seem different from everyone.”scaramouche leans back in his chair.

“well, you don’t seem like a freak or a monster..”

you were growing increasingly nervous, and as an attempt to calm yourself down, you look down to your lap to hide your nervous and red face and grip the hem of your skirt. you never thought someone would assume you’d bully them— let alone think that you think of them as a freak or a monster!

you can’t help but notice that scaramouche’s eyes trail down to your legs. it’s quite unnerving, and your short skirt doesn’t help much with that either.

as a way to snap out of his thoughts, scaramouche shakes his head and sighs.

“are you just saying that to be nice? what about me isn’t freaky?”

“u-uhm… you seem like a normal person. you look.. um.. cool too..?”

scaramouche looks back at you and raises his eyebrows.

“oh yeah? you think I’m cool?”

you notice him shifting slightly, leaning toward you.

“then, you surely don’t mind me getting closer, right?”

your blush gets heavier the moment you feel scaramouche leaning in closer to you.

“no… not at all.”

scaramouche grins at your response and scoots even closer to you.

“then is it okay if…” he trails off, and his voice gets husky as he leans in. you feel something touch your leg, you look over to see his hand resting on your thigh.

“i suppose so..”

scaramouche’s eyes light up after hearing you agree. you could feel him plant his lips on your neck; a few gentle kisses on your skin.

“how about if i…” scaramouche places a finger along the hem of your short skirt.

a small whimper escapes your lips, you don’t know how to feel about being this close this to someone, you had never been this close or intimate with anyone.

“is it alright for me to… lift your skirt up?”

your eyes widened, you weren’t sure how you’d respond to that, but, if you were going to be honest, scaramouche was making you feel hot down there..

his words made you feel tingly and horny, but his gaze was what was making your panties damp and wet.

“can we.. go to a private room first?”

…who knew it was so easy for you to fall right into scaramouche’s trap?

after successfully making the teacher believe that scaramouche he was taking you to the clinic, he brought you to his dorm, and next, to his bedroom.

SCARAMOUCHE had you on a tight mating press, your clothes on the floor with bits of your orgasm stained onto it. (it got to your clothes because scaramouche had fingered you until you squirted all over the place.)

how could scaramouche have resisted himself? you looked so innocent, and so corruptible, he just had to get his hands on you.

scaramouche groans as he feels your walls clamping down on him for the ‘nth time. it was a sign you were about to have another orgasm, another sign was when your moans get higher-pitched.

the feeling of scaramouche’s cock mercilessly ramming into you was agonizingly pleasurable. you couldn’t think of anything else but him and his cock, your body couldn’t help but just have orgasm after orgasm.

you held tightly onto his shoulders, clinging onto him as if your life had depended on it. scaramouche’s dick was bruising your cervix, fucking you into the mattress, and possibly trying to fuck your brains out.

“does it feel nice being reduced to nothing but a whore?”

scaramouche grabs a handful of your hair, staring at your messy and slutty state. the way you looked so disheveled, the way you were gasping for breath, the way you gave up trying to keep up with scaramouche’s quick and brutal pace.

you looked so helpless and vulnerable under him, his cock ramming into you and you have no choice but to take it like the good girl you are.

“answer me, you whore.”

scaramouche speaks to you with a stern voice, in which you immediately nod your head.

he smirks, letting go of your hair. he speeds up his thrusting, bringing one of his hands down from your waist to your clit, rubbing slow circles on it. you felt the knot in your stomach getting tighter and tighter until,

finally, with just one more snap of scaramouche’s hips, you both reach your intense climax and cum together.

scaramouche continues to sloppily thrust into you, however, it’s much much slower, he continues to thrust until he comes into a full stop.

“oh fuck, you felt so good..”

you both lay there panting, with scaramouche still on top of you. he stares at all the hickeys and bite marks he left on your neck (he also left a lot on your thighs.), feeling proud he had his markings left on you.

“scara..?”

scaramouche snaps out of the daze he was in while he was staring at the markings he left on you—he immediately looks up at you and responds back.

“what is it?”

“can we do things like this… more often?..”

scaramouche chuckles, finding your shyness even after all the rough sex you two just had adorable.

“hmm.. sure.”

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact smut #smut #genshin headcanons #genshin impact scaramouche x reader #genshin scaramouche #scaramouche genshin impact #genshin impact scaramouche #scaramouche genshin #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader #scara #scara x reader #scaramouche #genshin scara #staycait

[sanjisboyfie]

toji fluff hcs.

requested, and i had sm fun writing this bc I DO AGREE ANON the toji x male reader tag is just full of smut atp there is never any fluff T.T i hope u enjoy lovely

toji x male reader <3 takes place before canon (mamaguro kinda dont exist sawry)

— the thing is, toji has a very, very thick wall around his heart and he rarely lets anyone in, ever. that's why! in this hc im gonna say that you two met via his job and just worked really well as partners. and then overtime, the two of you just got closer until finally toji makes a move on you.

the two of you were sitting at a restaurant, going over the recent job that you just finished. toji hummed at what you were saying, taking a swig of his beer as he remained eye contact with you.

recently, he's been seeing you in a different light. recently as in the past couple of months. he's just been taking note of everything you've done and how attractive you are when doing them. after he noticed he was thinking these things, he just accepted the fact he had a major crush on you and shrugged it off.

a part of him expected it to happen - how could he not have some sort of romantic feelings for you when you were so witty, strong, and intelligent. he was bound to catch some feelings for you, whether he wanted to or not.

he accepted it really quickly and decided he wanted to make it obvious sooner or later. the fact was he wouldn't know how you felt unless he initiated something.

so as he sat across from you, elbows resting on the table, until he got an idea.

"got somethin'," he said, motioning to his cheek. before you could wipe it off though, he dragged his thumb over your skin and collected the sauce of the food that you were eating onto his digit. he sucked it clean off, maintaining eye contact with you the entire time. "wait, missed a spot, c'mere,"

he leaned forward, pressing his lips to yours in a quick, chaste kiss before smirking at your stunned expression, "got it,"

after that, you obviously questioned him because what the fuck. toji just shrugs, explains how he's liked you for some time and decided to make it known now. he goes on to explain that since you're both adults, you could compromise a mature way of going about your relationship on the off-chance you didn't like him back (he's shitting bricks when he talks about that part though, you just can't tell-)

you return his feelings after getting over the initial shock.

and that was toji's unromantic way of confessing to you, but still, it got the job done and ever since that day the two of you couldn't be happier.

— contrary to popular belief, i think that toji is a big romantic. when he finds the right person, he wants it to be known that he's interested in them, loyal, and a devoted lover. in his own ways, he gives a lot of romantic attention to you and the time you spend together. even if he's dead broke, he'll find a way to make ends meet in making your relationship feel as special as it is to him.

"c'mon, baby," he goads you into grabbing his hand, rolling his eyes when you shoot him a look. "let's go, the reservation isn't gonna be waiting for anyone else but us,"

"yeah, how did you do this though? toji, this place is so expensive, are you sur-"

he kisses you to shut you up, hand caressing your cheek as he speaks to you in a low voice, "i got it all handled, don't worry about it," that translates to you = i pulled a couple of strings by threatening the boss of this place to let us eat here for free. but you couldn't will yourself to care because it was the thought that counts! plus, he went through all that effort just to secure you two a romantic evening together.

so you ruffled his messy dark locks and allowed him to guide you inside the lavish restaurant. he smirked in content, kissing the top of your head before securing you two your promised table.

—

on your anniversary, he showers you in so much love and affection it's insane. he doesn't have the money to bring about the most lavish celebration, unfortunately, but he does make up for it by being extra doting.

"love you so much," is the first thing he mumbles into your skin. it takes you a second to register why he was being so lovey-dovey, but when you remember it was because the calendar marks two years of officially being together, your heart warms.

toji has a good memory, remembers all the important dates and what you like and don't like. he's got it all stores in his memory under the "everything about [name]" folder there, that has other information such as your food preferences, what you like to wear, what you enjoy watching on TV, etc.

his hands run up and down your sides, pinching your nipple to get you awake and laughing when you smack him with the pillow. "sorry, just wanted to get you up so we don't waste our entire day in bed!"

"what if i wanted to just be in bed with you?" you asked, rubbing your chest with an annoyed look on your face.

"sorry, baby boy, but no can do," toji says, peppering kisses on your face, "got the whole day planned out in my head," you ignore his loving kisses that start trailing to you neck.

"mhm and what's that?"

"it's a surprise, don't ruin it," he warns you in an oddly serious tone, "want to make today special, let me make it special, boy,"

you laugh at his seemingly annoyed tone, but let him have his moment - not pressing for anymore answers.

— not the biggest on public affection, but doesn't hide the fact that he's yours and you're his. always has his arms around your shoulders or waist, sometimes pecks your cheek. but that's as far as it goes with pda. verbally, on the other hand, he's always mentioning you. even in brief interactions with other people, he's slipping mentions of you into conversation with such ease and smoothness.

"will that be all today?" the barista asks, eyeing toji up and down. and he's not a stupid guy, he notices it easily.

so to assert himself, he clears his throat and looks over the menu, "nah, actually, let me get a cinnamon bun for my boyfriend," he says, pulling out his wallet and taking out some cash, "he's been wanting somethin' sweet for a while, so i guess i can treat him to this," he comments, looking back at you with a smile. you were already seated at the table as he ordered, offering him a wave before looking back out the window.

the barista is obviously dejected when he mentions you, but he's nothing but prideful and satisfied. serves her right.

—

"didn't [name] already tell you we won't be taking the job? we got our entire week already planned out, we can't fit in another mission," toji said over the phone. it was one of the rare instances he was turning down the opportunity to make money, but he didn't feel bad or guilty about it.

you and him had a whole week planned together, it's been in the calendar for months now and he wasn't going to ruin the rare one-on-one time he could have with you by being greedy with some extra cash.

in the past, he might've. but you changed him, in a good way. and he wasn't going to make it seem like he valued cash over you because he definitely didn't.

"i wasn't aware that [name] spoke for the both of you? y'know, if you take him out of the equation, toji, you actually make more money-"

toji almost growled, "he fucking said no, that means i said no, too. don't be an asshole right now or i might really get pissed. from now on, whatever my man says think about it as if he's speaking on behalf of both of us. same goes for me. so listen closely when i say this, cause i'm sure he'd say the same thing to you right now: fuck off!"

he hangs up the phone and tosses it onto the table, rubbing his forehead in annoyance.

"everything alright, babe? you were yelling?" you shout from your shared bedroom and toji visibly relaxes after hearing your voice.

"nah, everythin's alright, doll, don't worry about it," he calls back, kicking his feet up onto the table and spreading his arms against the couch cushions, "hurry your ass down here, though, or else i'm starting without you!"

— huge believer in cuddling, loves, loves just holding you in his arms. it's the one time he really feels as if his stress just washes away. he's a big guy, so he usually just ends up completely blanketing over your own body. but usually, he settles for just being the big spoon and staying satisfied like that. sometimes, though, he will want to just have you completely laid out on top of him as you act as some sort of weighted blanket. that's if he's really, really stressed and just needs to be reminded that you're there for him.

his hands rest on your hips as he's laid flat on his back, holding you in place on top of him. you have been struggling to get comfortable for the past five minutes and he had to bite his tongue from saying a snarky comment to you.

"fuck, toji, it's like i'm sleeping on a rock," you complain, pushing yourself up from his torso and glaring at him, "can't i just sleep next to you like a normal person,"

he keeps his eyes shut, not bothering to wake himself from his semi-sleepy state, "[name], just stay still for a second and you'll eventually get sleepy,"

"easy for you to say when you're on the comfort of the mattress,"

"don't you say my boobs make for good pillows or something," he groans, finally cracking one eye open to weakly glare at you, "just use them as your pillows and count fucking sheep,"

"but your-"

"shh, you big baby, i just need this for tonight," he promptly shuts you up but pushing his finger on your lips. in any other instance, that would've just pissed you off even more, but seeing how genuinely tired and needy he was, you let it slide. just this once.

you settled back on his chest, running your fingers up and down his sides to give some sort of comfort.

"love you, toji," you breathe out, barely loud enough for him to hear.

but he does, and he squeezes your sides to show that he did, kissing the top of your head and whispering it back before he's lulled to his own slumber.

— always thinking about you. he's only concerned with you. every single other person in the world can fuck themselves, he just cares about you and wants to make sure you're safe.

"where's [name]?" were the first words he asked their employer, looking around the office space in search of your h/c hair.

"he just went to get himself some water-" as toji is informed of that, he's standing up out of the seat he was in and is going to leave in search of you. "he should be back in a couple short moments,"

"hm, don't care, i'm going to look for him and then we can start this meeting," toji said, not giving another glance to the guy that was going to give the both of you a job to finish.

oddly enough, the meeting was held in a corporate looking building and toji was concerned on your whereabouts. what if these assholes had some fucked up trick up their sleeve and were going to use you as leverage to get to him? toji wouldn't put it past them, he's messed with more than a couple powerful folks back in his day.

it could bite him in the ass someday and he really didn't want to risk that chance affecting you.

"toji? what are you doing here?" you ask, coming towards him with two paper cups of water in your hands.

"looking for you, babe," he easily responds, looking at the water in interest, "where'd that come from?"

"they had pitchers in their breakroom and i decided-"

"could have poision in them," toji said off handedly, looking at the contents and his face screwing up in distaste, "hold off on drinking it for now, these guys can be unpredictable sometimes,"

taking his warnings seriously, you don't sip from the cup at all and walk back with him to the meeting room. his hand rests on your waist protectively as the two of you walk through the halls, glaring at anyone who stares for a bit too long.

like a personal guard dog, toji is always standing at attention and assuming the worst of people. but don't worry, he doesn't mind. if it means it keeps you safe and in his arms, he'll be as paranoid as one can get and not have an issue with that at all.

— at the end of the day, toji doesn't listen to anyone, but you. it's funny how obediant you can get this absolute unit of man to act. he tries not to make it so obvious, but when he's hanging off of every word you say and acting at your beck and call, it's already obvious to everyone around you where his priorities are at.

