#its about the denial of intimacy!! the wanting to be close but being too scared to crawl under the covers!!!! the themes of protection and

[spiritunwilling]

character sleeping at the foot of a loved one's bed >>>>>

#granted you can also have them sleep in a chair right next to the bed but the staging isnt quite as dramatic #its about the denial of intimacy!! the wanting to be close but being too scared to crawl under the covers!!!! the themes of protection and #safeguarding!!! subtle shifts in the relationship dynamic!! #or the i was sitting here to make sure no one comes in to hurt you / I'll be right where you need me if you need me but oops i nodded off #but im still here

[inktailsaystuff]

Ghost and Soap Relationship Headcanons

Tw: Mentions of Intimacy

Pre Relationship~

Kind of a slow burn

Ghost was scared of getting attached even more to Soap than he already was 

Ghost was also heavily in denial about crushing on Soap, like it took him ages to finally admit to himself that he liked Soap

Soap was quite the opposite, he had already flirted with Ghost whenever he got a wee bit too drunk and was in denial for a total of two minutes once he realized

Because Ghost is so closed off, Soap just assumed he didn't like him back

Didn’t stop him from flirting with him tho. (But Soap flirts with everyone ESPECIALLY WHEN DRUNK so no one really thought anything of it)

Price saw the vision before anyone else did

Ghost’s version of “flirting” is a bit more tame than actual straight up flirting. If you didn’t know him the way the 141 did you probably wouldn't even notice, 

Ghost’s flirting is more like subtle light touches, and lots and I mean LOTS of compliments and praise whenever Soap did something well. 

Gaz clocked in on it when Soap drunkenly confessed his feelings about Ghost to Gaz. (Gaz just assumed that Ghost was Soap’s new target for constant flirting) And while being best wing man he saw how touchy Ghost was with Soap

Gaz is best wing man (He will randomly leave the room to leave Soap and Ghost alone)

Ghost will never admit it nor show it, but Soap’s flirting had him feeling all tingly and happy. It made him feel like he had a chance with Soap. 

And let me tell you. This goes on for months of subtle flirting and romantic/sexual tension for agesssssss, it drives Gaz and Price insane. More so Price funnily enough. 

He just wants them to be happy. 

Like at this point even Laswell knows. Half of the base knows. Even Graves knows/j 

Price is just constantly trying to get Ghost or Soap to confess

Soap decides to confess first? Why? Because Gaz got sick of it and just straight up told Soap that if he’s waiting for Ghost to confess it won't happen and he needs to do it first.

Ghost literally malfunctioned when Soap said that. 

Ghost.exe has stopped working

He just stared at Soap and walked off (He was wondering if this was a cruel joke or not, and he was actually really scared of getting into a relationship)

Soap got sad because he thought that meant Ghost didnt like him back so he decided to do the normal thing. 

And drink his problems away while ranting to Gaz. 

It’s like 3:00 AM when Ghost confesses, he just walks up to Soap’s quarters, enters, wakes him up and tells him that he likes him too and then leaves

Soap is hangover and so confused

It's only in the morning did he realize and almost jumped Ghost while he was trying to eat breakfast

Cue like five months of: are we dating? 

Relationship headcanons~

When they FINALLY became official Gaz and Price almost cried of joy /j

But yeah everyone was like FINALLY they got together

Its slow to say the least 

Once they started dating Ghost became really closed off for a while as a defense mechanism

Soap didn't mind tho, he will happily wait for Ghost to get comfortable

But in the meantime he initiates touches and constantly showers Ghost with affection even if it's sometimes unrequited

Once Ghost has gotten comfortable with this new situation he will open up more

He does cook for Soap and he cooks very well. (Soap can and will burn the kitchen down)

Black cat x golden retriever is real

Separately are the some of the smartest people ever, together they are idiots

I'm not kidding, Soap is the youngest to pass SAS selection and everything… Ghost is really well versed in combat and highly skilled…

But you put them together and Soap can’t tell you what 2+2 is and Ghost doesn’t know how to speak English anymore. 

Ghost is slowly learning Scottish from Soap (He denies the claims)

Despite how he scary he looks Ghost is a sucker for cuddles, he loves just picking Soap up and holding him 

Ghost does tend to wear a mask in their room (like the fabric covid masks) because it gives him a sense of familiarity

Soap embroiders things on Ghost’s home masks like cats and stuff like that

Gaz absolutely teases Ghost whenever he walks out with one of his embroidered masks

NO GHOST DOES NOT ABUSE SOAP HE GREW UP IN AN ABUSIVE HOUSEHOLD HE WOULD NEVER HE'S LITERALLY TRAUMATIZED

Intimacy is a big deal since Ghost got SA’d so they take it very slow 

Soap constantly checks if Ghost is okay even if it’s Ghost that’s leading

They don’t tend to get kinky much since it’s about mutual affection and passion to them because of that they also don't get intimate that often other than like making out and stuff like that

Aftercare is also great, Ghost is a wholesome man and I die on this hill he will happily give Soap anything he wants

Soap’s aftercare is also great since he fusses over Ghost afterwards even if Ghost says he's fine he will be cared for.

Anyway it’s a very wholesome relationship with minimal arguments

When arguing Soap will start screaming in scottish and Ghost justs stands there like “Huh-”

But they don’t argue that much and when they do it doesnt last long… perhaps its the constant nagging fear that they will die in battle and if one dies before an argument is resolved their last memory will be of angry words

Ghost is 10000% protective, he gets so scared when Soap gets injured, like once Soap cut his finger while cutting tomatoes and Ghost literally wouldn't let him into the kitchen for a month

He is possessive in a sense he gets all grumpy when someone else flirts with Soap but unless he thinks Soap is uncomfortable or in danger he won't step in because he knows Soap can handle himself. 

Once they retire from the military they do want to just live in the scottish countryside and own a farm :>

#ghost #cod #call of duty #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x john soap mactavish #soapghost #john soap mactavish #simon riley #john price #kyle gaz garrick #tooth rotting fluff #fluff #angst #cod mw2 #simon cod #john cod #ghost x soap #soap x ghost #soap mw2 #ghost mw2

[ohheyitsokay]

classic

pairing: Jack Daniels (Agent Whiskey) x reader

wordcount: 3k

warnings: none, tropes on tropes on tropes, weird descriptions of things

summary: good, old fashioned fan fiction chaos

notes: there’s no getting around it - everything I write with Jack is inevitably influenced and inspired by @scribbledghost s version of him, particularly her neighbor!whiskey. I tried not to, but I still feel I should give credit!

>>

It was the kind of razor your grandfather would have used – more of a knife than anything, because of course it was.

Of course this would be edge that your housemate used to slide along his jaw and chin and cheeks to make that perfect mustache before work in the mornings. He was the type to love old fashioned, traditional, dangerous things - it made sense. After all, that was why you were staying in the guestroom of his ranch home while your apartment was being renovated. Old fashioned courtesy between friends, of course.

Dangerous.

Jack had caught you watching him, impressed in spite of yourself as the sharp blade scraped over his neck, neatly slicing the hairs on his throat, and pushing your heart into yours. It was unnecessarily intense, dramatic, the touch of risk for the sake of vanity. It made you swallow, awed that he wasn’t covered in little cuts, and almost aroused at how casually he used something so akin to a weapon. And that alone made him smirk, cocky, as though he had been waiting for you to notice, hoping to impress you.

A few days later he’d coaxed you to him, settled in a chair with his legs spread wide with confidence as he handed you the tool, smug with confidence – almost a challenge. He had gotten wrecked at work – he actually had, and it was the perfect excuse to draw you close, make you bend to his will. Schoolyard tactics, really, but all of this was, and it was worth it to have your eyes on him alone, face a breath away from his.

It was about trust more than anything. Not that you would ever hurt him, but the power of being over him was heightened by the intimacy as you lathered the cream over his skin.

His deep eyes bore into you, not flickering to the blade as you tried to focus on your task. If he had asked you a different time, another day, you maybe could have refused, but somehow his wanting your steady hand felt heavy with implication.

Ignoring the quickening steps of your heart, your fingers grasped his chin, shaving away the stubble he’d let grow just for this. Each slice of smooth skin revealed left a thick line of froth and hairs on the blade, and you got to breathe as your turned away to wipe it off. You could feel his gaze, still, but you couldn’t bring yourself to meet it. Hovering over him while he was seated, touching his jaw, leaning close, and meeting those brown eyes would have been too much.

Your denial was as a solid as a wall with half sunk into the ground with cement – almost rooted in your fear of rejection.

It was a challenge to ignore the shots of adrenaline that filled you when he’d reach around you to grab something in the fridge, his chest against your back, hand on your hip. Already you had shoved down the butterflies in your stomach when he’d offered you a place to stay, carried your boxes, and called you sweetheart. You had spent far to long ignoring the way he hadn’t brought a single girl home since you’d been there to fold now and admit anything. Because if you did, there was a chance you would lose your friend forever, and that was out of the question.

You kept your eyes down to keep your hands steady.

For his part, Jack’s plan was only half working. He liked your attention, liked the way your breath hitched as you wiped him clean. But you were closer than you had ever been, patting in the aftershave and you wouldn’t look at him, wouldn’t open the door for him to push the tools and towels aside and kiss you. All he wanted was to grab hold of you and pull you into his lap and make you melt against him but there wasn’t a moment.

You’d been friends for a long time, been there for each other countless times and he had yearned for you almost as long. At first, he tried to deny it too, grabbing at random women and hating himself when he imagined they were you as he pulled them into his room.

Then he’d given that up, stopped pretending anyone could replace you, that anyone else occupied his dreams, anyone else could be as good a fit for him, and went after you full speed. It had honestly been innocent to invite you to stay, instinct instilled in him from his childhood. Still, he had begun to see the opportunities for the two of you to enjoy intimate domesticity right away, when he’d cooked you dinner and you’d talked at his table for hours, finally not worried about having to drive home. He ached for that – not ever really having to leave you, and he spent more nights than he’d like to admit thinking of knocking on your door.

Only… you were still in your denial phase. Not sleeping around just pretending it was normal to sink into his arms after a bad day, to let your friend play with your hair until you fell asleep, to watch his lips as you gently helped him shave.

It was too vulnerable, to high of a risk to go after you with the chance that you weren't ready. The last thing he wanted was to scare you away.

-

“What, really?” you said, genuinely surprised. When you’d accepted to stay, he’d promised you there would be no problems, but now you felt guilty.

His mama was coming to town, and would more than likely be staying with him.

“I’ll find somewhere else!”

Jack was already shaking his head at you, like you were missing the joke, but he looked… almost nervous? You couldn’t tell, it wasn’t something you saw on his face often.

“Actually, sweetheart, I was hoping you could do me a favor,” he was asking, but it’s not like you could actually say no you him, when he shot that winning smile your way. It was like not petting a puppy – and you were the opposite of allergic to cowboy secret agents.

“You know Mama Daniels,” he said and you smiled, having spent many a summer helping her in her garden, and being thanked with dinners heavy with butter and love. “She’ll like you here, she’ll be over the damn moon.” And you conceded. It would be more than nice, to spend time with such a wonderful woman, an Jack had invested in a very comfortable couch. For a week you enjoyed a hopeful bliss, that she would help remind you Jack was just your friend.

The sun was shining through the windows, the winding almost singing a quiet, breathy song, and everything was as spotless as you could manage. Well worn quilts were clean, and you had set up a little station for yourself in the living room determined to make it your home for the week.

Then she came with a jacket that matched her slacks and shoes with little buckles and a paisley suitcase full of presents for her son, who she insisted wasn’t really grown. She hugged you and scolded you for being at work instead of coming to pick her up, and finally settled at the kitchen table, her intentions clear. You were to sit and catch up - Jack was already pulling the sweet tea you’d made from the fridge and a reused sewing tin filled with butter cookies appeared out of her purse.

Meekly, you sat, knowing if you didn’t eat the cookies in quantity, she would pout her whole visit. You could feel Jack settle at your side as she talked, warm and solid, a comfort, despite the heat of the day.

The cookies disintegrated on your tongue, melting with a burst of sweet before the bite was gone. They were full of love and maternal affection and things that you hated to spend money on and made all bad thoughts disappear. You were thankful your mouth was full of one when she mentioned, offhandedly, how plum delighted she was when she found out the two of you were finally dating. Abruptly, you remembered just how wrong your previous hope was.

The sweet lady had been hinting for you to marry her son since before he’d mastered his first lasso, and apparently, she was sure that moment was well on its way.

“And living together, no less!” she was beaming with pride, tradition apparently irrelevant as she chatted happily about it.

Turning to the man by your side, you found him choking, trying to breathe through the cookie he’d accidentally inhaled. There was a white ring around his irises as he stared at you, panicking and aptly confused. Sure your face matched his, you jerked your head at his mother, a silent argument ensuing.

Did you do this?

No!

What do we do?

We can’t break her heart!

It went unnoticed. You felt helpless, drinking your tea and trying not to have a small meltdown in front of a very misinformed lady who had brought you cookies.

He was your friend! And sure, you liked the weight of his arm around your shoulders or could get lost in the drawl of his voice but that was normal! It was normal to be so comfortable with him as the beginning, end, and highlight to each of your days.

Sounding weak even to yourself, a crack, solid and formidable, formed in the wall you created to protect yourself and the friendship you had built.

“Ma’am, I’ll be back in a moment,” you whispered, grabbing your phone as you grasped at air, hoping beyond logic that you could pretend it was an important call.

You didn’t exactly run away, but you walked very quickly outside, mourning the loss of your little guestroom, and the privacy it offered.

Jack would never, ever smack his mama but he did want to say some choice words. Nothing could have prepared him for the last two minutes of his life, first the embarrassment of the misunderstanding and then… the fear in your eyes.

He hated it, hated it so much more than he ever thought he could, hated that it was probably his fault it was there. And he hated that it shrouded the longing he had begun to see there, these past few weeks. Long strides carried him after you, hearing his own voice distantly saying words, explaining maybe, as he left the table.

There was a tree, trunk too wide to wrap your arms around, thicket of leaves creating bean-shaped shadow on the ground, by one corner of his home.

You were behind it, almost like a child, letting the bark press lines into your forehead. The dappled lighting did wonders for you – you looked the perfect picture of a storybook wanderer in distress.

Jack slowed, overwhelmed with the desire to encompass you in his arms, slay your dragons, and whisk you away. Now was not the time.

He kept his voice soft, reaching for you in place of his hands, trying hopelessly to find the root of your panic.

You were just as quiet, telling him it was fine, you would pretend, as long as you’d talk tonight, after she went to sleep. His heart was creating dramatic movie scenes where you would float into his room, declaring your love for him, before settling in his arms, but he shook them away, agreeing.

Smile over-bright, you touched his smooth cheek a moment too long, before pushing past him back towards the house.

He allowed the afterglow of his daydream to wash over him only a moment before he jogged go catch up with you.

-

The quilt on Jack’s bed had chickens on it, of all things. It was one of those that had clearly been homemade, years and years ago, taken care of, but worn at the edges with memories and use. One pillow had a dent for his head, the other was squashed into an unrecognizable shape

You didn’t know that it wasn’t like that, before. That his arms had only started searching for something to hold onto since you had been around.

All of his room was new to you – it made you feel strange, realizing that for weeks you’d been in his home but not this part of his space.

The afternoon his mother came, he’d been called into the field. You had never quite seen the look on his face as he reasoning fell on deaf ears – desperation and frustration like ants ruining honey on a picnic. The flannel across his back bunched as his shoulders had filled with tension before he stripped it off to change into his work clothes. Jack kissed his mothers cheek and spewed instructions for the both of you, some apologies spilling out and others kept just behind his eyes as he grasped your hand.

His final command was for your ears alone -  that you take his room, and you’d been too panicked to refuse. The last three days, the smell of him and the memorabilia  scattered around the space kept you company when his mother went to sleep and you slept in his bed for the first time, alone.

It was surprising how sentimental he was. His hooks had another cowboy hat on them, a little wider, brown, and considerably more worn. There was a stack of printed photos in a little box by his bed – it was open, and some of the photos had oil-worn fingerprints along the edges. You found ones of you, and your heart flipped inside your chest.

You should have realized it was impossible to deny yourself, your feelings, with him surrounding you like this. Each thing you learned, each reminder of him practically reached off of the walls, as if he were there, coaxing your heart into his hands. It felt silly, almost, that you even tried to ignore it - you had missed him the moment his hand left yours. Now you had all the time to process, surrounded by his neatly folded shirts and the line of his favorite boots.

The idealized illusion of your relationship had only lasted half a day of living with his mother. Her warm brown eyes were too much like her son’s – you couldn’t lie to them. It was good though, for her to hold your hand a listen to you talk as the birds gossiped outside the window and steam seeped out of the pie you helped her bake. Miraculously, she wasn’t disappointed with you, commending your honestly, and explaining that if she was patient until now, then she could certainly continue to do so.

The more you talked to her, the more you suspected that she was right, all along. She helped you dig up the walls, her kind determination the shovel you needed for those concrete roots.

You would work and talk and tuck yourself into his chicken-clad blanket at night and finally, finally let yourself think of him, allow yourself to be in love with him.  You didn’t know he had started actually living in his room again, when he’d started letting himself love you. That he thought of your smile when he’d found his old quilt. Still, the more you thought, the more you could admit to yourself that maybe, just maybe, he loved you too.

That was how Jack found you - absorbed in your thoughts - the whiskey in his hand as forgotten as the mission and the agent he’d played for the past seventy eight hours and twenty one minutes.

He watched through the half open door, words failing him as you sat up, startled and the way your eyes searched for injuries made him want to eat you alive. 

There was nothing that could’ve prepared him for the sight of you in his bed, even though he had told you to be there and three days to daydream about it. It was intensely intoxicating, having someone care for you so intimately. 

With his sheets sliding down around your waist, you looked as good as the pie on the counter, as if a single snapshot could encompass everything he wanted home to be.

You were wearing a shirt he’d given you, years ago, and he swallowed, hard.

“Are you up for that talk?” his voice was rough. It would have been nice, to relish in the feeling of you checking him over, attention on him as he unwound, but he couldn’t wait. This moment was three days overdue.

“I told your mom we aren’t dating,” you blurted and he smiled, having guessed as much. Smoothing the blanket, your hand patted the spot next to you, your legs crossing.

In that, Jack knew something had changed since he left you. The flickering fear had fled your eyes, and you seemed settled into your skin more than ever before.

He sat next to you, having played over how this talk would go a million times, and still not finding the right words. Confidence was easier to find when he was flirting, poking at you, but seemed foreign in the din lights of his bedroom. Instead he shifted trying to lean back with his arm along the headboard, hoping he didn’t seem like a teenager trying to buy himself time.

You began to talk, saving him, and all the things you’d processed with his mama tumbled out of you before you were realizing that you were confessing how much he truly meant you. In hindsight, it shouldn’t have been strange how comfortable you felt, but in the moment, you were in awe.

Jack was as handsome as always, if a little roughed up, like he’d worn the same clothes a few days in a row. You wanted to run your fingers over the short, patchy beard he had going, and without a second thought, you did, feeling his cheeks move as he smiled crookedly and leaned into the touch.

There was only a moment of quiet, crickets outside, before he said, “I missed you, too.” And then, “Will you stay, sweetheart?”

When you whispered, “Where else would I go?” he kissed you.

It was late, and there were still words unsaid, questions to be answered, but you both let yourselves get lost, exploring each other. Long moments passed, letting all the pent up yearning overflow like cool water after a long, hot day. Then the next steps came out, whispered between kisses and as he moved over you, shucking the final walls between you, you found yourselves actually dating, and maybe even actually living together. 

Old fairy tales and historic romances played in the back of your mind, inserting their logic into your life like had never quite made sense before.

And you wondered if you had time in the morning, and his mama didn’t give you too much grief, if he would let you help him shave, and eat pie for breakfast. Because for the life of you, you couldn’t think of a single reason why not.

<<

Taglist:

@fangirl-316 @scribbledghost @writeforfandoms @0celestialbitch0 @beautyagegoodnesssize

#this got away from me #jack daniels x you #jack daniels x reader #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x you #kingsman #maybe i don't know people

[cherrysha]

Uvo’s First Time With You

This is tooth rottingly sweet Uvo because i really cant help myself. im weak fr that big ass boi.

Requests are Open atm

Summary : I have this headcanon where Uvo doesn’t physically punish his girl *ahem* captive fr not wanting him... he just slips her a lil smthn smthn at dinner one night..

Word Count: 3,691

Warnings: dubcon/noncon, Yandere!Uvo, drugs, unprotected sex, cockwarming, kidnapping, tiniest mention of blood, mentions of violence, aaand I think thats it.

As per usual 18+ crowd here. No minors should be reading this.

He just sits there after dinner, quieter than usual as he waits for it to kick in.

His arm draped across the back of the couch and he just feels you slowly start to squirm around more and more, he lets his eyes wander over you.

“Is everything okay sweetheart?”

“Yeah...it’s just.. really hot in here Uvo” you whisper to him.

And you saying his name like that,, already so needy for...something, has him trying to hide the smirk on his face.

“I’ll adjust the temperature for you then.”

And beFORE he even has a chance to get up your whining at him not to leave. (which is COMPLETELY out of character since you usually are uncomfortable just being around this giant of a man who quite literally kidnapped you)

“I just wanna lay down Uvo.. I don’t feel good”

And there it is again. Usually he can’t even get you to look him in the eye but nOW?! Your saying his name and clutching onto his t-shirt like ur fighting the urge to wrap yourself around him.

He nods his head, keeping a straight face as he gruffly replies with “Go lay down then”

You just let out an impatient sigh and bury your face into his side.

And the bastard KNOWS you want HIM to lay down with you!! But he wants to hear you say it. Wants to see that pretty blush on your face when you get flustered.

You whine out “Uvo...” and stare at him, mentally trying to communicate your need without having to say it out loud. Not really understanding what you want, or maybe you do but you’re so far in denial that you don’t want to acknowledge it.

“Tell me what you want or I won’t give you anything at all.”

And he watches as a pout makes its way across your features.

With a huff you crawl into his lap, arms reaching as far up his tall frame as they can to grip onto his shirt again. Pressing yourself completely against him. You make eye contact for the first time that night.

“I - I want you to lay down with me... please Uvo?”

To say he’s shocked is an understatement

The man is beyond words. It’s only been 15 minutes since he slipped you the drugs and you’re already more comfortable with him than you’ve been since he took you months ago.

“All you had to do was ask sweetheart.”

It’s only been seconds from your statement and you don’t even care about laying down anymore. Can’t even really remember that you were having a conversation or what it was even about. All you can think of now is how hot you are, how your clothing is too itchy and constricting. Your skin is on fire.

Uvo’s body temperature is way hotter than yours normally, and even now he’s still very warm. But to you it feels like heaven. His warmth like a soothing balm over your skin.

“Uvo I need.. I need to take this off” you squirm and try your hardest not to fall off his lap as you wrestle out of your shirt.

His grip on your hips tightens a little. You miss the groan that manages to pass through his lips, too distracted with your own mission of getting out of the straight jacket of a shirt.

He watches you for a minute, panting at the way you’re accidentally grinding down on him. So focused on getting comfortable that you completely forget where your sitting, or that Uvo’s eyes are watching you undress.

“L-Lets get you into bed first sugar” and he removes your clenched fists from the fabric of your shirt. He’s playing the part of an innocent man, but his true motive is that he wants to savor this. He doesn’t want to rush through the moment so quickly that he doesn’t have time to truly indulge in it. To drown in it.

At this point the drugs are kicking in HARD. All you can think of is your need for.. something. You just need it. And the frustration from the denial is mixing with the pain in your gut.