"toji, don't touch that - the sign says not to touch,"

"if i wanna touch it, i will," toji says with a shrug and smirk. but then he notices the warning look you give him as his fingers inch closer to the display. he clicks his tongue in annoyance, dropping his hand to his side as he muttering under his breath, "didn't wanna even touch it, anyway, tch,"

or another time when he's giving the waiter an earful for not remembering something in your order. he thinks he's doing you a favor by speaking up for you, but in reality, you just didn't want to make the waiter's life harder than it already is.

"he asked specifically for you guys to put it on the side since he doesn't lik-"

"baby, it's fine, just drop it," you sigh, rubbing your forehead with a tired look in your eyes. he's about to protest, a scowl on his face as he thinks about the waiter incompentence. but with one look from you and a calm, "toji, enough," reaching his ears, he's standing down and shutting up.

the waiter shoots you a thankful look before running off to the kitchen with your plate of food, going off to correct his mistakes.

"couldn't hurt you to speak more nicely to people," you say, grabbing his hand across the table and shooting him a look. he scoffs, taking your hand in his and calming himself down using your touch.

toji only ever listens to one person in his life and it's you. you're just really lucky he loves you so much because if it was any other person, he'd be doing their head in. he sighs, thinking of the affects you've had on him and his own steel, hard heart.

he can't help but be thankful. he kisses the back of your hand silently, squeezing it in his hold once more before shooting you a small, barely noticeable smile.

"if that fuck ass even thinks about looking at you with those puppy dog eyes of his one more time, though, i can't promise i won't nail him right in the face," and there's your familiar, stubborn toji back again, easily threatening a poor guy that's just doing his job.

#jjk male reader #jujutsu kaisen male reader #toji male reader #toji x male reader #toji x reader #toji reader #toji fushiguro x male reader #toji fushiguro x reader #GUARD DOG #SCARY DOG PRIVILEGES #TOJI FUSHIGURO EVERYONE #A SECRET SOFTIE FOR HIS BOYFIE #toji fushiguro male reader #toji fluff #toji fushiguro fluff #jjk fluff #toji fushiguro headcanons #toji headcanons

[blindmagdalena]

imagine being hired by vought to be a sort of housekeeper to homelander, doing his laundry and cooking for him in his penthouse. he’d immediately grow to love having someone to come home to, and would automatically slip into husband mode whenever he finds them doing him some wifely act of service (conveniently ignoring the fact they’re paid to be there, of course)

ao3 link

Working for Vought, specifically Homelander, turns out to be an insanely simple gig. Typically, you never even see him. You're free to do your cleaning in peace, picking up after America's favorite hero. He rarely ever leaves a mess, but there's enough to keep you employed. Tidying up his towels, replacing his hygiene supplies and tooth brushes. You're trained specifically on how to clean his suits. You empty and stock the fridge. He goes through a lot of milk. You always make sure to get whole. He lodged a complaint the one time it was less than. You were told initially that your cooking services wouldn't be necessary. Homelander isn't known to be, well... much of an eater.

Still, you didn't want the food you stocked at the start to go bad, so one day you prepare a few meals and put them in containers in the fridge. You include little notes with instructions on how they should be reheated. You sign each one with a little heart simply because that's how you've always done it, and pin them to the fridge. You think nothing of it. Homelander is dumbstruck by it.

At first he's affronted that you would leave him cold food in his fridge and expect him to heat it up for himself, but there's something distinctly... loving about it. Coming home to his laundry clean and his shelves dusted never felt like that. It was nothing more than a reset, an automatic process that he didn't dedicate any thought to. But this? This is personal. This reminds him that a living, breathing person was in his home, tending to it, and that person... cooked him a meal, and left him a little note. With a heart.

The next morning you get a text that you will indeed be cooking for Homelander that evening! You're in the midst of it, staying later than you usually do, when he walks in the door. You aren't making anything fancy, just steak and mashed potatoes, but he sucks in a breath like he's inhaling the scent of a gourmet meal. His smile is broad and gleaming. It makes your heart skip a beat.

To your surprise, he introduces himself. He shakes your hand firmly, and holds your stare as you remember your manners and manage to spit out your own name. "Charmed," he says through that radiant smile, and you feel like he means it. His eyes are somehow much bluer in person. His gaze flickers to the stove, and he clicks his tongue. "Not to question your craft, but is this really enough for two?" Looking at the steak currently searing, you falter. "Oh, I'm sorry, are you having company? No one told me." "Well of course I'm having company, you silly goose. You're standing right here, aren't you?" He asks, putting his hands on his hips. It's cheesy, like a moment straight out of a sitcom, but you fluster anyways. This man has such presence to him.

"You... want me to eat with you?" You ask, bewildered.

"Be a shame to cook up a storm and not even feel the rain," he laughs, as if you're the one thinking strangely here. He's already gone to the fridge, and pulled out a second steak. He offers it out to you with that same charming television ready grin. "C'mon. I can hear your stomach growling."

Tentatively, you take the package from him. "Okay."

That night, and each night that follows, you cook Homelander a meal at the tail-end of your shift, and sit down to eat with him. It's surreal, but after the second night, it occurs to you that you've never once seen sign of him having company. There's never extra dishes, or towels. No remnants of a party in the trash. If he does have friends, they're certainly never here.

You can't help but wonder if he's lonely. The thought humanizes him from the larger than life image you had of him in your mind, and you have an easier and easier time engaging him in conversation. He's funny, if not a little strange. There are times when you don't really know how to respond to the things he says, but he often moves on quickly enough to keep things from being awkward.

Truth be told, you're starting to quite enjoy his company.

Homelander begins showing up earlier and earlier into your shifts. The next week, it's barely after 4:00pm when he strides through the door, greeting you with a chipper, "Heya!" and a little salute.

You turn off the vacuum, and despite being a little caught off guard, you smile at him. For the first time, you say, "Welcome home!"

For a second, you worry you've said something wrong. That smile slips off his face, and he stands frozen a touch too long in the doorway. However, before you can add an amendment, his lips stretch back out and he closes the door behind him. "Good to be home," he says. There's less of that showmanship in his voice, you think.

"I didn't know you'd be home so early, I haven't finished-" "Oh, don't mind me, you do your thing. Pretend I'm not even here," he insists, taking a seat on his couch.

You expect him to occupy himself in some way. A book, perhaps, or even just his cellphone. Instead, for the next hour you're keenly aware of the fact the only thing he seems to be entertaining himself with is you.

After that, you cook dinner as usual, and the two of you eat amidst pleasant, casual conversation. It's the same as any other night, and yet somehow this evening feels distinctly different. You can't name exactly what it is, but something has changed.

Homelander begins filling out your time with new requests; he's suddenly become quite fascinated with plants. You had mentioned to him before that you like to keep them, despite the work they take. Your shifts grow longer to account for your new tasks.

All the while, he's been more and more present during your shifts. Although he doesn't directly take or distract you from your chores, you're always keenly aware of of his gaze on you while you work. You try not to overthink it, but the weight of his attention is heavy nonetheless.

One day, you're sweeping up a mess of spilled dirt, struggling to maneuver around the legs of a piece of furniture, when Homelander hops up to intervene. "Let me get that for you, sweetheart," he says, lifting the entire cabinet up as if it weighed nothing at all.

You lose yourself for a moment, standing dumbfounded before abruptly remembering to sweep the dirt out from under it, your heart racing. Your mind keeps replaying the pet name, and with every echo of it, your cheeks feel redder. Homelander smiles, watching you all the while. The next day, you arrive to find an enormous bouquet of roses sitting in a vase on the kitchen counter. There's a note with your name on it, and a simple message: Thanks for all your hard work. Keep it up! The note is signed with Homelander's sprawling signature. Smiling widely to yourself, you tuck the note into your pocket, and lean in to inhale the sweet smell of the flowers. On another occasion, it's time to clean the blades of the ceiling fan in his room, but you can't find that darn step ladder anywhere. Homelander must hear the way you're shuffling around and muttering under your breath—you swear the man hears everything—because he steps in to check on you. "Everything alright in here?" He asks, peeking in from the doorway. "Oh, fine, fine, I just can't find my step ladder anywhere. Have you seen it?" You ask, feeling flustered. Getting put behind schedule never fails to trip a thread of anxiety in your chest. "Can't say I have," he answers, stepping inside. He looks around the room. "What'cha need it for?" "Ceiling fan. Uhm, it's okay, I'll get to it later, if that's alright with you? I'm sorry, I could have sworn I left that ladder-" You stop yourself, realizing Homelander is suddenly striding directly towards you. Uncertain, you begin to take a step back, but he's fast. He puts an arm around you, and without warning you're being hoisted up into his arms as easily as a doll.

"Up y'go," he says, supporting not only your weight with ease, but resting you snug against his chest. You squeeze your knees together, arms pulled in tight, as if making yourself tiny will somehow protect you from the embarrassing quicken of your breath, or the rampant beat of your heart. "There you go. Who needs a step ladder when you've got me?" He asks, grinning down at you with that familiar dazzling spread of pearly whites. His smile feels better suited to a Hollywood audience than this quiet little moment, but the only thing you can really focus on is the fresh, woodsy smell of his cologne. "Uhm, I-I still don't think I can reach-" You stop, noticing the ceiling fan is now within arms reach. "Oh." Looking down, your eyes widen. Neither of your feet are touching the ground. Instead, Homelander is hovering well above it, holding you adjacent to the fan. You can't help the nervous laughter that suddenly bubbles out of you. "Oh my god," you laugh, looking around. "You're flying!" "As I'm known to do from time to time," he says, voice dripping with satisfaction. His gloved fingers tap absently at your waist, basking in your awe over what is, to him, a wholly unremarkable feat. The sheer normalcy of you makes his every move seem a marvel. He savors your wonder. You're so enamored with the novelty of it, you remember belatedly why you're up here. Clearing your throat, you reach up with the duster, and gently spin the fan, collecting the strands of dust and the like that had gathered on each one. You try your damnedest to focus on that, and not the fact Homelander's face is less than a foot from yours. Out of your peripheral, you can see that his grin has softened into a content, absent smile. Your stomach does cartwheels as you finish dusting the fan, bringing the duster back down. You clear your throat again, pretending it's not a nervous habit. "All done, thank you," you say quietly, smiling back at him.

"Any time, sweetheart," Homelander purrs. There it is again, that coy little nickname that sends your mind into a tizzy. As if that weren't bad enough, he winks at you, floating gently back down to the ground. Your legs feel so much like jelly, you worry you'll collapse the moment you're on your feet. Luckily, even once he's set you down, he leaves a hand lingering on your back. "You got a thing with heights? Your heart's pounding," he points out, much to your mortification. You try to laugh it off. "Oh, no! No, just wasn't expecting it. I'm fine with heights," you say, fumbling with the duster for a second before slipping it back into the cover. "Good," Homelander responds, an oddly cryptic depth to his tone. His smile lingers. "That's good. Alrighty, I'll leave you to it," he says, tipping his head in a polite little nod before he heads for the door, leaving you to your own devices, and the rapid fluttering in your stomach. Later that same day, you're thoroughly perplexed when you spot the step ladder exactly where it's supposed to be, certain you had checked there a dozen times over.

Two weeks from the day you first shared a meal, he presents you with a gift after dinner. "Oh, sir, you shouldn't-" "Please, please! Don't be so formal. It's just a little thing," he says, waving his hand dismissively. "Y'know, to show my appreciation. You take such good care of me. Just wanted to return the favor." Butterflies swarm rampant in your gut as you tug loose the pretty red ribbon tied around the box. Uncertain of what to expect, you feel a measure of relief when you lift the lid, and see a lovely apron folded inside it. "You wear this print a lot, figured you could use something, you know, matchy. Feminine," he says, gesturing vaguely with his hand. "Your other one's seen better days."

You exhale a soft laugh, touching the fabric. It's soft beneath your fingers, and of excellent quality. The gift is a thoughtful one, and it feels appropriate, despite what the expensive looking wrapping made you think. "You like it?" He asks after a beat, snapping you out of your thoughts. "I do! Yes, thank you. It's very nice. I've enjoyed working for you, sir—" You stop when he points a finger at you, his brows raised, and you correct, "—Homelander." He smiles, dropping his hand. "And eating with you. I can't say any of my other clients cared whether or not I ate," you say, chuckling. You think you see his nose twitch strangely at the mention of your other clients.

"Right, well! C'mon, let's see how it looks," he says, taking you by the shoulders and guiding you over to the mirror near the floor to ceiling windows that overlook the city. Homelander takes the box from your hands and presents it to you, allowing you to lift the apron up and let it unfold. Odd, it feels a touch heavier than you expected. You sling it around your neck, but before you can reach back to tie it, Homelander has taken it upon himself to do it for you. He cinches it at your waist with a sharp little tug, grinning at you from over your shoulder as he meets your eye in the mirror. "Loooook at that, perfect fit," he purrs, tying the ends off. "It's beautiful, thank y—" Smoothing your hands down the front of it, you stop. There's something in the right pocket of the apron. Glancing up, Homelander has a mischievous glint to his expression, but his brows raise, and his lips curl down. He's playing dumb.

Curiously, you slip your hand into the pocket, and feel smooth velvet against your fingers. Wrapping your hand around a firm rectangle, you draw it out, and feel your stomach flip as you stare at the distinctly luxurious looking black box now in your hands. "Oh, geeze, totally forgot that was even in there," Homelander says. His tone is terribly unconvincing, but he does sound very pleased with himself. "Whelp, you've already accepted, so I guess it's yours now." "I—" "Go on," he urges, giving your shoulders a little shake. He's watching you eagerly through the mirror. "Open it up. It's all yours."

Swallowing, you crack the box back on it's hinges. Your jaw drops, your chest tightens. You stare at the shimmering three-stone drop diamond necklace in utter disbelief. You don't even feel Homelander let go of your shoulders, or hear him slide off and drop his gloves to the nearby table. "Oh my god," you whisper. You probably couldn't afford the box this thing was sold in, let alone a single stone on it. "I don't think I can accept this, sir," you say, slipping back into the habit of formality as your brain struggles to catch up to reality.

"Oop, too late for that," Homelander dismisses, plucking the delicate necklace up from the fabric it lay in. "Here, allow me," he says, ignoring your shellshock while he drapes the necklace against your skin, his bare fingers brushing the back of your neck as he gets it fastened.

Breathless, you tentatively touch the bottom diamond. Your mouth feels full of cotton, and your heart is racing. Is this really happening?