“No Uvo! I need it off.. all of it off! Please it hurts so bad. Please Uvo...”

You’re crying now, hitting his chest weakly with your closed fists.

Uvo’s lap us soaked from the wetness betwen your thighs. He’s not sure if you even notice. That along with the way you’re throwing your little hissy fit, squirming all over him has his head leaning back against the couch, stifling the moan that’s threatening to make it past his clenched jaw.

He collects himself, taking a deep breath before standing up, hands firmly planted on your ass to keep you as close as possible to his body.

He’s so tall that he has you pressed against his lower abdomen, your legs wrapped as far around his trunk of a torso as they can.

Your moving harder in his hands, panting as he takes you up the stairs.

At first he thinks youre struggling to get away from him, so used to your rejection that it takes him a minute to realize you’re rubbing your clothed crotch against his stomach, sighing at the friction of it.

You don’t even realize your doing it tbh. The drugs clouding your mind of any awareness you had. All you know is that moving your hips is making the pain in your gut a little more tolerable.

Uvo stops and just watches. Your breathing heavy as you rub yourself against him, little whispers of his name passing through your parted lips.

He realizes in that moment that he’s a goner. He expected this to be different, expected you to fight against it tooth and nail just like you fought against him over the months he’s had you. He knows you won’t stay this needy, but even now the intimacy you’ve shown him is enough to last him years to come. He’s prepared to go through whatever means necessary to feel this again.

You don’t even register he’s stopped or his heavy gaze watching you intently. You grab his shirt, hiking it up so you can feel the dips and curves of his stomach, greedily soaking up the soothing warmth against your hands, your body still unconsciously moving against his now exposed chest. 

He listens to you moan in relief, watches as your face contorts in pleasure. Uvo starts walking again, albeit a little quicker this time. His mind wandering to the warm slick you’ve just covered his stomach with. He’s painfully hard, needing it just as much as you do.

And in all honesty I don’t think Uvo could deny you anything besides leaving him ofc.

So he gets you in bed and helps you remove everything besides your underwear even though you tried to take that off too and just waits for it... lays there and holds you, waiting for you to tell him what you want from him.

Yes, he could take you by force if he wanted to but this man craves your love and he knows if you give in willingly you know besides the fact he drugged you you’ll see him as your savior. There for you when your hurting, aching, desperately needing help. 

“Uvo.. please.. shirt off” is all he can make out of your incoherent mumbling.

And this fucker

“Your shirt is already off baby”

He’s making it difficult on purpose. Stringing you out so he can see you sob for him.

“No...no. You undress. Please? Please..”

And that’s enough.

His patience is wearing thin. Months and months of craving you. Wanting you to love him but only getting one word replies and scared tears had him yearning for your affection, to the point it made him sick.

He’s never wanted anything as desperately as he’s wanted you. And you wanting him back? He’ll do anything to have his feelings reciprocated.

He takes everything off, even stripping out of his boxers.

You sob when he pulls away to shuck out of his clothing, fat tears sliding down your face at the loss of his touch.

It only takes him seconds but it’s long enough to have you in hysterics

He shushes you, laying you on his chest as he wraps an arm around your waist. Running his fingers through your hair, whispering in your ear:

“It’s okay”

“I’m here”

“I’m not leaving you baby”

Until you’ve calmed down. His skin on yours is a godsend. You actually kiss him first, moving in as he’s whispering to you and catching him off guard.

It’s open mouthed and sloppy, your need making you desperate.

When he starts to kiss you back you whine into his mouth, not being able to stop yourself from moving your hips.

Uvo grunts, letting himself roll up against you; loving the squeak you let out into his mouth as his hands grasp your hips.

He could stop right now and it would still be the best moment of his life. His tongue in your mouth tasting your desire and his hips moving in tandem with yours. It’s heaven.

To you it’s pure ecstasy. You’ve never experienced this type of gut wrenching pain before. A need so desperate you’ll do anything to quell it.

Even if it meant letting your captor fuck you senseless.

You’re unashamed. There is no room in your head to think about such things when your body is on fire like this, burning as your floor muscles clench and unclench so hard it’s excruciating. Trying desperately to squeeze around something and adding to the fire when they find nothing.

The little drop of relief you felt with Uvo was enough to spur you on. If he was the cure then consequences be damned. You were trapped anyway.

You learned you couldn’t outrun him, definitely couldn’t fight him, and now you’d just proven that given a little push you’d actually be with him. You let the thoughts float away

If this was your bed, you’d lay in it.

“Y/n” he lets out a grunt as the spot between your thighs coats his cock through the soaked fabric of your panties.

“Y/n... let me take these off.”

You don’t respond. Instead you grind down harder against him.

Uvo tears the flimsy material off of you body, your bra following soon after.

He’s watching the way your breasts bounce at the force, eyes only ripping away when a high pitched whine leaves your throat.

Your eyes are closed, only focusing on his cock sliding between your folds with every glide of your hips.

Hot and thick, you sob with relief. And still, it wasn’t enough.

“Please Uvo”

“Please what baby? What do you want?”

And with the most conviction you’ve had tonight you beg him “I need you inside of me. Please Uvo. Make it stop.”

He’s breathless. You’ve never wanted anything. No gift would satisfy you, no amount of money could buy your love. And with one measly pill he’s got you writhing on top of him, begging for him to fill you up with his cock.

It gives him a head rush. The only thing you’ve ever asked for is to be stuffed full.

And we all know Uvo is packing some heat right?

Uvo even knows he’s huge, and right now this mans ain’t trying to tear you open unless you wanted him to.

Even though he wants nothing more than to simply seat himself fully inside the tight clutch of your warmth, and god how easy it’d be in this position to just pick you up and sit you down on his length, he flips over. Being careful not to use too much strength in his excited state, so you’re laying beneath him on the bed.

You’re disoriented, and by the time you even fully process what’s happened he’s got his middle finger knuckle deep inside of you.

You arch your back, vision going black and mouth opening into a silent scream with how hard you cum just from one drop of relief.

And he’s trying so fucking hard to keep it together. The way your eyes roll back and your sex already trying so desperately to milk him, tightly clenching and unclenching around his digit.

He’s sure you’re going to drive him mad with desire.

You catch your breath and Uvo’s panting along with you too.

“Did that feel good baby?” And you nod up at him, still too dazed to speak.

“I bet you needed that huh?” smiling down at you, eyes blown wide with lust.

But even though his finger is plenty thick enough, it’s like your body KNOWS that it wasn’t his cock. You still ache for him, the release just pouring gasoline to the flames licking up your spine.

Your voice is just a whisper when you ask him

“More...” you look up at him, lips puffy and trails of tears running down your face. “Please”

And not for the first time tonight, Uvo almost snaps. He closes his eyes, blinking slowly before he takes a deep breath.

“Fuck baby... yeah, yeah I know what you want. Just. Just let me get you ready first okay?”

You give a reluctant nod and Uvo slides a second finger into you.

Any pain you feel at how thick he is, is masked by the spine curling burn in your veins. All you feel from the stretch is white hot pleasure.

And with a shaky breath your thanking him again, boosting his ego as he flicks his wrist to push and pull at the heat clutching around his fingers.

It feels like he’s stuck in a vice. So tight and wet for him... only ever for him. Eyes blown wide he watches as you shake beneath him, chasing any chance of stopping the pain you feel. He scissors his fingers open. He needs to stretch you out enough to fit.

When you start to get close again he pulls out. While he does want to draw this out, he mostly does it out of curiosity. Wants to see what you’ll do when denied your pleasure.

He gets his answer quickly as you let out a scream of frustration, moving your hands from the sheets beneath you to grip his hair, using all your strength to try and get his mouth down to yours in search of any piece of him you can get.

Obviously he doesn’t budge he’s like a thousand times stronger than you. BUT you do succeed in lifting yourself up to meet his lips, biting at them with a low growl in your throat.

For once in this relationship Uvo feels completely in control. He has you right where he wants you. Completely feral for him. Your reward is not only the return of his digits, but also a third finger fucking deeply into you as well.

“Lay back down” he growls out “ be a good girl for me again”

And you do. You’ll do anything for him. A sigh leaves your lips as the pain recedes, replaced with the pleasure Uvo is giving you. It towed a thin line between pain. Any time he slowed down it creeped into your consciousness again. He was your salvation, your only respite from whatever was doing this to you.

He’s your god, and after what felt like forever, he finally answers your prayers.

“S’gunna sting baby. Don’ wanna hurt you but I can’t... I can’t take any more.”

His fingers are gone. In their place is the head of his cock sliding between the soft petals of your pussy.

Uvo moans at the feeling. The feeling of you wanting him, slick and waiting for him.

Such a pretty little thing. He wants to mark you up, leave your body bruised with his signature. To feel the weight of your breasts in his mouth. Wants to bite down gently on your shoulder and taste the iron of your blood on his tongue. To feel your lips swallowing around him, to drown in the taste of your cunt as it clenches on his tongue. He wants every single part of you. But most of all, He wants to ruin you.

You moan, pulling him out of his reverie. “I - I need more Uvo! Not enough, please.”

All of those things can wait for now. His focus in this moment is on making you realize just how much you need him.

Gritting his teeth he slides the tip in, watching with wide eyes as it disappears inside of you.

It’s stretches you out, a whine escaping at the noticble sting of it. Uvo watches your face before slowly plunging deeper within you. You let out a cry as he stretches you out.

after a few pushes and pulls, slowly fucking you open Uvo finally sinks down until he’s fully sheathed inside, releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

He’s paralyzed for a moment, his attention solely on how warm and wet you are. It’s firm yet gentle around him. Better than everything he imagined. Like silk, only alive, and he swears he can feel your heartbeat enveloping him.

He buries his head in your neck, licking a stripe up a line of sweat until he’s kissing you again. Swallowing every whimper that slips past your swollen lips.

His mouth stays on yours as he slowly pulls back and ruts his hips against yours completely for the first time. You’re scratching his back and god he wishes you could mark him up. Wishes beyond measure that he could carry the sting of you wherever he goes.

“Yeah..right t-there. Fuck!”

 Your shy demeanor is being forcibly torn away. This is the first time he’s heard you curse, the sound of it making him let out a low growl. Thoughts of how he’s awoken some part of you he’d never seen before floating into his mind. his dirty little girl... he wonders how far he can push you until it becomes too much? It’s a question for another day. One where you’re used to taking his hard length, a day he’s not fucking you open.

“Tell me how you feel sweetheart”

You can’t even remember your own name, let alone construct a fully fledged sentence for the man above you. He’s pressing something deep within you that’s making your head even more dizzy than it was before. You clutch him as he rolls onto his back, laying you on his chest as he swivels his hips up into you, lazily grinding against your clit until your mewling.

“You needed this? Needed me? Just too shy to say it...”

He’s rambling, too far gone with pleasure to dice his words.

“Wanted to fill you up for a long time. You love this huh sweetheart? Love me inside of you like this.. so tight, made for me...All mine.” And then he quiets for a moment. His thoughts leading him elsewhere.

He pulls you tighter against his chest, your name falling from his lips like a prayer. Trailing his hand down to your clit, picking up the pace as he feels the beginning of your orgasm approach.

The pain is a distant memory at this point. The only feeling now was the all consuming pleasure Uvo was giving you. You try to writhe against him as the coil in your stomach threatens to snap, but his grip is iron clad on you. You’re so close, so close that your back starts to try to arch against him.

But with grunt he pulls completely out of you, steeling himself against the agonized wail that pass through your lips.

 “Tell me you love me y/n.”

The denial.. the pain slowly consuming you once again. Your cunt clenches around nothing, broken cries leaving your dry throat.

“Say it and I’ll make you feel better. I’m the only one who can make you feel like this. “

He’s tense but his words are desperate. Brows furrowed as you try, and fail, to squirm out of his grip.

“Uvo...”

“Say it for me sweetheart.”

You gulp, the choice excruciatingly clear as the seconds tick on.