Meanwhile, Homelander grips your upper arms, beaming. "Look at you. You know what they say about diamonds; they're a girl's best friend," he laughs, those canines of his looking sharper than ever.

Giving your arms a squeeze, Homelander leans close to your ear. "Happy two weeks," he whispers, the heat of his breath on your neck prickling goosebumps all the way down your spine. "Thank you," you whisper back, pushing out a bewildered little smile.

Homelander lingers there a moment, the warmth of his hands on your arms seeping through the fabric of your shirt. His smile has relaxed some, and his gaze is slightly distant as he looks you up and down in the mirror. You see a flash of pink as he wets his bottom lip with his tongue. It isn't until you clear your throat that his eyes snap back up to yours, regaining presence of mind. "I should get going," you say gently. His fingers flex on your arms, and the corners of his mouth twitch. "Right," he says, lips pulling into a thin smile that doesn't reach his eyes. This is always his least favorite part of the night. With obvious reluctance, he drops his hands from your arms. "Right, ah, let me—" "Unless..." You interject, turning to face him. Homelander's brows shoot up to his hairline. He blinks. "Unless...?" "Unless you'd like me to stay," you say quietly, your stomach tying itself in knots. "Not as your housekeeper, but maybe as just... Company?"

"Company," he echoes, his parted lips slowly drawing into a smile. This one does reach his eyes. "We could watch a movie."

"I like movies," you say. The words sound dumb to you as soon as they leave your lips, but Homelander looks at you like you've just spun a beautiful sonnet. "Great, I have movies," he says, putting a hand on your lower back as he gestures you to the living room. His smile is broad now, eager and a touch boyish. You feel a little surge of endearment amidst the adrenaline. "What do you want to watch?" "Dealers choice," you say, slipping out of the apron before you take a seat at the couch. Homelander immediately busies himself with the television, flipping through Vought+'s enormous repertoire.

Still in a mild daze, you don't process any of the titles that fly by on the screen. Instead, you're hyper aware of the weight of the necklace hanging from your throat, and the lingering heat that Homelander's hands left on your skin.

So much for a simple gig.

#i was absolutely POSSESSED by the spirit of this ask lmao #homelander x you #homelander x reader #darling anon #ask and you shall receive #fluff #my writing #i blacked out and posted this immediately #so im sorry if it’s a mess I will fix it in the morning lmao

[eggyrocks]

bloody nose: kuroo x calloused hands reader

calloused hands masterlist // main masterlist

warnings: violence, blood, swearing; grammatical errors, not proofread, i wrote this just for me so it's probably not great

an: here it is. my self indulgent bonus chapter that’s got my fingers itching. i wanted to write this so fucking bad i genuinely do not even care if it’s good tbh; im sure if you wanted to read this without reading all of calloused hands u could but it’s probably better in context

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧

their set's not going well.

it might have something to do with the venue; it's a small, cramped basement bar with only one way out and one way in-the old and creaking staircase that looks like it's one bad day away from collapsing. it might be the fact that the bouncer's stopped counting heads and the bar's way over capacity. could be the hot humid air that's suffocating them and only getting worse with each person that claws their way towards the band.

but it's probably the heckler.

yn's generally not really bothered by that sort of thing. it's not like this is the first one she's ever dealt with; normally she'll just play over them until they learn their lesson and keep their mouths shut during their sets.

but the bar's fucking tiny and so ungodly packed and hot it's making her just a bit more irritable than usual. every couple of minutes there's some sweaty dude from the pit getting knocked into her and knocking her hand off her guitar, throwing her off and making her fuck up. it's irritating. it's frustrating. she knows her bandmates are getting fucking sick of it too. tanaka's broken more drum sticks than usual.

so when the heckler starts up again, she doesn't really have any self-restraint.

"you guys fucking suck!" comes his voice, ripping through the crowd in between songs.

yn leans up close to the mic until her lips are ghosting over the cool metal. "uhh, suck my dick," she murmurs into the mic, hearing it echo throughout the small space.

she ignores the crowd's reactions and leans back on her heels to make eye contact with yachi. yachi, who, like yn, got so sick of the heat and had to abandon her outer layer of clothes in favor of her sports bra. just one look at her sweat-soaked friend and yn can tell she is just as miserable as she is.

"heckling us won't make us play better," nishinoya says into his own mic, "we're going to suck no matter what you say."

"why doesn't your guitar player suck my dick!"

the reaction is half boos and half laughter, and yn does her best not to react the way she wants to. she just fiddles with her guitar while nishinoya lets out a string of curses and threats into the mic. he kepts it short, though, they've got a show to get on with.

yn wishes she could spot kuroo. she knows he's out there somewhere in the crowd; she keeps hoping to catch a glimpse of his distinctive silhouette-just seeing him there would help her calm down. just a bit.

kuroo's good at making things better for her. he always does it, even when he's not trying.

but all she can see over the lights that shine in her eyes is a shapeless mass of huddled bodies, indistinguishable and formless. she can't pick out kuroo. she can't see his face and she can't calm down.

"this next song's called rot," nishinoya anounces, and ignores the glare yn shoots him. he's fucking around with their setlist again. "it's about dying and getting eating by worms."

tanaka counts them in, and yn tries to focus all of her energy on playing. she's hoping to take her frustrations out on her guitar; and either way, she always plays great when she's in a bad mood.

but they're not even half-way through the first verse when yn notices something whipping over the heads of the audience. in a fraction of a second, she realizes it's a beer can. sixteen ounces.

and then, the next second, it's hitting her in the temple.

her hand leaves her instrument and flies to cup the spot she got hit. the beer can hits the floor and it's spraying sudsy, warm alcohol all over her. she crouches down in pain, trying to blink away the hot, thick liquid that now drips down into her eye.

there's a hand on her shoulder, and the sweet words of concern in her ear confirm that it's yachi. yn tries to stand up straight, despite the dizzying pain radiating in her skull, and tries to get a look at what's happening in front of her.

strangers are trying to crowd her, to get close to offer help or see if she's okay or just get a better look at exactly what happened. nishinoya is pushing people away, telling them to back the fuck up, now. tanaka's grabbing yn by the shoulder and trying to keep her steady. yachi's pressing one of their discarded tshirts against yn's forehead, trying to slow the bleeding.

and there's a familiar outline of bedhead, stomping up the stairs of the bar, dragging a protesting body behind him.

haphazardly, yn rips wires out of her guitar and shoves herself forward, elbowing her away through the swarms of people, leaving behind her bandmates, bloodied tshirt, and still fizzing can of beer.

once she climbs up the stairs and out of that basement, the cool air is on her skin, on sweat, on the beer-soaked clothes she's left in, and she's suddenly freezing.

but she doesn't really focus on that. yn just stands there and stares as kuroo, her beautiful kuroo, holds the heckler up by his collar, sneering at him. "what the fuck is wrong with you?" he screams into the trembling face of the other man. "you could've killed her!"

"it wasn't supposed to hit her!" he insists, and suddenly does not have the smug edge to his voice he did when he was telling yn to suck his dick. "it was an accident, dude!"

yachi appears at yn's side then, mouth open like she's about to ask if yn's okay, but she stops at the scene before her, just taking yn's hand in hers.

kuroo's grip on his collar is tight, and if the bruising on his knuckles or the bleeding of the heckler's mouth are any indication, he may have already gotten a hit in. he doesn't look away from the man in his grip. "yn, are you bleeding?"

she squeezes yachi's hand. "yeah," is her casual answer. she winces, blood sill trickling down her face, and the pain in her head still throbs.

"kiyoko's looking for something to stop the bleeding," yachi tells him, a nervous tremor. "tanaka's getting the van so he can drive her to the hospital-she's gonna need stiches."

kuroo lets him go, then. dropping him so quickly that the heckler only just gets his bearings before kuroo is pulling his fist back and then slamming it into the nose of the heckler. there's a pleasant crunch. yn tries to appreciate the sight of it, but she's just getting so damn lightheaded.

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧

by the time they get out of the hospital, the sun has started rising. kuroo's driving the band's van with one hand on the wheel and the other gripping onto his girlfriend's thigh.

her bandmates, who insisted on staying with them the whole night, are now sleeping in the back, and their not soft and not gentle snores are fill the van.

yn looks over at kuroo and grins. she reaches towards him and gently carsses the cut that stretches across his nose. "you got battle scars now. can't believe you headbutted that guy."

he scoffs. keeping his palm flat on the wheel, he stretches out his fingers and examines the the scabbing over his knuckles. "my hands were starting to hurt and i need them for volleyball. i was running out of options."

"it was really hot, by the way," she tells him, teeth poking through broad smile. kuroo flicks his eyes away from the road for just a second to see it. "you were all bloody and sweaty like, 'oh, i'm gonna fucking kill you that's my girlfriend,'" she says, in a poorly done imitation of kuroo.

he laughs. "im just glad you're okay. if you had gotten a concussion i would've had to track him and down and give him one of his own."

"you need more than a beer can to take me down," she boasts. and then, without much warning, leans over towards the driver's seat to place a kiss on kuroo's cheek. "thanks for beating the shit out of that guy for me."

"i'll always beat the shit out of someone for you, babe," he tells her, only half-joking. "you're my girl. of course i will."

she smiles, and places her hand on top of his, resting her head on top of his arm. "i'm totally gonna fuck the shit out of you after i sleep for like, twelve hours, by the way."

kuroo smirks, and from the back, through a haze of sleepiness and snores, nishinoya says, "you guys are fucking gross."

taglist: @wyrcan @rieieieieieiei @thechaosoflonging @publicbathroompanic @bedeater @rottingt1tz @rintarawr @deluluforcarlos55 @ahseyy @localgaytrainwreck @cherrypieyourface @baskin-robinhoods @nnnyxie @cr4yolaas @httpakkeiji @macchiatomegumi @hikikaimar @noodleswastaken @garden-of-bri @rinaheartss @infinitelytimebound @scxrcherr @eyes-ofhell @sleepy-time @polish-cereal @literally-a-ferret @crownj1min @sereniteav @kozuskitten @02shuuu @rasisarchive @marzzn @barricadesenthusiast @yvjitadori @yeehawslap @phoenix-eclipses @lcvestays @thirtykiwis @kitty-m30w @causenessus @notsaelty (i wasn't sure if i should include the taglist since this is just a bonus chapter but u know what. fuck it. here u guys go).

#kuroo x reader smau #haikyuu smau #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #hq x reader #hq x you #hq #kuroo smau #kuroo tetsuro x you #kuroo tetsuro fluff #kuroo x you #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #Spotify

[luuuuucyscorner]

𝐂𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐞- 𝐀𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐲 𝐕𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐧

Info: Ant asks reader on a date

Tags: Kissing, fluff

word count: 9970

gif by me

“ Oi! Wait I gotta ask you something! ”

Ant calls out as you are about to leave SLTs since the class was over for today.

"sure Ant, whats up?" you turn and smile brightly at the erratic boy.

“You know I've wanted to talk to you for a while now, and uh… well, you have really nice soft-looking hair,” Ant nervously begins, fidgeting with his pencil. “I don’t know how to say this, but… do you want to hang out sometime? Maybe grab a coffee or something?” He tries to muster up the courage to ask you out, blushing slightly.

"Anthony Vaughn are you asking me out?" you ask teasingly.

“Err… yeah, umm, I guess that's what it is!” Ant responds, trying to hide his embarrassment with a laugh. “It's just that, I've seen you around, and well, you seem like a cool person to talk to. And besides, you're mesmerizing.” He takes a deep breath, attempting to gain some composure. “So, what do you say? Fancy getting some coffee together?”

"sure cutie, when and where?" you ask excitedly.

“Uh, wow, you actually said yes! I didn't think id get this far... How does tomorrow afternoon at, like, two o'clock sound?” Ant asks, clearly relieved and happy at your response. “We can meet at the Starbucks near school, okay?” he suggests shyly, he gives you a thumbs-up, trying to act casual but still beaming with joy inside.

"two? alright perfect ill see you there cutie" you smile at his jittery performance.

“Sure thing, then! Thanks for agreeing to this; I promise I won't annoy you too much,” Ant chuckles nervously, “See you tomorrow at two, and try not to be late or you'll hear it from me!” He playfully teases, grinning widely at the thought of spending time with you. “I better get going now, though. See ya!”

he runs off down the hall, bumping into people and as you watch Ant run away, you can't help but laugh at his adorable clumsiness. You gather your things and start walking home, feeling a mix of excitement and amusement about your upcoming coffee date.

...

the next day you call Amerie and Harper over to help you choose what to wear and to do your make up. Harper sits behind you, on hair duty and Amerie is lying on your bed sucking a lollipop and chattering about nonsense.

Amerie rolls her eyes at Harper's choice of eyeshadow, but she appreciates the effort. “No way, that shade doesn't suit you! You should go for something more natural, like this one.” She grabs another palette and starts applying it to you, giving you a reassuring smile. “Hey, so are you nervous about meeting Ant or just excited?” She inquires between bites of her lollipop.

Harper, meanwhile, is concentrating on styling your hair, trying different looks until she finds one that complements your outfit and makeup perfectly. “Almost got it! Just need to fix those flyaways,” she mumbles, using a comb to neaten up your locks.

As you chat and prepare for your date, you can't help but feel grateful for their company and support. The three of you share laughs and banter throughout the process, making the experience enjoyable despite the slight nerves.

"I'm sort of nervous, hes so sweet and i want it to go well. but im super excited!" you tell them.

“Oh, come on, you're gonna knock him off his feet, don't worry!” Amerie exclaims confidently, finishing up your makeup and stepping back to assess her work. “Look at you now, looking stunning and ready to conquer the world!” She giggles.

Harper nods in agreement, running her fingers through your locks one last time. “Definitely, you deserve someone who treats you well and adores you. And if anyone can handle Ant's quirks, it's you!” She grins, handing you a mirror to check your hair.

The trio high-fives each other, celebrating your new look and the anticipation of your date. As you head out the door, Amerie gives you a quick hug, telling you to have fun. Harper waves goodbye, wishing you luck with a thumbs-up.

...

On the bus ride to the coffee shop, you can't help but fidget with your clothing, ensuring everything is in place. As you glance around, you notice other students and adults going about their daily routines, which makes you feel even more self-conscious. Taking a deep breath, you remind yourself that Ant likes you for who you are and that you shouldn't let anxiety ruin the moment.