Uvo I ... I love you.” it’s whisper quiet but the way that his fucks back up into your aching core with renewed vigor is proof enough that he’s heard you.

Delirious with your confession he starts talking again. Mumbles interlaced with his sounds of pleasure of how good you are, how tight, how he’d kill anyone who harmed you, whatever you want is yours just say the word, he’s yours. All of him until he draws his last breath.

As he hits that sweet spot inside of you again and again and again the coil snaps. A pleasured cry wrenches what little voice you have left from your sore throat as you’re hit full force. You can’t help how your body thrashes to escape his grip. He makes you cum so hard you almost pass out, black dots clouding your vision as he stills inside of you.

He stops thinking, stops talking as his mouth falls open at the clench of your pussy around him. You squeeze his length, so hard that he doesn’t have to move to cum. He lets your body finish him as he plays with your clit, turning a deaf ear to your overstimulated whine. 

The feeling of your pussy milking the rest of his release inside of you quickly becoming addicting. He’s never cum so hard in his life.

Months of pent of frustration paint your walls, the warmth seeming to soothe what is left of the painful ache of the drugs in your system. You let out a sigh of relief and relax as Uvo moves so he can spoon you, making sure to stay firmly rooted between your legs.

He pets your hair and whispers praises between gentle kiseses to you neck. You must be so exhausted, he knows. You let your eyelids droop, nows not the time to think about consequences. With Uvo’s strong arms wrapped around you, his cock still buried deep, you let yourself be lulled to sleep.

#uvo #uvogin #yandere uvogin #hunter x hunter #uvogin x reader #uvo x reader #reader insert #headcanon #yandere x reader

[nozomijoestar]

Some words on KumiRei since I’m in another Hibike renaissance and can give time to how I feel I don’t agree 100% with any major camps on how its perceived in the anime though I do consider it romantic 

First off I believe KumiRei is not only romantic as a WLW, but both characters are aware of this romantic nature they don’t show anyone else, they are not in full denial nor are they just friends- instead its a complex weave of the two, and they act accordingly

Neither do I believe either is heterosexual but rather Bisexual (Reina) and questioning Lesbian (Kumiko)

I’m drawing from deeply personal experience on it which is part of why I think this way regarding them so in saying that I think the issue is people are too used to formulas when viewing media, if A is seen as true then it must lead to B then C and maybe D and so on, but while I’ve been guilty of the same I think that’s a limiting way to view/engage with art, love doesn’t have to follow the old They confess, Everything is fine in the end, They get married, They have babies etc. path

There’s nothing wrong with liking that concept but when you fixate on holding something to a rigid standard of expectations, then you’re missing other perspectives and bigger pictures, you’re kinda locking yourself away from accepting life is made of lives not just your own, experiences not just your own, and how you choose to deal with those lives and yours (See only the tree, miss the forest and so on)

Hibike! is a show dedicated to human interpretation and expression in all of its characters and their intricate relationships so applying formulas to it to me is inherently missing the point to paint it as something its not trying to be (and reading it as strictly heterosexual is ignorance of an lgbt perspective)

All of that out the way and being said, every Kumiko and Reina interaction is a progression of romance that has the complication of being between two girls in a contemporary setting; every word, every silence, every touch or look is framed as openness for two people who’s entire foundation is struggling to find a place among humanity and peers and even initially toward each other, they have a defined separation between how they see themselves as together, as one, with a completeness they show others only in shades, so that every gesture they make as people with others has consideration they practiced and established first between each other, they are the genesis for a measure of each other’s overall humanity

Kumiko shoots higher because she sees Reina live it; Reina humbles her pride for empathy because she saw Kumiko try it, the list goes on and has been said by many- Kumiko is Kumiko near Reina and Reina is Reina near Kumiko, no gimmicks no tricks no hung up reservations on trust like there is with others, they simply are together and that is so hard to achieve, to be understood

People get caught up on Reina’s unreciprocated (thank god jsdifsj Edit: i rewatched the scene where Kumiko tells Reina she's rooting for her after learning Taki's wife died and I love the sentiment but that's still fuckin gross and I'd really like the entire Taki crush situation squashed completely in S3 whatever form it takes- I get they're teenagers so they don't know better and that kinda thing does happen (I know from personal experience even) but it's still wrong) feelings for Taki-sensei as they do the Shūichi + Kumiko situation then think that means KyoAni has no concept of homosexuality for not depicting the expected formula cishet couples (and Yuri as an exploitative genre) depict rather than remember that for now and for most including myself lgbt relationships are not part of the accepted normal and so can't be compared nor should they be expected to integrate in the exact same way to be valid- and Kumiko and Reina themselves seem to operate on knowing this which lends them an air of sadness to a degree because they can't (for Kumiko and her CompHet/Side that dislikes upsetting people which I feel lead her to accept then leave Shūichi's romantic interest even more so because in the end being in love with him isn't who she is and walking away there is growth on her part) be their entire selves and act in more intimate ways on their homosexuality than they already are

They know their closeness is special to them, their attraction is special, they know it's not how they treat other friends, and they know by how they keep treating each other that it's a level of romance especially in the way they say This is a confession of love not just in having said such a thing, they're not in denial enough to stop being as they are together but they are struggling to reconcile and build on how they see their other relationships which includes the men in their life and social expectation given their lgbt sides in their identities, not just because the series treats them as people but because they're teenagers (I feel like people forget they're kids all the time), and no teenager ever has all of themselves sorted out at their age even more than most adults, teens should be allowed to safely explore what the hell the world and other people mean for them to discover themselves and that's what I think is happening

When I was their age I didn't consciously realize my best friend was the love of my life since we were 11 in my eyes because of denial and fear to act on it or take a chance on my intensity being reciprocated, instead I loved her more than I loved myself while still having crushes and being in love with other girls all the time- even as she and I had what I felt was the same level of intimacy, love, and openness, we even entertained the idea of growing up to live together and it was only as an adult that I finally looked back and saw what she told me she already knew about me being in love

Reina and Kumiko canonically mull over the idea that they'd be separated as time goes on, and I think the observation shouldn't be When will they be a couple but rather They're too scared of going all the way as a couple for life to pull the rug from under them, they are for now in love and guarding it, preserving it with the last bit of distance they possess in themselves, and the question is when will they be comfortable enough to not need that fear

Human relationships are complicated and multilayered and can never be fully defined by set order and if the show accepts that then it's how I want to see it

#kumirei #hibike! euphonium

[loch-lomund]

Love Me Anyway (Please)

When Eddie hears a soft thump on his back porch at 11:07 pm, he’s got a pretty good idea of what or rather who, it is.

“Ed-Eddiee?” Buck slurs.

“Are you drunk, Buck?” He reeks like a distillery.

“You said you didn’t recommend hitting things.”

“Yeah, well I wouldn’t have recommended this either, moron."

Link to read on the AO3

When Eddie hears a soft thump on his back porch at 11:07 pm, or he’s got a pretty good idea of what or rather who, it is. Buck’s having a really hard time with his parents’ visit- and honestly Eddie’s been half expecting him to show up all night. Buck had been going at the bag pretty hard this afternoon, but he’s not like Eddie when he’s upset. He doesn’t like to be left alone.  So Eddie’s even left the porch light on. But when he doesn’t hear Buck’s key in the door, and he does hear the boards on his back porch creaking like someone’s lingering out there, he knows something’s off.

He tip toes to the door, grabbing his baseball bat from behind the couch on the way- Eddie thinks his paranoia is understandable considering the shitstorm that has been his life the past few years- and he pauses at the door, hand poised at the door knob, and listens. He hears the soft but unmistakeable sound of someone breathing on the other side of his door, and his heart begins to pound, his only thought to protect his home and son. He counts down to himself- 3, 2, 1 and rips the door open,  bat swinging wildly, and half way to its target when he realizes-

“Buck?!”

His best friend has tumbled inside backwards, losing his balance from having the support of the door he’d been leaning on so heavily abruptly removed. He’s clutching the wall now for support, reacting slowly and not at all defensively enough for someone who had just nearly been attacked with a baseball bat.

“Ed-Eddiee?” Buck slurs.

“Are you drunk?” Buck reeks like a distillery, and he’s not doing a good job supporting his own weight, leaning awkwardly against the wall in Eddie’s cramped entryway.

“You said you didn’t recommend hitting things.”

“Yeah, well I wouldn’t have recommended this either, moron. Christopher is home, you know.”

Buck looks stricken at that, and he immediately turns as though to leave, swaying clumsily as he goes.

“M’sorry, Eddie. I’ll go- Chris shouldn’t see me like this.”

Exasperated, Eddie tugs Buck back into the living room. Despite his aborted movement towards the door, Buck lets himself be led.

“If can promise to be quiet, he won’t have to- he’s down for the night. Where do you think you’re gonna go, anyway? How did you even get here, huh?”

Buck looks at Eddie through bloodshot, half closed eyes, “think I walked.”

Mierda.

Eddie hauls Buck into the bathroom and runs the sink, wetting a warm wash cloth and handing it to Buck. He finds the spare towels and takes stock of Buck again, who is staring intently down into the bowl of the sink, shoulders hunched, washcloth being gripped tightly and also uselessly in his right hand. Buck’s losing time in that way of drunken misery. Instead of just leaving Buck to it, Eddie finds himself in parental mode, running the shower and sticking his hand in the stream to make sure the temperature is just so, the action practiced from countless nights with Chris.

“Get in.”

Buck looks like he might say something, protest rising in his expression.

“Evan, take a shower.” Eddie says sharply, a military tone underlying the softness of the command

Buck’s face crumples, and his already reddened eyes sting with tears that don’t fall.

“Please, please don’t call me that.” Alarmed, Eddie lurches forward and grips Buck by the shoulder. He doesn’t often call Buck by his real name, but it’s never caused a reaction like this before.

“Okay, okay. I won’t. I’m sorry. Get in the shower, Buck.”  And Buck’s nodding, obediently stripping and stepping under the spray. Eddie barely gets out of the bathroom in time to give Buck his privacy, and he feels the heat rising to his own cheeks as he catches a glimpse of his friend’s rippling back and ass. He’s unsure if the blush is out of embarrassment for Buck’s naked vulnerability, or if it’s out of attraction. Maybe a bit of both. Either way, now’s not the time for these thoughts.

Eddie busies himself in the kitchen, brewing a large mug of herbal tea. He winces when he hears Buck gagging, but he’s a little relieved as well. He doesn’t know how much Buck drank but he knows it was way too much. He’s glad some of that is leaving his system, however unpleasantly. He opens the bathroom door partway and wordlessly hands in a spare toothbrush. Buck, who’s upright again at the sink and now wearing a towel around his waist, takes it, clumsily. Eddie notices that Buck’s hands are shaking, fine tremors making their way through him. But Buck stubbornly avoids eye contact, so Eddie leaves again. If he thinks he hears a sob, he pretends not to- if Buck doesn’t want him to know he won’t push. He sets down two mugs of tea and waits in the living room.

Buck finally emerges wearing a pair of Eddie’s sweats and an LAFD hoodie that could belong to either of them. His eyes are clearer when he sits down next to Eddie on the couch. He wraps both hands around the thick mug Eddie’s prepared for him and lifts it to his lips. His hands are still shaking, and he sloshes some of the tea onto his hoodie, wincing at the heat, but drinking deeply.

Without looking at Eddie, he intones, “thank you.”

“There’s nothing to thank me for, Buck.”

“But there is!” Buck’s making eye contact with Eddie for the first time tonight, and what Eddie sees there all but breaks his heart.

“It’s what we do, Buck. I’ve got your back- you’ve had mine, and Christopher’s, more times than I can count.”

“No one’s ever-” Buck gulps and tries again, “No one’s ever…”

“No one’s ever, what, Buck?” Eddie prompts gently. Buck just looks up at Eddie, desperate to say something and unable to get it in the open.

“No one’s ever wanted me!” Buck bursts out, and now that it’s been said, he’s gasping for breath like he’s just run a marathon, his hands over his mouth trying to muffle the sound so that he doesn’t wake Chris.

Eddie feels that outburst like a slap to the face. It’s such a simple, raw statement that pleads for acknowledgement and tears and tears at Eddie’s heart. Eddie reels himself back from his first reaction- denial- because he knows it won’t be helpful.

“What makes you say that, Buck?”

“I always knew I was never enough but I didn’t understand why,” and Buck’s voice breaks a little on that word. “I was a replacement. And not a good one.”

“What are you talking about, Buck?” Eddie asks softly.

“I never knew, but Maddie told me tonight-by accident- I don’t know if she or anyone ever would have told me.” The words are tumbling out of Buck now, and his breath is hitching in these painful sounding gasps that are not-quite sobs.

“I had a brother. He died- and- my parents had me. I don’t- I don’t know why, because they found it so hard.  All I know is that I was never enough. They couldn’t l-l-love me.” Buck’s hesitation on that word makes Eddie hurt for him. “They said we- they said I made it too hard.”

Buck’s not getting enough air, and he has to stop for a second. Eddie softly, tentatively places a hand on Buck’s back and starts rubbing circles.

Eddie’s not too comfortable with physical touch- he’s not talking about a friendly pat, a shoulder bump, legs pressed together on the way to a battleground or a fire- an elbow thrown here or there teasingly. Those kinds of touches he’s used to, been used to since his time in the army, and he gives them out easily.  He’s not even talking about sex, the physicality and sharp pleasure of which comes naturally to him. But physical intimacy- the kind that accompanies vulnerability and softness- that’s difficult.

His withdrawal in that way was a key symptom of his PTSD when he returned to the States. It was an important reason behind the loss of connection that spelled the demise of his marriage. He had to work on it, hard, when he first got Chris back in his life. He’d even discussed it with his therapist and Chris’. Eddie learned to step up for Christopher, and now he’ll unhesitatingly take his son into his arms.

But Buck doesn’t struggle with touch. He folds Eddie into a hug when he thinks Eddie’s had a bad day- he sits with his arm around Chim and Hen in the truck, and he unashamedly holds Maddie’s hand when they’re out on walks. He’s even seen Buck kiss Christopher on the forehead before bed. Maybe, as Eddie’s learning, Buck’s physicality is a direct result of his cold upbringing. What Eddie knows for sure, though, is that Buck thrives on physical intimacy. And right now, he needs a physical reminder that he is loved.

Eddie’s hand has made its way to the back of Buck’s neck. He gives it a squeeze. Buck forces another painful truth out:

“They wanted Daniel, not me. They said I was hard to love.”

And Eddie…can’t listen to this anymore. He surges forward and pulls Buck right into his arms and half into his lap in a tight hug. It’s awkward because Buck’s a big man, but Eddie’s determined. He wants to say so many things but words aren’t Eddie’s forte and all that comes out is this:

“They were wrong.” But it’s enough. Eddie is enough.

Buck whimpers into Eddie’s hoodie, the sound hurting Eddie as much as Buck. He breaks down, burying his head in Eddie’s neck. He’s crying in earnest now, big sobs that make his back tremble and that he’s trying his best to muffle. He cries like he’s twelve years old again. Eddie’s a little scared with the force of it. He just holds on, rubbing bigger circles into Buck’s back. Buck cries and cries, and eventually the sobs gets smaller and turn into little breath hitches. Eddie finds himself pressing a kiss into Buck’s temple before he can stop himself.

He pours his feelings into his grip on Buck, which he adjusts and keeps even after Buck stops crying. Eventually, Buck lifts his head and pulls back.

“S-sorry. I think I snotted all over you,” Buck sniffs and wipes his eyes and face on the sleeve of his hoodie. Eddie snorts.

“Sure did. You’re buying the pizza for the next month,” he says, trying for lighthearted. He strips off his wet hoodie and catches Buck looking. Even though he’s been crying, Buck’s still fucking stunning. Suddenly,  Eddie’s very aware in a different way of Buck’s closeness. His blood is pounding in his ears, and he’s gonna need to take a minute. He stretches, going for nonchalant, but no sooner has he got his arms over his head than Eddie’s the one crowded against the wall, and Buck’s kissing him soundly. Eddie’s body reacts immediately, jeans tightening and tongue slipping easily into Buck’s mouth.  Pretty quickly, though, sober heads-in this case Eddie’s- prevail.

“Buck-” he gets out between kisses.

“Yeah? Buck growls, stripping Eddie’s shirt off. Eddie groans long and low when Buck presses them together.

“Buck, wait. Stop.” Buck leans back, reeling a little. His eyes are filling up again and that’s the absolute last thing Eddie wants.

“No, I mean-“ If Eddie’s a little jumbled at the moment he thinks he should be forgiven- “Yes, stop. But just for now.”

“Eddie?”

“You’re still a little drunk, Buck, and it’s been a big night. When we do this, I want it to be with a clear head.” Buck nods, slowly.

“When, not if?”

“I don’t think there’s been an ‘if’ in my mind for a long time, Buck. But there’s a lot at stake here, and…” Eddie hesitates here- he doesn’t want Buck to take this the wrong way, but he needs to say it for his own sake.

“What is it, Eds?”

“When we cross that line, I need to know it’s because you really want me, and not because you need to feel wanted.”

Buck’s eyes fill visibly with emotion again, and Eddie winces, because he knows that had landed hard. But Buck surprises him. He pulls Eddie into a hug, and because they’re standing now, it’s Eddie whose head fits under Buck’ chin.

“You’re right, Eds. But I won’t ever let you feel unwanted.” It’s Eddie’s turn to feel his eyes stinging a bit. He takes Buck by the hand and leads him down the hall to the bedroom. They sleep soundly, and in the morning Chris’ energetic begging for pancakes will give Buck reason to regret his decisions as he suffers through a hangover and Eddie’s amusement at his expense.

#buddie #buddiefic #9-1-1 fanfiction #911 4x04 #spoilers

[plutoswrath]

hi there.. can you explain Saturn in the 8th house.?The information i’ve gotten on this seems to not go that deep, ironically.

Hello!

Saturn in the 8th feels like restriction when it comes to intimacy. With this isn't necessarily meant physical intimacy, it is rather the allowance of letting people in and get close. There is an intensity, as well as an intense seriousness about these people. Destined to be born again and again, having to shed their skin seemingly a lot more than others do, yet they fear change. They are controlling, not knowing how and when to let go. Trust and loyalty is held very high and they don't give it to just anyone because they can be fiercely loyal – they have been confronted by the brutal reality of the fast-moving world and probably have been betrayed in some sort. There could have been a denial in comfort, shelter and warmth, they might have found themselves alone often. Showing the core seems most likely impossible, as for these people have either experiences that they want to keep in their closet, hidden, or brought over from a past life some sort of passed on guilt/trauma they carry around and try to distinguish. Adding on with the past life aspect, this can be a reason for lots of 'unfounded' paranoia these natives experience. This placements talks about allowance of how to manage your emotional boundaries and affairs with people as well – how far are you willing to go for others and yourself? Intimacy issues can lead to an inability to express their sexual needs and desires, even though stepping into their sexual power (with this is never solely meant physical intimacy btw! It's more an issue of the life force and strength within us that keeps us going!) is very hard. They literally feel like hanging by a thread. The 8th house is the house of possessions. It is well known that Saturn in the 8th house individuals might find themselves with inherited money of spouse or handling the money of others, watching over their sending behaviors. But this also deals with the possessions of the soul: Saturn in the 8th house individuals find themselves carrying around the “monsters” or secrets of others, ultimately finding themselves in the role of the counselor when they themselves deal with their demons on the side. This house can feel like payment. Ultimately feeling really 'doomed' because karma seems to strike back really hard and fast when the individual doesn't trust its gut. But this requires to tell from actual intuition and fear. Loneliness can occur as a result as these people usually use isolation as a coping mechanism. But nothing is ever 'doomed' in astrology. This house is a real test of patience, but ultimately it is about responsibility for yourself and forming trust in life. Not only yourself but trusting the world, trusting in time. These people tend to dig too deep when their mind can't rest and often times hurt themselves even more in the progress, searching for the “truth”. Stay true to yourself and allow healing and forgiveness as well as a healthy amount of transparency, because this is what people often times miss with you. Also: a natural gift for the occult and being psychic. These natives often times don't feel scared of death, since they have 'died' many times in their current life. This can also indicate being confronted with death early on or continuously in life, more so than others. Early or very painful death of an authoritative figure that has influenced you greatly. Having Saturn in the 8th can indicate that this is a life in your cycle of lives that is meant to teach your soul an important lesson, hardships are meant to be(counts for other 8th house and scorpio placements as well). But remember: you're never 'punished'. It may feel like it, but don't let yourself deceive by the cruelty that is part of life.

#replies #Saturn in the 8th #Saturn #8th house #astrology

[moody-blues-requiem]

Birdbox (Harpy Narancia x afab reader

For the final Halloween fic and the winner of the poll, we have Harpy Narancia!! It’s a perfect monster for him, but one I’d never even considered writing before this. I hope everyone enjoyed their holiday and these fics, and thank you so much for participating! 

n/s/f/w under the cut, warning for some light orgasm denial

"BRUUUNNNOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

A loud screech echoed through the Passione base, easily identified as belonging to Narancia Ghirga. You were reading a novel in the living room while Bruno worked on something in the kitchen, keeping a large pot from boiling over. When you heard Narancia scream, your eyes met his.

"Narancia?" Bruno called. "What's wrong?"

The young man sprinted, quick footsteps could be heard dashing down the hall. He blew past you in a flurry of orange and tan, headed straight for the kitchen. A second pair of footsteps, slower than his, followed.

"LOOK AT WHAT FUGO DID TO ME"

Looking at him from the back, had it not been for his tuft of messy black hair, you might not have recognized him. Everything from his neck to his knees was covered in tan-orange feathers, some with small dark spots and others with snowy white tips. His outstretched arms were covered by wings. From the knees down his legs were bony and... scaly, almost, with three toes each and sharp spurs on the back.

Fugo emerged from the hallway, panting. "I CAN EXPLAIN! I CAN EXPLAIN, HE ASKED FOR THIS!"

“I ASKED FOR WINGS, YOU TURNED ME INTO A WHOLE-ASS BIRD!”

Bruno stepped between the two boys, knowing a fight when he saw one, and stopping it early. “Let’s all take a breath,” he said calmly, looking at both the young men to make sure they were breathing with him. “Okay, Fugo, you first, would you like to explain what happened to Narancia?” 

Fugo, the alchemist-in-training, huffed. “Bird-brain over there begged me to give him wings. I warned him that messing with humans and bodies and shit is pretty advanced work, but he persisted, and I gave in. The spell… He was just supposed to get the wings, but…”

Narancia’s tail feathers flicked in annoyance. “AND NOW I’M A FUCKING HARPY! LOOK AT ME!” The wings had replaced his arms, though he had hand-like claws on the ends of them. Bruno sighed, nodding his head. “I… don’t know if I’ll be able to fix this.”

“Abbacchio is a witch, right?” Narancia chimed up hopefully, with a mumbled “warlock” added by Fugo. “He can change me back!” Bruno seemed unsure, though. “I don’t know if he knows anything about…. This, but, I’ll give him a call. He’ll be out on a mission for the next few days, so I’ll see if he can help by phone. Fugo, would you mind seeing if any of your books have suggestions or resources or… anything?”

Fugo grumbled, starting back to his room. Narancia had turned to you, snuggling up next to you on the couch. It was clear he was scared, but you did your best to calm him, petting his hair and smoothing the feathers down his back. They were surprisingly soft, especially up towards his neck, where the baby feathers looked like the down stuffing from a pillow. “In the meantime, Narancia… try not to get into any trouble.” Bruno shook his head. “I don’t know if we would take you to a hospital or to a vet.” 