When you arrive at the Starbucks, you spot Ant standing near the entrance, waiting patiently with two cups of coffee in his hands. He smiles brightly when he sees you approach, waving hello.

you smile widely back "hey cutie! is that for me?" you motion to the cup in his hand

“Of course, it's for my gorgeous date!” Ant replies enthusiastically, handing you a cup. “I took the liberty of ordering our drinks already, hope you don't mind. It's a vanilla latte, your favorite, right?” He asks, hoping he remembered correctly. “Come on, we can find a table and get comfortable.”

you follow him to a secluded table outside, "you remembered my order? i mentioned it like, one time two terms ago" you say, surprised.

“Of course, I remember all the important details like that!” Ant responds proudly, pulling out a chair for you. “Plus, you know, I might have stalked your social media accounts a little…” He admits sheepishly, laughing nervously. “But seriously, I'm glad I could remember something you like. Settle in, and let's enjoy this beautiful day!” He motions to the sunny weather and cozy atmosphere around you.

"ever the charmer Ant" you giggle, taking a sip of your drink.

Sitting across from you, Ant watches you take a sip and seems pleased with your reaction. “So, what's been going on in your life lately? Any exciting news or plans?” He inquires, trying to strike up conversation and learn more about you. “And hey, don't worry about being perfect or anything. Just be yourself, because, well, I like you for who you are.” He adds genuinely, his eyes never leaving yours.

"i know ant, and same goes for you cutie" you tell him. then "and nah not too much going on recently, what about you?"

“Thanks, I appreciate that!” Ant replies warmly, smiling softly. “Well, I've been focusing on my studies lately. Trying to improve my grades so I can impress my parents, you know how it is.” He chuckles. “Besides that, I've been drawing comics in my free time, trying to turn it into something bigger someday.” He explains, feeling more relaxed discussing his passion. “What about you? Any big dreams?"

"god i dont know. make it out of highschool?" you laugh "id love to get into journalism maybe?"

“Journalism? That sounds amazing!” Ant comments, genuinely interested. He expresses his opinion, sipping his own drink thoughtfully. “If you ever need help with proof-reading or anything, just let me know. I'd be more than willing to assist.” His eyes light up, eager to show support. “What kind of music do you listen to?"

"oh well you know, a little bit of everything. i love some Indie stuff though, like Mac the Knife and Royel Otis" you tell him animatedly.

“Mac the Knife and Royel Otis?! Awesome taste, I'm impressed!” Ant cheers, raising his cup in approval. “I've heard of both artists, they're quite talented. There's something unique about Indie music that resonates with me too.” He shares his preference, leaning in a little closer. “Anyway, I'm glad we have something in common. Maybe we can exchange some songs later?” His smile widens, suggesting a future bonding opportunity. “So, any plans for the coming weekend?”

"sure id love that!" you say "and nah no plans, probably just going to see what Harper and Am are doing and go from there"

“Perfect, I'll send you a few tracks tonight then,” Ant promises, jotting down a mental note. “Ah, I see. Well, hopefully, you have a blast hanging out with your friends. What do they usually get up to on weekends?” He inquires curiously, wanting to understand your friend group dynamics better. “And after this date, maybe we can catch a movie or grab dinner? Just a friendly suggestion.” He adds, subtly extending an invitation for future plans.

you groan "as much as id love to, it'll have to be another time. my parents want me back before dark to go to some event" you roll your eyes.

“An event, huh? Sounds fancy,” Ant remarks, trying not to show disappointment. “Well, if it's important to your family, I totally understand. We can definitely plan something else soon, no pressure.” He offers, maintaining a positive attitude. “Maybe next weekend? that is if Harper and Amerie cant make it” He suggests, keeping his hopes alive. “Hope you enjoy the event though, even if it means cutting our time short.”

"next weekend is perfect cutie!" you confirm.

“Next weekend it is then!” Ant exclaims, visibly relieved and excited. “I'll make sure to plan something extra special for our second date. Just give me some time and I'll do my best.” He promises, eager to make it memorable. "

thanks for understanding about the event. Can't argue with family obligations, right?” you tell him.

 He chuckles, accepting the situation gracefully. “Alright, shall we finish our coffees and part ways then?”

"yeah! thank you for the fantastic afternoon ant" you say genuinely

“My pleasure, honestly. I had a great time too!” Ant replies earnestly, wiping away a stray crumb from your lip. “Remember, I'm here for you if you ever just need a friend or someone to talk to. And I'll see you next weekend” He confirms, offering a reassuring smile. “Take care, and have fun at the event tonight. Don't forget to text me pictures!” He playfully insists, enjoying the playful banter. “Safe journey home!”

you share a warm embrace and just as he pulls away, you press a kiss to his cheek "you too cutie" you tease

Caught off guard, Ant's face turns bright red, but his smile remains as wide as ever. “Wow, you're bold, huh?” He chuckles, playfully swatting your arm. “I'll see you soon, then. Take care and have a fabulous time at the event!” He repeats, still feeling the warmth of your lips on his cheek. “Goodbye, lovely!” And with that, Ant heads off, his heart pounding with excitement and anticipation for their next encounter.

#spencer white #spider white #spider heartbreak high #spencer 'spider' white #heartbreak high #hbh #ameria wadia #ayesha madon #asher yasbincek #bryn chapman parish #anthony “ant” vaughn #ant vaughn #anthony vaughn #darren rivers #harper mclean #smut #fanfic #spencer white x reader #spider x reader #luuuuucyscorner #anthony vaughn x reader

[themotherofhorses]

im begging you, dark!aemond bodyguard of the president/king’s innocent daughter omggggg

pairing: bodyguard!aemond targaryen x president's daughter!reader

warnings: explicit language. oral sex. loss of virginity (kinda). daddy kink. slight breeding and housewife kink. small mentions of past obsessive tendencies on aemond's part.

notes: hello, long time no write. consider this me using this request like i'm saddling the horse after getting thrown off.

(also ik aemond might not seem AS dark as other times but like pretty pls read between the lines. thank you ☺️)

masterlist

For being the nation’s current president, your father was quite the fucking fool of a man.

He loves you, truly. How could he not? You were the spitting image of your late mother, and the youngest of his children- his sweet little chick that was barely beginning to spread her wings and leave the nest. He would never forgive himself if you ever got hurt due to his elected role as the commander-in-chief and head of state.

That was the main reason why he hired Aemond Targaryen as your personal bodyguard.

The man had a commendable record behind him, despite his young age. Your father was beyond impressed with him when he first interviewed him for the job. Two tours in the U.S. army as a sergeant and sniper before receiving an honorable discharge and a Purple Heart due to an eye injury while seeing combat overseas. According to some of the everyday politicians, he threw himself over his younger nephew during an ambush with enemy fire, and took a massive chunk of bomb shrapnel to the left side of his face; doctors saved him, of course, but his eye was too damaged to save.

They offered him a glass eye and a fully paid scar revision (along with special vet benefits and apparently some hush-hush money as well), but he refused it all. Instead, he accepted the purple heart, crammed a pretty and shiny sapphire into his empty socket, and made sure everyone- military personnel and civilian altogether- looked him in both eyes whenever they addressed him.

The rumors were true- Sergeant Aemond One-Eye was as terrifying as he was deadly.  

Perhaps that was the reason why it did not take very long for him to be buried between your thighs.

You never had a boyfriend before, always too devoted towards your college academic and hobbies, and way too protected and overshadowed by your father. But it was Aemond who stole your first kiss, two months into his new job as your bodyguard. He had been accompanying you on a small shopping trip to the mall, treating it as a sort of bonding experience. When you had mentioned the new lip gloss you were trying out (it was flavored ‘chai latte’), he had asked to taste it.

Okay! you giggled, thinking nothing of it; only for it to be a week later and with his head in between your thighs, eating you out like a starved man.

“Stop it…! Aemond! My daddy might walk in!” You cried, tossing your head back against the pillows as you bit down on your bottom lip to stop the moans from tumbling out. It was all in stupid vain; your bodyguard had you putty in his hands. Anything he wanted, you would happily give him- yourself included. “A-Aemond…!” How could he ever stop? Not when you sounded oh so fucking pretty, so sweet and yummy, his newfound favorite meal served to him on a silver platter, just ready to be completely devoured.

Aemond shook his head. “I don’t give the tiniest shit, babygirl,” he muttered as he sucked on your clit, only pausing every few seconds to kiss your soaked pussy. He had to be soft as well, considering this was a fucking dream come true for him.

The poor bastard remembered all the times he saw you on the television, in those paparazzi photos and the Christmas cards and those gorgeous social media posts of yours. No one would ever understand just how badly he wanted you, and the lengths he went just to have you.

And, well, maybe you should’ve thought first before stepping out in that sinful, short-cut and backless blue dress, the one that made you look perfect for him to knock up, his pretty little housewife. Perfect for him. Made for him. He kept your legs wide open with the tightest grips as he feasted on your cunt, ignoring your desperate (but adorable) attempts to push him away.

“If you can’t handle this, how will you handle my cock?” he tutted. “Poor baby, I’m going to fucking destroy you.”

Everything made your pretty face scrunch up in pleasure, especially when you felt him lick a large stripe up your pussy before he shoved his face in only deeper. You squealed, hiding your face from behind your hands. You could feel his nose, his chin, the heavy pants and low growls and soft kisses he peppered along inner thighs. “And what did I say to call me?” before he gave your ass a hard spank.

You whimpered, already on the verge of sobbing. Fat tears were streaking down your cheekbones. “I-I’m sorry…s-so sorry, daddy!”

Oh but your entire body felt like it was lit on fire- a burning yet tightening sensation nestled deep within your belly. It was so strange. You didn’t know what to make of it. Your head lolled to the side while your back arched up from the bed and your hand found Aemond’s long, whitish-blond hair.

(A common genetic mutation in his family, according to him. Some of the politicians mocked it as the ‘new Habsburg jaw’. You thought it made him look all the godlier.)

His hands soon slid up to your breast, palming and tweaking your nipples between his fingers. Your toes curled as you felt ready to explode at any second. “Daddy!” you mewled, peering down through teary eyes to watch as his face shook side-to-side. His own face held sheer bliss, especially when he brought a finger to trace along your drenched folds. “Daddy…! Daddy! Ah, gods, please!”  

“Yeah, that is right, pretty baby, I’m your new daddy now.”

Your father was none the wiser to the fact that, every night, his youngest daughter’s bodyguard had her in a mating press every night, whispering into her ear that it would not be long until she made him into a real daddy.

It was the least you could do in return, considering he was protecting your life with his.

After boring meetings and countless banquets and your a.m. college classes, Aemond would be quick to shove your panties in your mouth before bending you over the nearest furniture set.

You were his.

All his.

His pretty baby, his sweet little future housewife, the girl whose picture he used to secretly carry in one of the vest pockets during his days in the military.  

One day, your father pulled him aside and offered him a bonus.

“Truth is, son, you’re doing such a fine job at protecting her. I don’t worry as much as I did before you came along. We could not ask for a better bodyguard, Sergeant,” he admitted, patting him on the back. “Would there be anything you’d like in payment? A vacation? A bonus? Some free time with your family? I know you miss your mother very much; my little girl told me.”

But Aemond shook his head, declining everything. “Sir, with all due respect, your daughter feels like my new family now, considering how close we’ve grown in these past several months, and my duty in keeping her safe. I would prefer to remain by her side if you would allow it,” he said, and your father gave him a cheeky grin.

“Should I perhaps be worried, Sergeant?”

“Of course not, Mr. President. I adore your daughter, but only as a brother would his little sister.”

So it was true, it seemed- your father, bless his heart, was quite the fucking fool of a man. It should’ve been no surprise to him at all that seven months down the line from his conversation with your bodyguard, you would be trying to hide a swollen baby bump from everyone's eyes.

And if he really was smart, then he would’ve remembered the reason why the Targaryens were so often compared to the old Habsburgs of Austria.

#aemond targaryen x reader #dark!aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond smut #dark aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine #hotd imagine #request #vic writes 🧸

[tremendum]

So glad you're back bestie! I just read Personal Lies [it was so so good! Thank you for the tag] and it made me imagine Dark!DBF!Joel sneaking into your room at night to use you.

You're asleep laying on your side, he crosses your arms over your chest and then crosses his own over yours to keep you pinned against him 👀👀

omg hiiiiii thank you bb!!! so happy to be back :') hope ur doing well and thanks for the love <33

also holy shit this has plagued my mind for days since i got this omfg. i got carried away bc this idea is sooo yummy thank you and god bless. i honestly dont know what this is im sorry can be read on its own or as part two to Personal Lies!

rating: explicit. (18+. mdni.)       word count: 1k  warnings: smut, dark!DBF!Joel, sort-of cnc, somnophilia, age gap (reader is 23+ & Joel is unspecified older), manhandling (Joel holds reader so they can't move), so much dirty talk, pet names - sugar, darling, pretty - degradation, dom!joel & sub reader. creampie.

masterlist Joel fics: Personal Lies i've got headaches... Mr. Miller Series fever landmines

"darlin'," a voice curls in the dark of your bedroom - a deep thrill rolls through you as you shift under the sheets. the lock clicks in its place, as it has several times before, while you stir awake gently.

"Joel?" you call out quietly, schooling the shock from your face in case he can see through the dim moonlight. a hand trails up your leg, catching on the swell of your ass with a squeeze.

you don't even try to fight your sleepy sighs, too warm and comfortable in your bed - the dream you'd been roused from too enticing, delicious, seductive...

something in the back of your mind whispers that he probably would prefer if you were asleep, anyways - it sends a thrill through you. chills cascade over your legs at his touch as he crosses to the other side of the bed; the dip in your mattress sets butterflies through your chest, but you slightly shift to sit up. "Joel, I-"

a hand on the bare of your chest has your voice dying in your throat. "baby, c'mon, your daddy's just in the other room." he purrs, "you gotta stay quiet, now."

you swallow shakily, your heart thundering against the clamminess of your chest. "just keep sleepin' if y'need to sugar. gotta be inside you, though."

his words, his hands - your breathing shudders as your nipples pebble under your lousy tank top. you're throbbing in arousal, your body melting under the rough hands of the man. "Joel-" your voice sounds like a whine as you shift your thighs, his hands coaxing you back onto your side. "please." you whine.

he hums lowly, "shh, baby, be quiet. jus' be good and let me fuck you." sliding your sleep shorts to the side, your back arching with a jolt as two rough fingers part the seam of your cunt, his breath on your neck, body pressed hard to your back.

you think back to the first time - his hands on you, hard, eyes even harder. the look he'd given you when you'd returned from your old college town back to your dad's house for the summer, graduated and proud.

he'd wiped that proud smirk from your face, replaced it with bitten lips and bleary, blissed eyes.

you gasp out as you feel his thick cock, the head prodding between your lips, spreading your slick arousal as he rocks against you. involuntarily, your hips cant towards the edge of your bed, but strong arms grab you and pull you back swiftly.

you bite your lip as he rocks into your folds again, prodding your clit and making you suck in a gasp at the pleasure. "that's it, baby, spread your legs-" his hands grasp at your hip, pulling you back. you part your thighs, gasping as he bites on your neck, "wider."

you let out a breath at his hands, sliding over your frame and pinching a nipple. but then he's in you within seconds and you gasp - his hand clamping over your mouth and pressing, concealing the shuddering gasp from the stretch.

your eyes nearly roll back as his strong arms slink around you, pressing your arms hard into your own chest and snaking around you, pressing you impossibly into him. his scent surrounds you; plagues your sheets, your pillows with pine and amber and beer and him.

you can't move - your arms, held tight against your own chest with his as he starts to pound into you; one of his hands slides up, pressing against you and concealing your whimpers as they leak out of you with every slap of your ass against his hips.

"fuck," he hisses, "lettin' me do whatever I want t'you." he grunts, hot in your ear as you take him, hard and deep. he hits the spot in you that almost has you straining against him, your eyes drooping as sleep laces through you. "pretty little thing, waitin' for me all night with a warm wet cunt and a pretty smile. 's that right?"

he pulls your head to the side to try and see your face; as your eyes have adjusted in the faint moonlight, you can just make out the devastatingly handsome stare, his jaw set and teeth caught on his bottom lip. his eyes are dark pits that swallow you whole as he thrusts into you, lurking with the knowledge that you fell asleep tonight hoping he'd sneak in to take you.

his hand releases your mouth and you suck in a breath, his arms crossing back tightly over you as he edges you closer and closer to your bliss.

"show me that pretty smile." he utters quietly, sternly.

he pounds into you, hand pressing you back as you strain, letting yourself get fucked hard, wondering absently how badly this headboard creaks against the wall.

you smile anyways, staring back at his face, the dark twist of his features. you can see the glint in his eyes as he smirks, "tell me how much you love it."

you gasp, whispering with a heat in your cheeks, legs shaking, "I love it, Joel." your voice is weak, warbling as your smile melts into something more fucked-out, his thrusts sharp and deep.

he bites your neck, a particularly deep stroke into you sending your body careening away, his arms restricting you from moving. "that's right. you love getting fucked by your daddy's best friend."

you swallow, his words melting in your ear, your cunt clenching as you near your high, feeling full to the brim, fighting your hardest to stay quiet.

he always does this - tells you to be quiet, then pushes you, teases you, makes you talk until you're nearly screaming. it's... it's like he wants to get caught.

it's sick, and it coils something in your stomach.

you whimper into your pillow, shutting your eyes tight. his growl echoes into your ear as his hand hand frees your breasts from your arms and top, letting one hand cover them, pressing you tight against him once again.

when he cums, it's hot and sticky inside you, his chest shuddering with a deep groan.

but he doesn't leave; no, he holds you tight against him, letting your exposed breast shiver and peak against the exposed air as he gently rocks his spend back inside you.

"just go back to sleep, darlin'," his voice purrs once again, falsely kind, "you'll wake up when I need more."

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:

(begging) send requests!!! for Joel and Din!!! im begging! taglist: @satansgoatt @elissaaa @queerponcho @bbyanarchist @lapricot @umavvitch @asreadbyaj @dinsbaby @cottoncandytomu @switchbladedreamz @missannwinchester @abs-2020 @afandomidiot @cosm1c-babe @rogersbarnesxx @carleenphillips-blog @bonnibuckets @nightlovechild @jazzyspasms @girlboybug @cannolighost @pastelnap @userpedros @feministfanboi @frogers @grhowls @daddy-din @gothoppered @totallynotastanacc @robbatlover @casssiopeiaaa @wannab-urs @redhotkitchen @joelapologist2001 @silkiers @alltheseperfectimperfections @whorror-s @scarletthefierce

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:

#joel miller smut #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel x reader smut #joel x reader #joel smut #tlou fanfiction #dbf!joel #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller the last of us #the last of us (tv) #the last of us x reader #the last of us smut #pedro pascal smut

[altades]

Vashwood rant

I can't sleep so why not analyze vashwood in the middle of the night

Now, this analysis is mostly of the manga, with maybe small takes from 98 and tristamp

To start let's look at the boys from their respective beginnings

Vash is so cruelly mischaracterized as a child, and it might be a little bit of trismaps fault, even though i do love it, or maybe people are just putting characters into boxes without really thinking about it but Vash is so not soft-shy-nice little baby brother. The whole thing with him being younger is so insane to me, i get why if Nai was born like 10 minutes earlier he would make it his whole personality (very sibling thing to do) but it's just so stupid. No, they have 0 age difference and it doesn't affect their dynamic cuz the are literally twins for the love of god. And, really, when you look at the manga as kids Nai was the emotional one! And he still is!

Nai is plagued by fear and anger and resentment and those emotions are what drive his every decision. Vash, on the other hand, is much more in control of his feelings and doesn't show them as much. That is to say that pre-tesla nai is the one worried about their relationship with humans, about their future, he's the one crying after talking to Conrad (what a sweet child he was) while Vash seemes much less scared.

And when they find out about Tesla Nai is the one who faints - he’s the more reactive one, the emotional one. And that small difference is what sets their paths so differently. Because Vash actually gets a chance to talk to Rem and figure things out.And that talk is so very important because it makes Rem, who already was everything to Vash, even more important. 

Now, I want us all to think about how terrified Vash was after seeing Tesla cuz he probably thought his own mother was going to dissect him and his brother. But then she saves him when he tries to end his own life, proving that no she’s not gonna kill him, because she, as every human, has the capability to learn from her mistakes and make better choices. (too bad Nai didn’t get that lesson lol)

And then we get to the big bad things. (it’s genocide) But the important part from that whole ordeal is Rem’s sacrifice. Because, listen, I love stories where humanity is shown to be capable of change and forgiveness is a virtue and love and pussy and all that but oh man can it be so so unrealistic and a little bit insane to watch (su im looking at u (i love su but oh boy that is not how the world works unfortunately)) but Trimax manages to make it work so well. I believe that’s cuz Vash is a very kind and loving man but is also completely out of his mind and has horrendous mommy issues. At least half the reason he doesn’t kill people is because Rem has died to save them, and killing them would make it all be for nothing. If he kills these people or if he lets them die would that mean that Rem died for nothing? Did she sacrifice her life to save these people only for her own son to end their lives? AND you know I’m right cuz he literally says it in the manga but also BECAUSE HE DOES THE SAME FOR WOLFWOOD (also he did kill Nai when he had the chance but we don’t have time to unpack that)

All of that is A LOT and very complicated (i love Vash he’s so well written he’s my perfect little meow meow) now let's talk about Wolfwoooooooooood /twirls hair/

WW is much easier to understand and analyze cuz he is, just a guy,, WW is just a normal person who gets insanely unlucky and gets in THE WORST possible situations (If he ever played DND he would roll straight 1s). That is to say that his story is sort of a way to show how much life in the badlands sucks, but also that there are good things even in the worst places (the orphanage) And WW reacts to situations in the most rational way possible way - he kills to survive. he doesn’t want to but he doesn’t get a say in it. If he could chose he would just live with his family and friend and do whatever. And that, him being so normal in such a violent and bloody world is what makes him suffer all the time. His inner moral compass is screaming at him what a terrible person he is and he promptly ignores it.

That is until that moral compass manifests itself in the form of a tall, blond and handsome stranger that he’s supposed to lead to his death. The stranger who turns out to be the most compassionate and kind man WW’s has ever seen. Who he’s supposed to kill. It’s like finding an oasis in the desert and being forced to burn it to the ground. And WW doesn’t want to do that, and he refuses to believe that the oasis is not a mirage so he tries to get Vash to kill someone, even if it’s WW himself. (It doesn’t work.)

As we all know WW changes his mind because of Vash’s influence. And he dies for it. Because even though Vash’s beliefs are born of human virtues, no man is made to walk his path, for he is not human and any mortal who tries to follow an angel to the skies is doomed to crash. WHAT YOU DON’T EXPECT IS THAT THAT MAN WILL BRING THE ANGEL DOWN WITH HIM

There is this line I wrote for an art i’m planning to make and if you’ve read this far you deserve a lil spoiler - “have you found absolution in bringing an angel to his knees?” and it captures perfectly what i'm thinking. And also Vash spends so much time trying to be closer to people but I think him killing Legato might’ve been the most human thing he’s ever done. Cuz it’s is so beautiful in the way he does it for the memory of the person he loved and yet so ugly in it’s cruelty.

I’ve said this before but most of the time when there is a human/ some immortal powerful creature relationship I don’t think the human is that special but WW HE SO IS. Maybe it’s the way that he’s just as deep in the nuclear bombs with personality business as Vash is, being one of said nuclear bombs, but still remains a normal person with relatively good morals that he can anchor Vash to a sort of normality that he doesn’t get often. Like what other guy would get hunted by all sorts of freaks with you, get in trouble all the time, get shot and etc and etc and then go for a drink with you like it’s a normal wednesday? Wolfwood. Or maybe it's that WW learns of every worst part of Vash, he sees him be on the brink of losing himself, he knows Vash has actually caused the deaths of hundreds of thousands of people and ALMOST did it again after Julai, and still stays with him? He sees Vash become something that is not human at all and still stay? Idk MAYBE IT’S ALL OF THAT but WW is just so important and so down bad but we all know that already so i’m not gonna add to that

Anyways, I got this all out of my system gn

#vashwood #trigun #trigun maximum

[slamminslamminmcgill]

I LITERALLY ONLY FINISHED EP 1 OF TLOU BEFORE WRITING THIS 😭 this man just has me going fucking insane rn i had to word vomit. spent my whole day on this bc im delulu

warning: homophobia and transphobia, trans fetishization, degradation/humiliation, slurs, vaginal sex, rough oral sex, NASTY daddy kink (like… borderline incest rp and ddlb maybe idk i just work here), hanky code, spit kink, breeding kink, gags, drug dealing (weed and opioids), reader is a sex worker/weed dealer with clit piercings

anatomical terms: cunt/pussy/kitty, clit/(t-)dick

It started as a drug deal. A bad habit picked up after top surgery. A rumor that this guy sold opioids. A wink and a nod of the head from across the plaza during a hanging. A few hankies tucked in your jeans, two shades of blue on the right, light green and a flag on the left. You were never sure if he knew what they meant. You’d never had the chance to ask. Until today, you happened to have a favor to ask him.

“Look, you know I’m usually reliable, right? If you could just gimme more time, I promise I’ll get you an ounce on Monday, on me.” That was a pretty decent offer. You usually gave him a quarter of bud every trade, so an ounce for the same price was surely nothing to sneeze at.

“If you’re not ready today, you ain’t gettin’ shit today. Sorry, kid.” Fuck. Ah, well. At least he wasn’t mad at you. Plus, he always called you ‘kid’. It made sense, since he was definitely old enough to be your dad. Maybe he had a soft spot for you. And he certainly met the diagnostic criteria for DILF, but goddamnit, your gaydar couldn’t get a reading on him. You figured the best way to find out for sure would be to offer up your other goods and services and see if he takes the bait.

“Well, uh… maybe there’s…” You took a step closer to him, putting all your weight into your hips hoping they’d jump out at him, “…something else I can offer you?”

They didn’t. His stare never shifted from your face. “Like what?” Joel asked unclockably.

You took the tips of your hankies between your fingers and held them out to him, spreading your wings, a display for attracting mates not unlike that of a peacock. “You know what these mean?” You asked with a quirk in the brow and some devious faggotry in your voice.

Joel crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall, a cocky, almost sort of try me type stance. “What do they mean?”

You named your hankies, one-by-one. Green, “This one means I’m a sex worker,” Trans, “This one means I have a pussy,” Navy, “This one means I get fucked,” and Cyan, “This one means I suck co-“

“I’m sorry, that one means what?” Joel interrupted, and pointed at your trans flag. He wasn’t just gonna let you gloss over that, just as you’d hoped.

“Oh, this one?” You pinched the tail of the trans flag and let the rest fall to your sides. A cheeky, cherubic, chaotic smile on your face as you taunted him. “It means I have a pussy. I’m trans.”

Joel’s face contorted in a few spasms of different emotions. A blink of shock, a blip of disgust, a second of intrigue, ‘til he landed on confusion. “So, uh…” His eyes crawled downwards to your crotch, then back up to you. “…how’s that work?”

Sure, you could give him the polite conversation explanation of the transmasculine identity, gender dysphoria and its treatments. Or, you could give the simplest and sexiest possible definition that would appeal to Schrödinger’s Straight Man over here. “Was born a girl, cut my tits off, shot up testosterone, and now I’m a man, but I kept my cunt.”

“Fuckin’ Christ…” He grunted, then cleared his throat, trying his damndest to remain calm and bloodbend his newfound erection away. Today was the wrong day for the light wash jeans. His growing bulge was the visual feedback of your influence on him.

A by-the-book boypussy sales pitch. Testing well with the focus group. You took another step with a sway of the hips, encroaching on his personal space but not penetrating it just yet. “Well? Whaddaya think?”

Joel bit his lip and said nothing for a moment. It seemed he was taking his time to figure out what exactly he did think about your revelation. “…Just 2 pills?”

“Just 2 pills…” You nodded, “Just enough to last me the weekend…” and took another step closer, then one more, until you could reach out and rub his bicep. “I’ll bump you up to an ounce, get it to you on Monday…” Your curious fingers started to trail down his arms and over to his delightfully soft dad-bod tummy. “And I’ll show you a good time today… Show you something you’ve never seen before…”

To say you were coming on pretty strong would be a massive understatement. And, hell, touching him? You were coming on like you had a death wish. Your hand slid downward, down to the heat he was packing in his pants, and stroking his rifle in your game of tactile Russian Roulette.