-----------------------

The click-clack of Narancia’s talons as he paced across your bedroom floor was an odd sound, filling the otherwise silent room. He would stretch his impressive wingspan, letting all his feathers show beautifully, before pulling his wings in tight to his body and ruffling up, like a bird in the winter chill. 

“Maybe a shower would help clear my head,” he said, thinking out loud. “But…. I don’t….”

“The feathers,” you spoke his thoughts for him. 

“Do you think I can shampoo them, or what? What about that one part of my back I can’t reach?”

“How about I shower with you?” you offered, earning a smile from Narancia. It was nice, a little sense of intimacy and normalcy, Narancia was comforted by your presence. Even through, well, whatever this was, you were by his side. In the bathroom Narancia stripped down while you ran a hot shower for you both, but you froze when you heard him gasp. 

“Nara?”

Narancia’s shout rang throughout the entire base. 

“FUGO GAVE ME A PUSSY!”

The silence that followed was deafening. Sure enough, his dick was still there, but his balls had been replaced by a slit and some folds, covered in a tuft of soft feathers. It… it looked like a pussy. A muffled shout came back from across the base, “It’s called a cloaca! Research it!”

-----------------------

It had been a few nights since the Feather Incident, and Fugo was no closer to finding a way to reverse Narancia’s body back to normal. Giorno had called in some foundation his extended family was connected with, who allegedly had access “to like, all knowledge, they’ll find something”, but who knew how long that could take. For now, Narancia was snuggled in your arms, unable to quiet his mind down enough to fall asleep. The change in his body was just too weird. It didn’t feel wrong, exactly, but it wasn’t right either. His nervous shifting caused you to stir from your rest, opening your eyes, gazing at him softly. “Can’t sleep?” 

Narancia shook his head. “Brain won’t shut up. Freaked out that Mista might call me birdbrain for the rest of my life.” You chuckled in reply, pulling him up a little closer so you could reach him for a soft, sleepy kiss. You could feel your boyfriend relaxing, practically melting in your arms. “Little better?” you asked, once you had both pulled away for a breath. 

“A little,” Narancia replied, before a little grin crossed his features. “But I think I could go for a little more.” 

Soft kisses and gentle caresses quickly grew into bold makeouts and full-on groping. Navigating around Narancia’s new wings and tail was a bit of a challenge, and he had to touch carefully so as not to scratch you with his claws. At least you didn’t have to worry about his hawk feet-- Fugo had whipped up a knitted pair of thick, wooly socks, shaped perfectly for talons. “Consider them apology socks,” he had grumbled. 

Narancia pulled away from your kiss, a little breathless and cheeks flushed pink. You could feel the tent in his sweatpants, but… something was on his mind, you could tell. 

“Question,” he asked. “You know more about, well, these kinds of parts than I do.”

“I know nothing of cloacas, but go on.”

“Right, but. Uh. Does it always feel this weird and sticky when you’re horny? I want to be horny, not sticky.” 

You let out a sharp peal of laughter. “Yes, I mean. I don’t know if ‘sticky’ would be my first word to describe it, but yeah, sticky works. It doesn’t sound as hot though.”

“You put up with so much for me,” he whispered lovingly, before you two fell into a shared fit of giggles. 

“It’s worth it, I promise,” you replied, leaning in to kiss him. “In fact…. I think I might be able to show you.”

Narancia watched carefully as you rummaged through your nightstand drawer, producing a black bag with a golden tie. A present, one Narancia had gotten for you a year or two back. Big but not too thick, long but not painfully so, it was your favorite vibrator. 

“Ok, bef--”

“I want to try it!” 

You were silent. Here you were, about to go on a spiel about how Narancia didn’t have to do it if he didn’t want to. “When am I gonna get the chance for something like this again?”

He had a point, it wasn’t like he would have a cloaca for much longer. Hopefully. It looked like a vagina to you, but with his penis where a clit would be. With a happy shrug you removed the vibrator from its pouch, running your fingers over the purple silicone, smirking at your boyfriend. “Get those pants off, then, and let’s get started.” 

---------------

Narancia was soaked through. His slit leaked a clear, viscous fluid, similar to your own arousal. It tasted, well, a lot like his cum, salty and a touch metallic. His cock twitched when you ran the curved tip of the toy over his slit, pushing the feathers back so his skin could feel the cool silicone. You pushed it in, just a little. Narancia huffed, eyes squinting shut. It was new, you two had played with the idea of pegging but this was different. Less painful stretch, more desire to be filled. His hips rocked forward, taking the toy just a bit deeper. 

“Eager?” you asked, swirling the toy inside him and getting a quick nod in return. You pushed the you in more, past the halfway point, backing out a little, and repeating, a steady in-and-out until the dildo was buried to the hilt in Narancia, only a little bit of purple plastic peeking out from between his feathery mound. 

“Do you like it, Nara?” you cooed, moving the toy just a bit, causing the boy to whine. “Does it feel so good to be this full?”

“Please,” he whispered, eyes squeezed shut with pleasure. “I need you to move, please--”

His back arched off the bed as you began thrusting. The pace was quick, but he took it so well, writhing from the feeling of being filled, the curves and ridges of the silicone cock rubbing against him so well, your other hand coming up to grab his cock--

“Wh-- hey!” he whined. Your fingers held tight around the base of his erection, a makeshift ring. “What’s what for!”

“For this,” you said, pressing a button, the vibrator whirring to life. Had it not been for your fingers, Narancia would’ve fallen apart right then and there. Instead, white spots danced in his vision, his dick twitching in your hands, painfully hard. Just the warmth of your fingers felt so good, he only needed a little more of your touch, he was so damn close! You grabbed the ribbon from your vibrator’s bag, securing it around the base of Narancia’s cock. He wriggled, the pleasure and pressure from the vibrator still fogging his mind. “Please,” he whimpered out, hips bucking. “Come on babe, please…”

“Please what?”

“Please… ngh, you know!” 

You clicked the vibrator up another notch, making Narancia’s back arch. “Babe, th-- fuck, this is cruel! Cruel and unusual puni-- NGHH!” Narancia was cut off by a squawk as you pulled the vibrator from his hole. It was drenched in his juices, just begging to be licked clean… but you had a job to finish. 

“P-PUT IT BACK!” Narancia yelled, wings flapping a bit in protest. “LET ME CUM, PLEASE!” 

There it was, the magic words. In one swift motion you slid the toy back into Narancia’s needy hole, and with the other, you tugged the ribbon free from around his cock. After a split second of twitching he erupted, hot cum shooting up his abdomen, coating his tanned skin, almost high enough to land on his face. His back arched off the bed in a harsh c-curve, wings flapping wildly, blowing your hair out of your face. You weren’t sure if you’d ever heard him moan so loud. 

As quickly as his orgasm had hit it subsided, Narancia’s lithe form collapsing onto the bed in a tired slump. His hair and feathers were equally disheveled, and his chest was coated in his own warm seed. 

“So being sticky’s worth it, huh?” you teased, poking his thigh with the slick-coated toy. 

Narancia nodded in return. “I can already tell that cleanup’s gonna be a bitch, though.” The poor boy sounded exhausted, you made a mental note to grab him a glass of water. “I’ll take care of it, don’t worry.”

Before you could move, Narancia pulled you to his side, resting his head on your chest. “Stay with me first,” he said softly. “Cleanup can wait a few minutes, cuddling needs to be now.”

-------------------

By the morning, Giorno had pulled through with a way to reverse the transformation, but Narancia elected to hold off. “Give me a little more time with it,” he had requested, eyes darting to you, a small smirk on his lips. “There’s still a whole lot that I want to try.”

#Narancia Ghirga #jjba #vento aureo #golden wind #jjba narancia #my writing #va #n/s/f/w #halloween spooktacular

[iamallybee]

Because peeps on my dash are hooked on the Deltadi ship and have got me hooked too, here's a basic outline of how Delta Dawn and Dickory got together in the Gumdrop AU! It also calls back to my other Trolls headcanon posts so you might wanna read those before this one. Putting under the cut because this is looooong!

All his life, Dickory had been told that one day he’ll meet that special someone, he’ll experience certain feelings, of love and intimacy. But Dickory just...never felt it. He felt love for his family but romance? Sexual feelings? It never came to him. During his teenage years, he did feel like he was broken. He felt pressured to start his first relationship, telling himself feelings would come. It...did not end well. In fact, you could say it made him feel more broken than ever.

But then the avalanche happened. Due to the mass loss of yodellers, many of the young adults were pressured to marry and have children quickly to increase numbers and save their culture. In fact, it became a new tradition for yodellers to marry as soon as they turned 18. The only one to refuse this was an 18-year-old Dickory. He may have been shunned a little for his decision (which made him feel worse about his lack of sexuality) but he honestly didn’t have time to think about that anymore. His was still a kid who parents literally just died with a baby brother left behind to take care of. He had no time for marriage, he’d say to the other yodellers. His brother needed him and that is totally the only reason why he couldn’t marry. Throughout his life, Dickory would continue to feel stress and sadness, not knowing about being ace/aro and still believing there was something wrong with him. But at least he has Hickory and his new bounty hunting job to distract him.

Anyway, TWT happened and as soon as Delta found out that Hickory was really two trolls disguised as one country troll imposing on her beloved town, she had them arrested and put on community service for a unspecified amount of time. So she and Dickory did not have the best start in the slightest.

Hickory was soon made to do a report on Pop Trolls and left for Pop Village (and thus beginning his own romance with Poppy and Branch but that’s another story). Dickory was made to stay and do humiliating duties (like clean up after the livestock) while enduring the mockery of the locals and the ridiculously high heat. The only good/kind of less worse thing he saw in this was the fact that Delta’s niece, Clampers, was strangely drawn to him. She would nag and ask him questions about why he has two legs, what are those stumpy things on your hooves and can I bite them? Annoyed initially, he soon warmed up to her as she reminded him of Hickory when he was a child. Their friendship reached a point where they even started playing together. Delta witnessed this one day and maybe, just maybe, her heart may have melted. But only a little.

One day, after a restless sleep, Dickory decided to take a walk about town in the early hours of the morning. His was surprised when his keen ears picked up on a faint, mournful song from the cemetery. He found Delta singing with tears in her eyes to the grave of her sister. After awkward small talk, they both open up about the loved ones they've lost and how it changed them. They found their experiences to be remarkably similar (Delta lost her sister in a mining accident and was left to raise her daughter) and from that point on, they began to grow closer.

Over the next several weeks, Dickory began to actually care about the Lonesome Flats community and his service became a lot more voluntary and a lot less punishing. He would help the elderly, fix up anything that needed fixing, even learned how to herd up the livestock (although his first attempt was a complete hilarious disaster that Growley Pete just loves to tease him about). The locals soon began to think of him as one of their own and gained their respect, in turn gaining Delta's trust.

Delta and Dickory's friendship grew in that time too. In the beginning, she would order him to do certain task or else she would make him do something much more humiliating which used to tick him off. Now, she would ask him or else she would 'threaten' him to make him clean out Growley Pete's hooves, which he would respond with a sarcastic comment with a smile. They were pretty much very buddy-buddy. But the locals weren't blind to the underlying romantic tension between them.

Delta absolutely knew she was having romantic feelings for Dickory but she was at first hesitant. Country trolls are the type to take romance on head first and confidently but she was afraid of scaring him off so decided to bide her time for the right moment. Not exactly made easy when her parents totally shipped them and would try everything in their power to embarrass Delta enough into confessing.

Dickory, on the other hand, didn't know what to feel. Sure, he liked Delta now but she was just a good friend to have a drink and a laugh with, throw sarcastic comments at, arm wrestle with, share personal and past trauma history with, stare at and wish to touch her stupid big beautiful hair, want to hold close to-uh oh!

Suddenly it was like he was a teenager again but this time it was different. He liked her but it can't be THAT kind of love. It didn't exist for him, remember? He couldn't feel that love for anyone because he never did and it would never happen. She's a friend you care a lot about and that's it. Besides, even if there were feelings (which there weren't), it would be best if nothing happened because come on, she would never want someone who didn't like...well, y'know.