You loaded the chamber…

“All for just two little pills. So?”

Spun the barrel…

“What do you say?”

And pulled the trigger.

“Please, Daddy?”

And with those two whorish words, he snapped. Joel grabbed you by the wrist and slammed you into the brick wall behind him. You gasped in shock and winced in pain. It happened so fast, you barely had any time to think about the mistake you’d just made, but before you could choke out an I’m sorry, his lips were on yours. You moaned into the kiss and he snarled into it, slobbering all over each other in a fit of lust.

“Bratty little fuckin’ queer. So you’re saying you have a cunt, huh, boy? No bullshit?” Joel sneered as he shoved his hand between your legs. He grabbed your crotch and squeezed it tight, delighted to find no bulge, nothing in his way but a few layers of clothing. “Ooh, damn, kiddo, guess you’re right. Ain’t you fuckin’ special…” He let your wrist fall so he could grab your jaw. “Open,” he commanded, and your lips obliged. He spat into your open mouth, and then his lips were back on you.

Your hands scrambled for purchase on his back, eventually clutching his hair and his shirt for lifelines. The second you’d laid eyes on this guy, you knew he’d be a good fuck, and you couldn’t believe your luck. That monumental gamble you took just now had won you the jackpot, and now it was time to bask in your victory.

Joel grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked you out of the kiss. “You want your fuckin’ pills, cuntboy?”

“Yeees…” That was why you originally came to him, yes, but now you wanted a whole lot more.

“You want those fuckin’ pills?”

“Yeees, yes, I wan-em…”

“Say please.”

“Pleeease…”

“Please, what?”

“Pleeease, Daddyyy… P-Please, Daddy, I wan- I wan’ the pills…”

“You gonna suck your Daddy’s cock for ‘em?”

“Y-Yeees, Daddyyy…”

“So do it.”

Joel dropped you and let you stumble onto your knees in front of him. You rocked back and forth impatiently as he undid his belt and fished his cock out of his jeans. As you suspected, it was massive, flushed an angry shade of red, and throbbing painfully. He gave it a tantalizing stroke, peeling back the foreskin and pulling it taut on the rebound. You licked your lips at the precum leaking from its slit, waiting for his instruction.

“Open,” He demanded once more. You acquiesced, opening your mouth wide enough for him to stuff his cock in your throat. He let out a deep, husky, growl as he slid down your airway. “Yeahhh, that’s it… That’s it, kiddo…”

Even in your dickdrunk, cockgagged haze, you could guess what was coming next. In preparation, you braced yourself with your hands on his hips, and relaxed your throat as best you could for him to fuck it. Turns out, your intuition was right.

“Fuck, yeah, fuckin’… Fuckin’ choke on it, whore… Choke on Daddy’s cock.” He grunted, grabbed your hair, and held you still while he thrusted into your mouth unforgivably. Tears, snot, and drool were running down your face in no time, and Joel was loving it. “Aw, look at that, yeah, good boy…”

You whined reflexively at the praise, accidentally sucking some spit into your windpipe and choking you in a less sexy and more dangerous manner than intended. Your eyes bulged open and you slapped his thigh twice, tapping out. Thankfully, he got the hint and let you go.

You coughed up the spit and smacked your own chest to clear your airway. “Sorry… Wrong pipe…”

“Take your time.” Joel replied, “Not try’na kill ya.”

Once you could regulate your breathing and you were sure you weren’t at risk of death by blowjob, you got back to work, at your own pace this time. You had the chance to explore him. Stroking and squeezing his shaft and his sack, fluttering your tongue underneath his tip, licking long stripes from the balls to the head. Less force, but no less intensity.

“Ngh, little faggot sure knows his way around a cock, don’t he?” Joel snickered and ruffled your hair. “So good at this, I would’a never believed you don’t got one yourself.”

True, you may not have been blessed with a cock attached to you, but you’d gotten plenty inside you. Not exactly your hometown, but familiar terrain nonetheless. When you felt like you could, you swallowed his length whole, swiping your tongue along his balls as you gagged. Joel threw his head back and moaned into the air, and then, you rode him with your throat again.

“Fu-u-uck, oh, shit, yeah… Yeah, you suck Daddy’s cock… Suck your old man’s cock for pills, and you’ll get ‘em, son... You’ll get ‘em, you fuckin’ junkie.”

You’d honestly forgotten this was about pills. You just got so caught up in the love of the sport, it had totally slipped your mind. Though dangling the carrot of oxies in front of your spit-drenched face was as good an incentive as any, and despite the burning in your windpipe, you sucked him with more power, more speed, more emotion, and more determination. You could taste victory leaking and throbbing on your tongue.

“F-Fuck… I-… I can’t…” Joel’s face was a picture of overwhelming pleasure. He had to pull you off. His wet, pulsating cock popped out of your mouth, and he huffed and puffed wiping sweat from his brow. “As much as I’d like to dump a load in your stomach…” He nudged his boot in between your legs, right up against your burning cunt. “I need to see your specialty, first.” He extended a hand to help you off your knees, then when you stood, hugged you to him and spanked each of your ass cheeks, jiggling them both as he gave his next order. “Take off your pants and bend over. Let Daddy see that pretty kitty of yours.”

You giggled, a goofy, stupid slutty smile on your face, and nodded. “Hehehe, okay… Okay…” You unbuckled your pants and let your jeans drop to the dirt. You stepped out of them and kicked them aside. You turned 90 degrees, put your hands on the brick wall, and stuck your ass out to Joel. He took his place behind you, grabbed your ass, and spread you open to take a peek at your holes. You shivered as the cool breeze ran over your dripping cunt.

“Fuck, I can’t even remember the last time I saw a cunt like this…” Two of his fingers traced your slit then spread your lips, exposing yourself even more to him. He chuckled when he saw your dick piercing. “‘Specially not one with these fancy hood ornaments.” He couldn’t resist the urge to tug on the jewelry.

Naturally, your knees buckled beneath you and you slid down the wall. “A-Ah!” You squeaked, “F-Fuck! S-Sen-Sensitive!” You tried to warn him, but really you were showing off your weak point with the conspicuousness of a video game boss fight.

“Oh, yeah?” Joel scoffed and supplemented it with a smack on the ass. You could feel him kneel down behind you, and he said, “Good.”

And then his lips were on your t-dick and sucking it like a leech.

You had to scream, bad, but it was broad fucking daylight and FEDRA could show up at any second. Instead, you bit down on your hand, sinking all the energy into your teeth as your body collapsed in on itself. Before long, your cunt was dripping down into his mouth, so much so, that there was an audible splash when his lips let you go.

“Christ, you’re a mess. Gonna ruin my fuckin jeans, ‘f I don’t take ‘em off.” Joel stood up and out of his own pants then tossed them beside yours. You heard some more rustling of clothing, felt a swipe up your pussy, then a tap on your lips with wet fingertips. “Open,” he instructed yet again.

You opened your mouth to lick and suck at his fingers, or so you thought. Instead, they pulled away and gagged you with one of your own hankies. Judging purely by the texture, you deduced that it was the trans flag. You relaxed and let him tie the gag more comfortably.

“There.” Joel said, patting you on the ass affirmatively. “Now I don’t gotta worry ‘bout you bein’ a fuckin’ screamer.” Two strong hands took your hips and lined him up with his target. You could feel his head prodding, but not breaching your hole. “Ready?”

You bit down on the gag and nodded feverishly at him. He poked your hole once, then twice, then started to push in and ohmyfuckinggodhe’shugeimeanyouknewthatalreadybutfuckitfeelsbetterthanyouthoughtitwould.

Without the ability to articulate any of those words, you whimpered through the gag and clawed at the wall like a cat trying to get in the bathroom.

“Biiig stretch, kiddo, that’s it…” Joel groaned, “That’s a good boy… Daddy’s almost in…”

Almost in? What the fuck did he mean by-ohshitthatswhatthefuckhemeantbyalmostin… He was so fucking thick that the stretch nearly burned, and long enough to feel like he was excavating your pussy to make room for himself. It was mind-numbing how big he was. He took up not only all the space in your cunt but in your brain as well. You’d never had someone dig so fucking deep.

“There you go, nice and full.” He leaned down to kiss your neck and pin your wrists together above your head. “Daddy’s perfect little cocksleeve…”

He withdrew his hips, practically taking your cunt with him on the way out since it refused to let go, and then speared his cock back into you. His thrust was a shockwave that rocked through your whole body. You let out a garbled moan into the spit-drenched fabric each time he did it. Eventually, he had a steady tempo going.

“Nghhh, so fucking tight… Real fuckin’ tight for a whore. And you’re fuckin’ soaked…” He gave your ass another swat, then stopped moving for a moment. “C’mon, slut, fuck yourself back on your Daddy’s dick. Ride your Daddy’s dick, now-yeahhh, that’s it…” He purred as you started to bounce your ass on him. For a little extra encouragement, he reached out to pet your hair. And for some guidance and a little extra oomph, he slammed his hips forward in time with yours, making his cock hit you twice as hard. “That’s a good boy…”

It was unbelievable, almost intolerable how good he felt. You almost couldn’t bear the thought of fucking any of your regular clients ever again. This was a Flowers for Algernon-type dicking, the absolute pinnacle of nasty sex for just a little while, and you’ll spend the rest of your sex life downhill from here. You’d like to hope that wouldn’t be the case, but none of the other dick you’d gotten in the past could even compare.

And it all stemmed from asking for a front on some oxies.

Joel reminded you of that when he said, “Next time you’re needing a front, I’ll-ngh… I’ll make you work for it, whore… Take you home and fuck you in the ass instead… Let you scream as loud as you need to… Let that little pussy weep for me and it’s gettin’ nothin’… You want some painkillers, then you gon’ hurt for ‘em, son…”

Honestly, the idea of a ‘next time’ had you excited regardless of what hole he wanted to bust open. If you were lucky, maybe it’d be out of mutual enjoyment rather than an exchange. Soon, he struck that special spot inside you, that inner button that has you seeing stars and screaming obscenities into the flag gag. Your hands balled into fists and pounded at the wall. It was getting to be too much to bear. Of course, with your flag in the way, your cries of Fuck! Fuck! I’m gonna come! sounded as, “Auck! Auck! Ah gah-ah cah!”

Luckily, Joel spoke fluent slut. “You’re gonna cum? Gonna cum for your daddy?” He knotted his fingers in your hair and yanked you up against his chest. He shoved you both forward until you hit brick, and without an inch of space for you to squirm, he rutted into you relentlessly. “Then do it, slut. Cum on your daddy’s cock. Daddy wants to feel his little man cum all over him.”

God, how could a sentence be so nurturing and so nasty at the same time? So sweet and yet so fucking sick? Regardless of Sigmund Freud screaming ‘I told you so’ somewhere in your head, you came buckets, splashing Joel’s thighs with pussy juice on his every thrust. Your legs gave out around the fourth or fifth gush, and Joel had to hold you up for him to finish.

“Fuck, yeah, keep coming, keep coming, baby, Daddy’s close…” Joel groaned. Every word he said grew more vile and more primal than the last. His only need was to breed. “Daddy’s gonna knock you up, son… Gonna dump some brothers and sisters into ya… ‘N’ you’re gonna fuckin’ take it… Ngh, gonna take my fuckin’ load in ya ‘cause you’re a little cumdump pussyboy whore… ‘S what you’re meant for-shit… Shit!”

He squeezed your body tight and growled into your ear. Hot spurts of his cum flooded your battered cunt. On any other occasion, you’d cringe at some rando calling his load your siblings, but it just felt so good. You couldn’t give less of a fuck what he called it. And it’s not like he was your actual father. He was committing to the bit, a bit that had you mewing and sobbing with pleasure and repressed emotion, but that was a problem for your therapist later.

The world went still as you both came down from orbit. The rest of the QZ didn’t exist in that moment. It was just you and your “daddy”, a man twice your age that you trade drugs with and who just busted a nut in you. Honestly, still a better father figure than most. Closest thing to a dad you had for damn sure.

You felt that paternal vibe from him as he kissed the side of your neck. “You okay, little guy?” Joel asked tenderly. He untied the gag and tossed the flag by your jeans, letting you answer him.

“Mm… Mhm… I’m okay…” You stuttered, still counting on his grip to keep you standing.

“Good boy.” A few quick pecks to your neck and he slipped out, a few drops of his kids pooling in the dirt below you. “Now get dressed. I got shit to do.” He demanded with a final slap on your ass.

You stumbled over to your pants, leaning onto the wall to guide yourself. Even after dressing himself, Joel got to them first, and held them out for you to step into.

“Yeah, there you go, kid. You’re okay.” He cooed, and then clapped you on the shoulders to get your attention. Your head snapped up to see him reach into his pocket and pull out a plastic bag wrapped in tinfoil. He fished out two white pills and gave them to you, just as you agreed to.

“Thanks. I really appreciate it,” You gave him a shy smile, feeling grateful for the front and the frenzied faux-father-son fucking he just bestowed upon you. “Oh, and, uh… I… I had a good time, s-so if you ever wanna-“

“I’ll see you Monday, kid.”

#i am UNWELL #the last of us #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #the last of us x reader #the last of us smut #tlou x reader #tlou smut #what the FUCK do i tag this #dd/lb #daddy k!nk #slurs

[dotster001]

i was gonna make this a comment but smthn told me this was gonna be long.

SORRY FOR THE LONG-NESS OF THIS ASK

BUT DOT- THINK ABOUT YAN DILF JADE.

who knows if his ex wife was murdered or not, oh well! 🤭 best not to dwell on it because it makes the twins sad :(

see? (🧍🏻🧍🏻)

…anyways

but here me out (this is me going coco bananas. full on psycho mode) maybe the first time he saw you was at a RANDOM party that a friend of yours hosted.

blah blah mutual friend of a friend and that long friend family tree stuff

but maybe you slithered away to the dog, or were tasked with helping a baby (more like someone threw the baby at you in order to dance)

or you’re with the other room for the children that the party provides (this is like a really rich friend. like mega mansion. crazy rich asians kinda thing)

but ugh he’s there with his dreadful beautiful wife and his wonderful children. and his wife is already leaving to grab a drink and he thinks their children shouldn’t get a glimpse at whatever tom-foolery parties like these will lead to.

so in they go! (maybe this was years ago when they’re toddlers)

but then he sees you swarmed with babies. the nanny took a break and left you in charge and you’re fighting back babies with one of those roll-pop lawn mowers-

ARGHHH ONE JUST SPAT ON THE END OF YOUR RENTAL DRESS DAMNIT.

jade is utterly beside himself with laughter, amusement, and everything of the sorts and creates flirty small talk. and oh?? what's this? his wonderful bundles of joy seem to have found a liking to you? how precious (they’re clawing and climbing you like a jungle gym) jade takes a note of that!

they don't even like their mother that much , simply tolerating her. but jade can tell that his kids got good taste!

he lowkey interviews reader (without them know oops!!) and while yes, their beauty was what drove his interest, second being their personality (you have to be attracted to someone to give them a chance!)

and the twins were the cherry on top!

and conveniently you say where you work (rookie mistake) while he tells you he’s a humble business man… don’t ask what for tho cause that’s a super family secret 🤭

but he's planning and scheming and charming his way into your life and he’s in it for the long run because eels are patient. it just sucks that jade is even more patient, like a saint if you would

^^accurate depiction of saint jade

^^and this is jade when he gets questioned for his wife’s uh oh 🤷🏻🤷🏻

maybe she drank too much at a party and fell over the side.

maybe there was a targeted hit meant for jade but they got the wrong one.

maybe a classic batman scenario but jade survived and is throughly traumatized (same with his kids, i mean look at them!!🧍🏻🧍🏻 they’re so torn up that it just breaks his heart😿)

but he’s making chance encounters rather… commonly. (he had reader stalked for a good few years as he was planning everything. just to make sure he likes them& they keep it interesting.)

just... some thoughts about dilf jade leech and his hell spawns hehe (when the trio visited your work they managed to leave your section alone... so it looks like you were in the eye of the hurricane)

im gonna read your other stuff about dilf jade now because AHHHH

Angry at my boss, so I decided to see if there was anything in my inbox to cheer me up. Woo hoo!

In reference to this

Cw: light Yan!, implied stalking, Jade's a freak but if you don't already know that then you aren't paying attention

I can only imagine that, after the party, since you interacted with so many kids and parents that night, they all kind of blurred together. And it's not until, after he visits your place of work, and you chat over text for a while, and you have a real date, then invites you back home for an after date drink, do you start to remember. And that's only because the twins are scamps and stayed up past their bedtimes, and they are staring at you with eyes you remember.

Obviously, you are gonna chalk it up to a coincidence. "Oh my god! You know so-and-so, right? I think I met you at a party a few years ago!" He laughs, and plays along, oh my god,.yeah what a really good coincidence.

Meanwhile, the twins share a look, because Dad has talked about you every day since Mom died, so they know he's lying. Hell, when you aren't here, they already call you mama/papa. But, they are their father's kids, so they are never going to say anything.

One date turns to two turns to three, turns to a year of dating. It's time to meet the family. You know Jade has a twin, but they've taken different paths in life.

So when Dilf Floyd Trudges up the driveway with his six adopted kids, four of whom are sprinting around the house and lawn and destroying Jade's home, two of whom are under Floyd's arms like suitcases, you're in for a culture shock.

When you first meet him, he seems incredibly grumpy. He's got salt and pepper stubble, the baggiest outfit, though you get the feeling it's designer, no matter how slouchy it is, his hair is slicked back, making the grey streaks look neat against his otherwise messy look.

He tosses the kids and yells at them to go play with their cousins, then he rudely shoves past you. Jade stops him with a hand on his shoulder that appears gentle, but if you had felt the full force of it, you'd have landed on your ass. He hissed at Floyd, through a smile, to greet his new fiance. There's a tense moment where they stare at each other, then Floyd storms over to you, and presses a ticklish kiss to your cheek, before muttering, "Welcome to the family," then storming to his room and locking himself in for the night.

The next day it's like he's a different person. He makes breakfast for you and excitedly asks you about yourself, wanting to know everything about his future sibling. Eventually he pours you a glass of what you know is Jade's most expensive wine, which he has been saving for a special occasion, and you finally get the courage to ask about the night before, and he laughs and says he was tired from the trip. Wrangling six kids on an airplane is exhausting, you know?

You decide to ask him about little Jade, and Floyd's stories of childhood charm you so much that you don't notice Jade's brooding presence.

Not that Floyd minds. Yeah, he got off to a rough start with you, but he gets why Jade likes you. And Jade only has two parentless kids, he has six. So his kids need you more than Jade's do, right?

Will the dad's eventually drag the kids into this fight? Absolutely. Those kids have Mafia parents, they have plenty of acting training. They will be pulling those heartstrings of yours 😊

#just some thoughts #fun with moots #yandere twisted wonderland #dilf jade leech #dilf floyd leech #jade leech x reader

[v3nusxsky]

hey! could I request a nsfw work for Emily prentiss / nb! reader (afab)

im really bad at requesting stuff so I’m just gonna make a list I hope that’s okay!!

After a really tough case you just need Emily to take all control and fuck you senselessly and she agrees but also she is concerned about you and makes sure you’re okay

dom Emily and sub reader (bdsm vibes) Emily is hard dom but also really soft and caring, she instantly switches from “using” the reader’s body and degrading them to showering them with kisses and compliments

safe word use (love me some good communication!)

overstimulation kink / multiple orgasms!

mommy kink

praise kink

no strap on stuff please!

aftercare (fluff :)

thank uuu <3

Mommy has you baby 18+

*Authors note~ felt like our em deserved a bit of love too Yano? Yea I'm writing fics instead of uni just to cope and then finishing it off on the train 😭*

Trigger warnings~ mommy kink praise kink degrading sub r dom Emily safe word use aftercare thigh riding eating out fingering tribbing overstim

Prompt~see aak^^^

This case was a rough one for you, it's not uncommon that a case would get an agent a little more than normal, especially when it held a personal tie to their lives or past. For you, it was poor girls who'd lost their lives just for being who they were. And by a "friend" none the less was heartbreaking. Reminding you of the time where you were almost one of those girls but thankfully you had been taught to defend yourself at your FBI academy.

The blank stare you held the entire plane ride told Emily one thing. You needed her. You needed to feel, to be pulled from the memories of the past to the present. And luckily, Emily knew just what she needed to do for you. Unfortunately , this wasn't either of your first rodeos for needing this sort of help and support. And you'd develop a code to show consent. So it was to no surprise that when Emily asked you if you wanted to "reset" that you nodded silently and made your way to the car.

After your silent drive with your girlfriend you immediately got out of the car and made your way inside to your bedroom. Emily knowing you needed space pottered around shutting the house up and preparing for what was to come. When she made her way to the room you were stripped bare, much like your emotions, on your knees for her. She loves to make you sit pretty for your mommy, head down with your hands on your knees while she stalked around the room in heels. A clear display of dominance.

"What do you need sweetheart?" She held her authoritative tone to show you she expected an answer. "Mommy to make it better" you whimpered still not moving from where you were stationed. "Well then why don't you be a good little slut and fucking earn my help" Emily growled moving to out a head in your heat and tugging it, causing you to yelp out but follow her lead. "Oh don't whine! You know you love it, a little pain slut is all you are."

Next thing you knew you were being pushed onto the bed and your lover straddling your thigh. "Flex" she demanded before starting to grind her hips downwards to seek friction. I'm a constant to her degrading words her smooth hands were constantly touching your skin. It didn't matter if it was your pretty tits or your arms the touch remains light and gentle. "Oh you are a good slut for mommy, letting mommy use your pretty body for my pleasure. Isn't that right my sweet girl?" She mewled as her hips began to lose their rhythm. Knowing she was close you sat up to latch on to her rose bud and sucked harshly. Exactly how she liked, causing her to cum hard. Like a mindless doll you allowed Emily to work her way through the first orgasm of the night, happy to serve. Emily made quick work of shredding any remaining barriers preventing you from being skin to skin.

The raven haired woman shifted to her knees before licking where she'd drenched your thigh, bitting the silky smooth skin just the right amount to draw some blood. "Mommy wants to play with her doll now baby, can you be a good girl for me?" She murmured in between soothing the bit and pressing open mouthed kisses to each thigh. "Yes mommy" you whined  before Emily took a bold swipe of your soaking slit. "Oh! Mmm" you mewled giving Emily all the encouragement she needed to lap at your pussy like a starving woman.

"Let me hear those pretty moans sweet girl. Moan for mommy. I want to hear those pretty noises when you cum for me" Emily mumbled into your cunt, the vibrations sending you over the edge and rewarding her efforts as you mewled in pleasure. Only when she was sure she'd got all her reward did she pull away from your core, chin glistening in your arousal and cum mixed together. "Check in baby" she whispered coming to press sweet kisses all across your chest, up your neck, to your cheek, eyes and nose before your plump lips.

"Emerald" you panted out. Laying beneath her with your pupils blown wide and a beautiful flush over your neck and there swells of your breasts. "Greedy whore tonight" she mused before trailing her fingers south of your body to your sensitive clit. "Mommy!" You whimpered as she made contact. "Oh hush, you'll take what mommy gives you, gosh you're practically a bitch in heat with all this filth down here. A whore for your co-worker, doesn't that make you feel ashamed dirty girl" Emily teased you while her fingers trailed your folds before slamming into your awaiting hole.

The shame only aided the bubble of arousal to grow in your stomach as your love hit the right spot inside your spongy walls with each stroke. Effortlessly she had you close to the edge within minutes and begging for her to let you cum. "Such a fucking whore" she mumbled with a roll of her eyes but never slowing her pace, "be a good cumslut and cum now bitch!" Emily growled her left hand digging into your hips hard enough to leave bruises for days.

"Shh darling, you did so good my love, so good. One more okay one more" she murmured over and over as you rode the pleasurable waves. "No mommy! Can't do more please" you cried well and truly on your way to where you needed to be mentally. You knew your safe word and when to use it which is why Emily manhandled your body to be on top of her own. "Such a slut. Move your fucking ass!" She grumbled smacking your thigh which caused you to adjust into the position she wanted. You couldn't help but sigh as you felt the warmth radiating from her core. "Mommy" you mewled softly as you slowly began to rock your hips against hers.

To be gracious, Emily let you have a few minutes of pathetically rutting against her before she changed the position muttering that you were no more than a useless slut who couldn't even do something so simple. From there on Emily took control of the pace and made sure you could feel everything. "Lavender!" You sobbed through gasps causing everything to halt. "Okay sweet girl, all done, no more. My good girl."

Nothing else mattered to Emily Prentiss apart from you in this moment. She had to make sure you were okay. Instinctively, she moved to cuddle you up into her bare chest and rub your back as you sobbed. Your body shook for minutes until you managed to gain a bit of control. "Mommy?" You muttered into her skin, "I'm sorry." Those two words single handedly broke her heart, "oh sweet girl, you have nothing to apologise for, mommy is so proud of her girl. You did so well for me darling, my pretty girl I couldn't be more proud or in love with you. Mommy is here okay?"

Some time passed before Emily attempted to gently shift away from you, "mommy needs to clean her precious girl up and then we can get into bed and snuggle okay baby?" You nodded in understanding and tried to hide the whimpers when the cool wash cloth hit your over sensitive folds. "All done my girl" Emily murmured quickly ridding herself of the cloth and joining you in the warm bed. "Thank you Emi" you murmured when she gathered you in her arms again. "Always baby, no matter what you need." And that was how it would always be, no matter what you needed Emily would move heaven and earth to give it to you.

Word count ~ 1488

#anon answered #v3nusxsky answers #fanfic #anon requested #emilyprentiss #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss x fem!reader #emily prentiss x y/n #emily prentiss x reader smut #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss smut #emily prentiss fanfiction #emily prentiss #ssa emily prentiss #ssa prentiss #agent prentiss

[weebsinstash]

could we get some valentino x male reader pls?

Bruh I've been actually on Valentino x male/intersex male Reader so hard lately (and I don't mention intersex for like fetish reasons but. I don't know what having a dick feels like and sometimes I'm like "well what if boy but. Vagine" and, shut up its my gender expression power fantasy, maybe I wanna have muscles and broad shoulders, leave me alone 💀)

Right off the top of my head, I've had ideas recently for:

-boy band lead vocalist! male Reader! Just. Ok. Imagine Reader and Angel having kind of a beef with each other and at some point it becomes a sort of "oh yeah, well I can XYZ better than you" kind of competition amd Angel says some shit like "you wouldn't know what it takes to come out here and strut for a bunch of perverts who look at you like you're a piece of meat" and you just hit him with some shit like "bitch I LITERALLY sucked FIVE DICKS so I could headline for the Superbowl, you fucking LOSER, you dont know ACTUAL music, i was AN ARTIST" and you start belting out something sexy with a choreographed dance that is clearly professional level skill

-male Reader with a little sister and you protect her from Valentino by offering to take her place. You've never sucked a single dick in your life and hell you might not even be gay but Valentino has your baby sister's life in his hands and, you've got to protect HER if not yourself

- ughhhhhh I'm probably gonna make this it's own post too but I've been ON my "unwilling red string soulmate" personal indulgence lately and. Just. Valentino who sees his red string appear and OBVIOUSLY he's gotta RUN to find his boo and he finds you and immediately thinks you're the most precious adorable sexy little thing, BUT. You just. Look straight at him and how HUGE he is and reply "i-im not... actually into men 😳" which is a LIE of course and, here's Valentino thinking, AW, his poor little baby gay! You've never had a boyfriend or gone to any clubs? TRAGIC! But also perfect because he is just TICKLED watching you get flustered beyond belief! So cute!

-I feel like. He would try and give you boners on purpose and think it's the cutest most erotic thing. He's got you sitting next to him and you're filled with liquor and he starts REALLY laying on the flirting, maybe even... places his palm on your upper thigh and BOOM. Hard as a rock and you can't even hide it because he makes you wear tight pants all the time. He's just over there, "what's going on amorcito? :3c you feeling a little hot under the collar?" as if he didn't just spend like 15 minutes talking about how he'd love to get you on your back and touch EVERY INCH of you, how he'd love to TASTE you--

-this is gender neutral but, convinced he eventually forces you to do some of those sexy pin-ups with him and one day you're walking around Vee Tower and he just has that shit HANGING UP. Poster You is just braced against his chest looking at the camera all demure and vulnerable while he's like. Got his guns out looking all tough like "mess with my pookie and you're through" and of course he makes you do. Sexy ones. Matching lingerie?