Basically, Dickory's in denial pretty hard.

Anyhow, the country trolls have a pretty big shindig one evening where there's plenty of dancing, laughing, drinking and fun. Both Delta and Dickory were having a great time but just as buddies, right? 

However, at one point in the early hours of the morning, they found themselves alone together and Delta, in a drunken stupor with all logic thrown out the window, confesses and boldly kisses Dickory. And then she passed out.

In the days following, things were very awkward. Delta remembered the kiss and was horribly embarrassed for being so careless. She decided it was best if they actually sat down and talked about it like adults. Only problem? Dickory was now deliberately avoiding Delta. He didn't want to ruin the friendship they already had but he also didn't want to have the conversation he knew was inevitably coming.

Finally, a frustrated Delta decided to f this and confront Dickory head on. A huge argument blew up between them (which temporarily cleared out the town) which culminated to Delta demanding to know why he doesn't want to be with her and Dickory yells back 'BECAUSE I'M BROKEN, DAMMIT!'

Silence.

After the shock, the pair of them calm down enough for Delta to gently encourage him to explain further. Dickory shakily and tearfully admits his unresolved negative feelings about his asexuality, the yodellers pressure on him to marry, how much its affected him and how wrong he's truly felt all these years and yet he somehow has feelings for Delta that he doesn't understand and how he can't be the man she wants him to be or give her what she would ultimately want.

Shocked, Delta tells him that she's sorry she ever made him feel this way but she only wants Dickory to be himself and if being himself means that he can't give her certain things then that's okay because she loves him just as he is.

But Dickory, still confused, emotional and a stubborn old goat, decides this is the best time to run off and return home.

Heartbroken, Delta writes to Hickory that his community service is up and he is free to return to his home. She tries her best to continue her duties as mayor but everyone can tell she greatly misses Dickory.

When the brothers reunite back to their homes, they also try to move on as normal but both of them have a lot to think about in terms of the things they went through recently (again, Hickory had his own romantic shenanigans going on as well). One night, the two of them talk about what they went up to in the past weeks and realise that the other has experienced love and are too stubborn to admit it. They even have a big sibling argument about it. I mean whose dumb enough to not look past their own insecurities and see that they are loved and they love them back and they shouldn't let the past hold them down in finding happiness and - oh, I see what's happening here!

Anyway, its agreed upon that Hickory and Dickory should return to Lonesome Flats and Pop Village to confess their feelings to their respective loved ones and not see each other until they do or someone's ass is getting beat (y'know, normal sibling pact stuff).

So

In true spaghetti western style, Dickory returns to Lonesome Flats. He stares Delta down from one side of town to the other, locals watching with baited breath. He yells to Delta for the whole town to hear, that he was an idiot for running away and that he wasn't sure how they were going to figure things out in the future. But he's here now, he's not running away anymore and he loves her too.

Delta, without saying a word, storms up to Dickory, picks up up from under the arms and gives him a great, big, long overdue smooch to the cheers of the townsfolk and the cries of 'FINALLY' from her parents and niece (meanwhile, Growley Pete starts collecting bets).

Anyhow, Dickory moves to Lonesome Flats, eventually marries Delta, adopts Clampers as his niece, is fully content with being demiromtic/asexual, yada yada, happy ending, mwah! (I am a master of storytelling)

#trolls #trolls world tour #dickory #delta dawn #deltadi #trolls headcanons #gumdrop au #dreamworks trolls #dickory x delta #delta dawn x dickory

[sasorikigai]

Redamancy + Fanaa + Metanoia ( any Hanryou verse p l z )

Lovely words to keep close to you: || @sonxflight || accepting 

Redamancy- the act of loving in return

Fanaa- the destruction of self, destroyed in love

Metanoia- the journey of changing one’s mind, heart, self, or way of life

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 || He’d hoped one day, he would want something so deeply that brushing his fingers against it would seem a miracle. Desiring something enough that the effort he pours into it would feel weighty, like the steps up to paradise, and all the more valuable for it. Maybe something so grand tat it takes all his fears of losing his things - shallow things- and trades it for a carefree confidence that what he’s looking for is better. For too long, Hanzo Hasashi had thought his pain and his heartbreak are unprecedented in the history of the world, but then the things that tormented him in agonizing trials and tribulations the most were the very things that connected him with all the people who were alive, who had ever been alive beneath his vivified wings of encompassing might. 

How Hanzo had regretted his own experiences, to only arrest his own development. To deny his experience was to put a lie into the lips of his own life. A complete denial of the soul’s contentment and happiness, as his unkind mind further harbored heaviness full of remorse and regret, resting in his palms. But, it’s just a grain, the weight on his shoulders hosting his poison as his life won’t allow a simple escape, as conflagrations of hellfire - lest it never affects his being - will perpetuate his insides to draw ear-piercing shrieks and familiar bloody wails of apocalyptic noise as treasured life of what used to be before suffocated him, because of his echoic remorse and guilt. Silver lining had been ever-elusive as he wandered lost and helpless. As he asked himself if the reflection that stands before him, no, within him will once again fight back, or kneel, these krossroads have tired him; the battles, evermore senseless, the wars, endless, yet the Shirai Ryu Grandmaster would march on and on. 

And Samurai Jack had never froze; lest his mind gone astray, but never terrified, angered, forgetful, as proud, yet humble ageless warrior that had also lost so much, as the land of the Sakai would scream, as Ryou would shout, yell, and fight back, but all he could do is take more, resist and rebuttal against the thickening depths of Aku’s evil and fight against the echoes within the world, within his heart. Even amidst the resonating sounds of the suffered and slaughtered, it had taught him what cannot be taught. All he could do is to endlessly march forward, because that’s what the echoes mean. For living in a nutshell is opening up deaf ears and blind eyes for the reality, and becoming speechless for the honesty. Being a part of one’s own prison cell won’t make anyone go out and see, one wouldn’t be able to hear nor one would never understand. One should never be scared of the beauty, scared of the pain, even with shaky knees and weak arms, too small, too large, too thin, too thick, all those windows of the souls who can’t see their marionettes of own feelings and marionettes of own reality. 

All they would have is the present, which is the appropriate soil for the seeds they’re planting. And the grass will be greener where it will be watered. They will have to grow where it matters. They grew through them and though they both came out covered with deep wounds, they came out with stronger and simple souls. No matter how chalky dark sheath of the universe remained, also thick and impervious, Hanzo will learn to see that beyond the horizon, true beauty would lie in the proper endings, and that the peak of his life hadn’t come, and that its grandeur a rhapsody so overwhelming, so breathtaking will elicit such bright fire so consuming that he will lose all senses. So deep that to shake away from its grip would shatter his soul into arid rubble. He shouldn’t fear that a lifetime would relapse into mere moments, for Hanzo’s own life had bore like a most exquisite chimerical dream, lived with vivid sincerity than being helplessly forgotten. And Ryou had lived through the seemingly eons of moments, his heart still beating in hopelessness, as his unafraid courage had fueled the survivalist’s heart and trudged on, even when the future may have been an unknown. 

Living would always hurt; like an open wound. And the world would always have their duality present; with the softness of their embrace, while the vicious whiplashes of the Death’s unending testament to test beyond their human resilience and will, threatening to immobilize them quickly. Both had experienced failures, which taught them things success never could, and while their respective past haunts them the same, the past isn’t with them anymore 

Not only as the Shirai Ryu Grandmaster, but as a husband and a father and a General before that, he always has asked himself if he was ever good enough. He’s spent so many years asking the same questions repeatedly, so many unsaid thoughts running in his mind. So many sleepless nights collecting all the reasons why they chose to hurt him when his intention was to love his family and clan and accept them as his own. He still doesn’t know how his world turned from lightness to darkness, and he doesn’t know how he despises his past, just to let someone like Quan Chi stir his mind askew enough for him to have a second thought about life and completely alter him as if the blueprint of him had been resculpted anew. So many people have been running through his life, and he feels the need to sprint - into the future, away from the harrowing past, out from wherever he is. In truth, all he has to do is to sit down and reflect deeply to discover that after all, the whole cosmos had been right here within him. 

Hanzo would let himself allow to forgive himself in parts; for the past had been too heavy to deal with all in one day, or one moment, or one phase. He is allowed to forgive himself in parts until he feels whole again, and it had taken the two, the samurai’s entwining, encircling, quiet presence that had painted the impulse of destruction, ash, and bones to become a fuel amidst Hanzo Hasashi’s heart, which still remained a story of memory and forgiveness towards his being. For he would have recreated his own cause to fathom the stars, taking everything; all his soul, all his magnanimous love, all of him, consuming, to find unending hopes and dreams to be realized, to be entirely seen and noticed, not to be just admired and respected. Even beneath the inexplicable longing and love that still dwell in his reddened, demolished heart, the familiarity of his love that once colored him with trillions of hot-colored sunrises had taken a long while to return. 

Even an charred, blackened carapace of his being had memories, for his intrepid and indomitable spirits would lay their hands and leave fingerprints that ripple through time like a stone dropped in water, even when Scorpion’s downward spiral would leave fingerprints that ripple through distorted time like an imprint in the walls like atomic shadows everywhere he goes, the living presence of Hanzo Hasashi would overwrite behind his spectre counterpart, the the mirror of consciousness, the very sound of his soul’s song would ring in his heart. But Hanzo would ever discover the tranquil silence as the cave of self-realization would call even in times of desperation and despair. Even when Hanzo feels fatigued, overcome with either bone-deep guilt or agony or any terrifying negativity that always feels the same regardless of his mood, he could always count on Ryou to find the daybreak of silence even amidst the thickest impervious darkness. Beneath the rain falling through the leaves, or the dew creeping over the grass and making it silver, would serve as the healing power, and their combined power of communicating joy. 

The commotion of Hanzo Hasashi’s past may still stir him whole, but no longer, the mandibles turn into excruciating pain, as they become frothed hand pulling him under with devotion. As he drenches his veins in his beloved’s breathes, their stories of loss, overcoming death and self- flagellation become the serenading sunshine that would hide behind turbulent skies that once diverged into two roads will combine an exquisite and grandeur tale of their own. Now, such inexplicable longing and love of caressing one another in intimacy and the familiarity of sinking their fingers into the ridges and valleys of their musculatures as they would dream of their eyes on the horizon of lit distant stars, as their beauty will become both the most delicate and perdurable eternity. 

For their merged story tells a legend of love and beauty far beyond the known universe. Hardened warriors being able to offer gently soft, magnanimous kindness throughout the universe on the heels of sunrises, even when sunsets constituting the darkness galore across the scopes of their reality. The edge of their distance will always go beyond themselves, for the existence of life shall surely live as the silver lining and gold joinery of magnificent, luxuriant braids of breath, delightfully swarming, faithful and obedient, whether as to reconcile and mold their hearts in each other’s reverberating hands, as their love for one another will become a tapestry in the utmost precedence, even in silent poetry as their awakened allegiance and love will become the triumphant, the greatest conviction that will fill the darkness with silvery golden fields of justice and goodness.  ▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 ||

#✗ obsessive cathartic (headcanon) #✗ the ineffable testimony of spawned hellfire (scorpion) #✗ seeking reconciliation with his own humanity (iii) #(relationships; samurai jack) #(take this huge wall of nonsense) #(my word vomit that wanted to speak how GREAT their love and joint might is) #sonxflight

[an-ambivalent]

Yandere! BNHA (main trio) Alice In Wonderland AU

The tales held a certain rhyme that told Alice to be wary--

 It was: 

You are in the role of Alice,

In a fictional universe where everyone’s madness is in denial.

Proceed with caution, for discretion is the key to survival.

Their crazy love will corrupt your sanity,

Keep to yourself, and trust no one if you wish to save your humanity.

--but Alice never heed the warnings, and now she must pay the price. 