-I think of forced feminization with a male Reader sometimes actually. Like you wear boxy unflattering shit on purpose and one day Vals just like "you've got a small waist for a guy" and is checking you over. It starts off small. He starts wanting to style you. Then he wants you to update your skincare routine. Which is all fine right? But then he starts pushing his personal tastes. You've got such nice muscular thighs... which is why you would look so nice in some fishnets. He'd love to see your cute little butt in a thong while you cover your dick with your hands in MAJOR EMBARRASSMENT. You've got such pretty eyes; can Daddy put some mascara on you?

Valentino straight up punishing you by dressing you in full lingerie, your ass is in garters, heels, full glam makeup, and forcing you to pose for some cell phone pics

-still over here just mentally 🤌🤌🤌 at the idea of Valentino taking male Reader out with him and Angel and you've got matching outfits. You and Angel are in little skimpy, color matching fits while he's in a suit and gold chain, something that makes him feel powerful while he shows off his favorite toys

-I rllllly like the idea of like, a male Reader who is a honeypot assassin. You can be extremely charismatic and charming and seductive but it's all a front; you're an S tier actor and you take your targets down when they least expect it. The Vees are all at the club and some upstart wannabe new Overlord decides to attack and you just JOHN WICK THAT SHIT. Picture the Vees just sitting there, everything is peaceful, suddenly, in a flash, you move your serving tray in front of Valentino just in time to block a bullet. All three Vees are like wtf? How did you even know? What's going on? You proceed to totally wreck shit improvising weapons as the attacker and his goons charge forth and you even wind up grabbing a whip from a nearby dancer and using it as a WEAPON WEAPON and that shit looks like it HURTS. You're out here "Michelle Pfeiffer taking out 5 mannequin heads in one take"ing that shit. You're cutting people IN HALF (because having hell powers is cool leave me alone)

-i like the idea of male Reader who was a professional male model and a bit of a tailor himself, like a real kind of posh art student kind of type. You're with Valentino and Velvette notices how impeccably you're dressed and asks you where you bought it, you just, not so humbly brush yourself off. "Oh no, I made this myself. Nothing down here really fit my tastes" and suddenly you're like, custom designing wardrobes for ALL the Vees

Honestly just "Reader in XYZ Profession is exploited by Val/the Vees for their skills" is an idea I've had a lot. You have a hobby in baking so they always want food from you. You used to cook drugs so they make you work for them. You're a polyglot so youre taken along on business meetings to make sure none of the Vees business partners are planning shit in front of them. Like. Imagine just being the bitch who sits in the corner of the meeting room and shoots project/product ideas at them and it's like ACTUALLY successful and they're totally receptive and like you. You're just "Hey Valentino, what if you and Velvette did a collab on a waterproof mascara where you shot a porno in one continuous take so you can show the actor putting on the mascara, setting it down on the vanity, and then they start choking on a dick and their mascara doesn't run" like. They love you. Vox is just like "so, any new ideas today" and you're just using your VoxTek Premium Exclusive Black Card to cut coke into lines, "*snooooooort* uhhhhh.... I got some ideas for some stupid little mobile games you can put tons of micro transactions in? Like just before i died there was this one game that was getting really popular but it had a lot missing, we could-" and they could all just kiss you

-on God, Fs in the chat for virgin male Readers who have Valentino finally pop that cherry. I feel like he'd find out you've never had so much as fingers in your ass and within that WEEK you're being dosed with love potion and taking him balls deep

-Val's the kinda yandere where he tells you you're safe being closeted with him, he'll keep your secret, he'll let you stay on the downlow, but one day he so much as ASSUMES disrespect from you and he's immediately letting everyone know exactly who you belong you. You're arguing with him and you go completely silent and cross your arms or some shit and he just takes a hit from his cigarette, "you know you looked a lot more handsome when you were screaming on my cock the other night" and outs you just like that, either as gay or as fucking him or both. Imagine Angel not knowing you slept with Val and he immediately gives you this hurt expression BECAUSE HE TOTALLY DOESNT HAVE A THING FOR YOU TOO

-Valentino would absolutely make male Reader and Angel fuck while he watches and or films it, and also tbh I feeeeeeeel like. Angel would be ok with trans or intersex men tbh? Idk. It's not clear exactly what his taste in men is? He doesn't mind when men are shorter than him, so, like, is he a switch? He gives huge switch energy and let's face it, that's one TALL twink. I mean look at him holding Charlie! He's strong for his size too! Pole dancing takes a lot of upper body strength!

Oh no... not me suddenly thinking about a scarier yandere angel dust who is a lot stronger than you thought... Yandere Angel Dust who corners you and takes you completely by surprise and you get a GUTTING display of just how strong his arms actually are. You're thinking "oh he's just some lanky bottom twink, he couldnt overpower me, in fact I'm scared i might hurt him, he's delicate" but like HONEY HE CAN SUPPORT HIS ENTIRE BODY WEIGHT BY JUST HIS ARMS OR THIGHS. He's a FIT twink.

-ive said it before but uh once Angel Has It Bad Enough, like Bad Bad Bad, he's over here, "oh Daddy, I'm just soOoOo scared uxu ya know my buddy Reader, that one ya think is cute? Well, he was drinkin' earlier and he mentioned wanting to move FAR away and he wouldn't tell me WHERE 🥺 I'm just so worried he won't be able to take care of himself, you know, what, with all that trauma about his FATHER and-- oh he didn't tell you? He's really vulnerable to BIG. SCARY MEN and im wooooorrrrrriiiied, what if he gets hurt, talk to him Daddy PleeeeEEeEease? 🥺" like. He might still hate Val's fucking guts but he's high on coke and watching Valentino put some real inches in you and he's having the most explosive guilt-filled nut of his entire afterlife

-im sorry I'm just picturing Reader being like "I'm not fucking gay, fuck off, leave me alone" and Velvette just not even looking up from her phone, "I saw you using that $200 hand cream. You're so deep in the closet you're finding Christmas presents"

"I'm not fucking gay" "amorcito I've seen the pants you like to wear. No straight men wears those"

"I told you guys I'm not into men!!" "That's what I thought too until I met Al- VAL! Until I met VAL! [OuO']"

Then one night you're off work and none of the Vees or even Angel know where you're at and they wind up in a club and, there you are, getting absolutely fucking wasted, on top of one of the counters, you know those clubs that have random pokes everywhere, and you're dancing, you're getting real zesty with it, you're dropping your ass, and here's Valentino jumping to his feet pointing a finger, "so you DO know how to pole dance!!!" and your fate is sealed from there on in 💀💀💀

#yandsre hazbin hotel #hh #yandere hellaverse #yandere x reader #sinprompts

[stevieharringtonwifeguy]

Transfem Stevie who figures it out when she goes to a gay bar with Robin (post s3?) and meets another transwoman and has a Huh, you can do that? moment.

i sort of Went Off on this one lmaoo. bc im incapable of not steddifying everything this is now T4T Steddie 2: This Time They're Lesbians- with trans girl eddie cracking stevie's egg

PLEASE NOTE: this is set in the 80s, so they use kind of outdated terminology for trans people. also there's a d slur used in a positive, self-ID way. overall the vibes are good but the language is questionable. do with that what you will lol

When Robin asks Steve to be her ‘emotional support heterosexual’ (her words) for her first visit to an Indianapolis gay club, Steve prepares himself for a night of ‘hey, have you met my friend Robin’, pointedly not hitting on any girls, and politely declining offers of drinks and dances from guys until he’s buzzed enough to admit he’s curious. And so far, that’s exactly what he’s been doing. Robin’s off dancing with a girl after Steve assured her about ten times that he’d be fine on his own. He’s just debating whether or not his inhibitions are lowered enough to go dancing when his thoughts are interrupted by a voice to his right.

“Steeeeeeeve Harrington.”

Steve turns, already cringing. Anyone who says his name with a tone like that is someone who is not going to be thrilled with seeing him in a gay club. The thing is, Steve has no idea who this person is. Can’t even really tell if they’re a guy or a girl. Their features are fairly masculine, all lean muscles and square chin, but they’ve got long, wild hair and heavy eye makeup. The cropped muscle tank with ‘Massive Dyke’ printed in lurid red muddies the waters even further.

“Oh, hey… uh…” Yeah, Steve’s pulling a complete blank. They look kind of familiar? He’s definitely seen them around. Somewhere. 

They roll their eyes. “Not surprised King Steve doesn’t recognise me. Especially looking like this. What are you doing here?”

Steve sighs a little. “I’m here with a friend. She was nervous to come alone so I’m here for moral support and wingmanning.”

“Yeah, sure,” they scoff, and Steve frowns even more.

“Look, I know I was a dick in high school. And I’m genuinely sorry if I was a dick to you. But that was four years ago. I’ve grown up, and I’m here to be a good friend. Can you let me do that?”

The person blinks, and then looks a little sheepish. “Okay, yeah, that’s fair,” they say, before extending a hand. “And it’s Eddie. Eddie Munson.”

Steve smiles and shakes the offered hand. “Oh, yeah! You ran that club my kids went to- dungeons and dragons, right? Cool to see you again, dude!”

Eddie’s face does a complicated little wiggle before- “Uh, not a dude, man.”

“Wait, what?”

“I’m a girl, now. Still Eddie, though, it’s just short for Edith now. Have you heard of transsexuals?”

Steve shakes his head. “I’m pretty new to this. I know, like. Five words.”

“Well, easiest way to put it is that I was born a guy, but I feel more like a girl, so now I’m, like, switching.”

“Switching…” Steve says, trying his best to look genuinely interested and confused. He generally doesn’t struggle too hard to look confused, but he’s a little worried Eddie will think he’s being a dick about it. “You can do that?”

Eddie snorts, gesturing down to herself. “Clearly.”

“Huh,” Steve says. Frankly, this is blowing his mind. “Why doesn’t everyone do that, then? Like, no one likes being a guy.”

“Ye- wait, what?”

“Like, the sexism of being a girl would suck, obviously. But everything else sounds great! Like, you get prettier clothes and you can wear makeup- and girls are so nice to other girls, I've always been kind of jealous of that.”

Eddie looks shocked, but Steve's on a roll now, almost forgetting she's there as he continues thinking aloud. “And like. Girls’ bodies are just. Better, y'know? Like what do guys have, muscles? Girls can have muscles too, but girls are just so… like, everyone wants boobs, right?”

Eddie has a strange look on her face. “I mean, I do. Because I’m transsexual.”

“When you’re transsexual, do you get boobs? Like, do you- wait, is that rude? I feel like I wouldn’t ask another girl about her boobs.”

Eddie’s silent for a moment, looking at Steve in bewilderment, before she seems to collect herself. She takes a swig of her beer and then smiles at him. It looks both welcoming and like she’s in on a secret, and puts Steve at ease. He can see why the kids were so obsessed with her in high school.

“You know what, ordinarily it would be kind of rude, but I have a feeling this conversation is… not what I thought it was gonna be,” she says, and Steve tilts his head a bit in confusion. “So yeah, I do have boobs. You can take estrogen as a little pill, and it basically does puberty for you again. You get boobs, a little extra fat on your hips and thighs, and your skin gets softer. Here, feel.”

And then Eddie takes Steve’s hand and slides it up her shirt. His brain immediately turns off. And yeah, there’s definitely a gentle swell there. They’re small, but Steve can feel the squish of them. Her nipples are pierced. Steve thinks he might die.

“Wow,” he squeaks, about five embarrassing octaves higher than his normal tone. “Cool!”

Eddie grins as she removes his hand from her tit. “Yeah, cool. I’d let you fondle them a little more, sweetheart, but they’re still growing. Kind of sore.”

Steve blushes, rubbing his hand on his thigh and desperately trying to will his boner down. “Man, I wish I could grow boobs,” he sighs, a little wistfully.

“You can, y’know,” Eddie says, with a little chuckle and a soft smile. “What’s stopping you?”

That. Steve hasn’t considered that. A hundred things come to his lips- he’s not like that, he’s not one of those- a hundred things that he knows are absolutely terrible reasons. If Robin were here she’d either be whacking him upside the head or giving him that really sad look she does whenever he’s mean to himself.

“Hey,” Eddie says, speaking softly and laying a gentle hand on Steve’s knee. It shocks him out of his spiral as he looks up into her big brown eyes. “Y’know, I’ve got some makeup in my van. If you wanted to try some things out. No one here will judge you.”

“I- yeah,” Steve is breathless. “I’d like that. Uh- my friend-”

“Oh, is she real? I’ll be honest, I kinda thought you were doing the ‘oh I’m not gay I’m just here for a friend’ thing.”

Laughing, Steve looks out over the crowd. “No, she’s real. Let me just let her know I’ll be gone for a moment- honestly she’s probably halfway to third base with some girl anyway-”

And sure enough, Robin is more than ready to let Steve wander off once he peels her off a pretty girl on the opposite side of the club. He rejoins Eddie, who leads him down the street towards her van and helps him into the back. She takes out her makeup bag, cracking jokes about their wildly different styles while she delicately brushes powder over his face. She generously refrains from threatening to take his eye out with the eyeliner pencil (more than once at least), and apologises for not having anything more ‘babygirl’ than her bright red lipstick. Steve can definitely say this is the most fun he’s ever had in the back of a van.

Finally, masterpiece done, Eddie rummages in her bag for a little compact, presenting it to Steve with a dumb little bow. Steve takes it with a roll of his eyes, and prepares himself with a deep breath.

The person in the mirror is beautiful. Glowing skin, huge doe eyes lined with smokey eyeliner and lashes a mile long, practically sinful lips. Steve almost doesn’t recognise himself, except that he does. He really, really does, in a way he now realises he never really has before. It’s the first time he’s ever looked at his face in the mirror and not wanted to change anything.

“You’re a really pretty girl, Stevie,” Eddie says with a gentle smile.

Steve can’t look away from the mirror. “Yeah,” she says, a red-lipped grin stretching across her face. “I really am.”

#steddie #t4t steddie #transfem steve harrington #transfem eddie munson #stranger things #my fics