(It’s your local ambi again here to deliver you trash no one asked for :^) fund my go2fund ty. Also, it's been a long as time since I’ve watched the film, tbh I barely recall anything from it. This is based on from what I remember so it's probably inaccurate to the actual story but LOL enjoy! Idk what this is ;’^)

Shoto - King of Hearts

If you entered the land Shoto ruled over once, you were never going to leave again. Whatever Shoto wanted in his Kingdom, Shoto would get it. Whether or not you held any feelings for Shoto, would not matter. Once he set his eyes and heart on you, he would have you locked up in a place where only he would see you. If someone else ever mentioned your name to him even simply out of curiosity,  would try see you, or take you from him, Shoto would be merciless about having them killed.

Similar to the personality of the original Queen of Hearts, Shoto could be impatient, and become blinded by his fury very quickly. With his people, this impatience caused him to behead many, sometimes for the smallest of reasons. With you, it would lead to utterly cruel punishments. If Shoto wanted you to do something for him: an act of intimacy, show affection, entertain him and etc, and you refused to it, he would be forgiving for the first few times. Afterwards, he would begin to lose his patience quicker and quicker each time. His punishments would become harsher, and he would continue to mistreatment you until you broke, and began to behave in whatever way he wanted you to do so.

In the instance you obeyed him from the start, he would eventually start to become bratty and demand more from you. His demands would worsen until they were unrealistic. In the moment when you would be unable to fulfill them, he would start to punish you. He would make each punishment crueler than the previous one until he broke you.

Either way, with Shoto’s temper being like thin ice that could break at the slightest of pressure for any reason, it would never be a happy ending for you.

Midoriya - Mad Hatter

In the realm of madness, Midoriya was notorious for his. He even had nicknames like ‘Mad Midoriya’ or ‘Insane Izuku’ that highlighted his peculiar and anomalous personality. Things that were odd, new, and similar to adjectives used to his describe his personality, excited him. You were everything that thrilled Midoriya, and with the way you were, you were just as mad as him if not more.

Whenever you attended his hosted tea parties which were just for the two of you, Midoriya always watched you with awe glistening in his irises. Often you spoke about the ‘other world’ you were from where fantasy was all just a myth and magic did not exist; you had explained to him that you were from a world of science where something like ‘cars’ existed. Your tales were so creative that even he, the mad hatter could not come up with something so bizzare. You were an absolute lovely wonder to listen to,  and you had madness that perfectly matched Midoriya’s. You were perfect, perfectly perfect for him.

“I better get going now. I still need to make my way through the kingdom of hearts and find the bunny,” You said, and this caused the awe in Midoriya’s eyes to morph into panic. As you were about to stand, Midoriya instantly rushed up to you and roughly pushed you back in your chair. You winced, and were about to snap at him, but never received the chance to because he had instantly shoved a piece of cake in your mouth.

Due to the suddenness of the cake being shoved in your mouth, you gagged. Additionally, for a cake its taste was disgustingly thick, liquidy and metallic.

“You won’t need to go to the Kingdom of Hearts or find the bunny. I killed them to make sure you will never need to leave me for them. Also because I wanted to try a new recipe for the cake where the velvety filling was actual blood instead of combination of mixed berries. And since you visited me, I wanted you to be the first one to try it! How is it?” Midoriya asked excitedly, as he leaned extremely close to your face, and his eyes and lips widen in zeal.

His words would have terrified you, had it not been for the black spots that began to cloud your vision. Your consciousness began to fade, and anything else that Midoriya said was heard as distant muffling.

“Oh, I forgot you wouldn’t be able to answer me by now since you’ll be falling asleep. No worries, you can answer me later since you only belong to me now.”

Bakugo - Bunny

“You shouldn’t have followed me [Name]. You still have some time left, get away from me. Stay away from everyone and return to your own world while you still can,” Bakugo warned, and stepped back from you. At his words, you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, but remained where you were. You  allowed the blond-haired human, who had some features of a rabbit, to build distance between you two since he seemed to feel frightened by you.

His body language screamed scared, but it was anger which was written on his face. His bunny ears were flipped backwards, and would have blended with his hair if it was not so spiky. His tail and nose were twitching in anticipation. As adorable as he was for a weird human and rabbit hybrid, this entire situation confused you.

“You’re the one who practically begged me to follow you though. You led me here, somewhere I’m completely lost and have no idea where to go or what to do. You can’t just bring me to an unknown place, and then tell me to go on my own. You need to take responsibility for that,” You said, and your words seemed to have triggered something in him because right away, Bakugo froze. Then slowly, moments later, like the way a creepy doll turns its head in a horror movie before it begins to chase its victim, Bakugo turned towards you, and his eyes were impossibly wide.

Then, he breathed out deeply, before he took out a small bottle from the pocket of his pants. The bottle was labelled ‘drink me.’ Afterwards, he walked towards you, and you were surprised at the authoritativeness that was now laced in his voiced, and how he wore a stern expression on  his face rather than his previous wary one.

“Drink it or I’ll force you too,” He demanded, and there was a menace vibe concealed in his aura that made you take the drink from him immediately. It was obvious that his words held an absolute threat, and he was not joking. Besides, you had drunk the ‘drink me’ potion on your way into this madness, and the worse that would happen to you was you would either grow really big, or really small. It would not poison you, so not thinking much of it, you opened the lid, and gulped down the drink.

Once you finished consuming its entire content, you began to shrink instantly. You became the size of a chocolate bar, and afterwards, Bakugo picked you up single-handedly.

He smirked at how tiny you had become, before he tossed you in a small glass vase, and locked it. You gasped. You started to knock against the vase, and shout at Bakugo to let you out. However, the only response you received was darkness as he put you in his bag. Due to your own screams, and being locked in the glass vase, you did not hear the dangerous words he murmured to himself.

“Now, I can keep you hidden from everyone else, and only for myself. If someone finds out, and tries to take you away from me, I’ll kill them.”

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere drabble #yandere bakugo x reader #yandere midoriya x reader #yandere shoto x reader #yandere todoroki x reader #boku no hero academia imagines #yandere boku no hero academia imagines #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere bnha #yandere bnha imagines #my hero academia imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere shoto #yandere katsuki x reader #yandere izuku x reader #yandere bakugo #yandere midoriya #yandere deku #yandere my hero academia imagines #yandere x you #yandere izuku #alice in wonderland au #ambivalent writes

[imyourliquor-youremypoison]

A Girl’s Best Friend (Peter Parker x OC) - Part 1

Synopsis: Diamonds are man’s best friend- or dogs are girls’ best friends, wait... how does the saying go again?

Warnings: Family issues; Peter has a crush and it’s complicated; mention of assault; good dogs; College AU; aged up! characters; TONY STARK IS ALIVE AND WE ALL LIVE IN A HAPPY PLACE CALLED DENIAL

A/N: In this story, Peter has Tom’s dog, Tessa.

Word count: 1.5k

>>> Part 2

MASTERLIST

                Today was blood donation day, the Red Cross invested one of the faculty’s buildings this morning, turning it into a momentary blood bank. About half the student body decided to do the right thing and donate, and so the line was longer than the meet’n’greet line at the San Diego Comic Con Peter attended last year.

                And he couldn’t even donate his blood! Unless he wanted to have a Spider-Sidekick turn up one day, Tony had strongly advised him to stay clear of needles outside of his lab. No, Peter Parker stood in this endless line to keep company to Ned, who was afraid of needles but wanted to donate still because he had told a girl he liked that he would.

                Peter was half convinced they would still be standing there tomorrow. He should have brought a tent and something to eat. A least something to do. Luckily Ned nervous-babbled to keep his mind busy, or Peter might have fallen asleep while standing – last night’s mission had lasted longer than planned and he hadn’t had as much sleep as a college student would hope for.

“Hey, it’s my turn next,” Ned told him, nudging him in the ribs and waking Peter from his little snooze.

                And sure enough, they stood right next to the doctor’s little desk. Five doctors had set up their desks behind large panels as if those guaranteed any intimacy at all. Peter recognized the girl sitting in the chair at the nearest desk as one of his fellow classmates. He only knew her first name, or rather, her nickname. She didn’t look like she had any close friends, but most people called her Em. So, Emily, or Emma, he guessed.

                He briefly wondered why this girl always kept to herself. She was always well put together, he had never heard her say something off, she didn’t smell weird, and he had no reason to think she wasn’t intelligent. Then again, she must have her reasons, and whatever they were, they were none of his business.

                Okay, so, maybe he did notice her because he thought she was pretty, but that was it, and it still didn’t make it his business.

                A part of him knew it wasn’t nice to eavesdrop, but Peter was bored out of his mind and he had no ill intention, it was just plain curiosity. Ned had finally stopped talking his ears off, therefore nothing stopped him from listening.

“Name and date of birth please,” the doctor asked, his voice as toneless as expected after a day of saying the same thing over and over again.

“Emmeline Gerard, April 1st 1996,” she answered just as flatly.

                Not Emily or Emma then, well… Peter didn’t think too hard about it, but the doctor seemed to pause and the young woman momentarily gained his full attention as his eyes switched between her and the application form in his hand.

“Yes, I’m his daughter,” she snapped, clearly having been there and done that before.

The doctor hadn’t even asked anything, but Peter guessed the question was obvious – the man must know her father, whoever he was. A fellow practitioner maybe? He didn’t even know why he cared, but this was the most thrilling interaction he had witnessed today.

The doctor shook his head and resumed his questions.

“Did you eat and drink something before coming? Do you feel ready to donate blood?”

                Peter’s attention dwindled from then on, until she was almost done.

“Any medical history in your family?”

“I wouldn’t know, I’ve never met them,” she quipped, sending the old man a clipped smile that showed nothing but restrained annoyance. “I’m adopted.”

                Upon hearing that, Peter turned cherry red. He shouldn’t have been listening in on that doctor-patient conversation. Yet, he felt oddly drawn to her after hearing that she was an orphan like him. Sure, she had been adopted and her father was apparently someone of importance, but still, it tugged at Peter’s heartstrings.

                 Her one on one with the doctor quickly came to an end, but he didn’t let her go without a final word.

“Please tell your father I wish him the best of luck for the election to come!” he called just as the young woman grabbed her bag and stood up to leave.

                She froze, put her bag on her shoulder, clutching at the strap so hard Peter thought she must have been picturing the doctor’s neck in its stead, and she smiled. The smile was wrong, it had something off.

“I will. Good day, doctor.”

                Peter knew, by the sound of her voice and the way her smile immediately dropped when she turned around, that she would never, not even in a million years, tell her father. She walked around the panel and nearly bumped right into him.

“Oh, sorry, I-“ Peter started, feeling as though he had been caught red handed doing something bad. This was the first time he even opened his mouth in her presence.

“Oh great! You heard everything, now didn’t you?!” she snapped, clearly mad though he wasn’t convinced it was entirely his fault. That conversation must have rubbed her the wrong way. “God fucking dammit,” she cursed. “Well, go on, it’s your turn!”

                She stood slightly aside to tell him in so she could walk out but Peter only stood there awkwardly, hands in his pockets.

“I-I’m not donating, I’m just here with-“ He had barely gestured towards Ned, who now watched the two, before she cut him off.

“Even better! Out of my way, then.”

She pushed him aside, elbowing her way out of the little crowd that had formed around the door so she could go to the next stall where she’d finally make that donation, now that all the formalities were over.

“Who was that?” Ned asked Peter, watching the enraged girl stride away, her angry vibes making people step out of her way.

“Emmeline Gerard,” Peter answered offhandedly, eyes not leaving her form until she was out of sight. Ned simply frowned because her name meant nothing to him, but he didn’t get the time to ask any further questions.

“Next!” the doctor called, and Ned stepped in, leaving Peter to stand in the hallway with the hundred other people waiting there.

                He made a mental note to look her up tonight.

  *

  “Can you believe this? I can’t even talk to a doctor without hearing about my father!” she ranted, making angry hand gestures while Bella watched on, titling her head to the left. “You’d think a doctor would be a little more professional than that! Bringing politics into a medical consultation, ugh!” she groaned, finally seeming to calm down a little.

                She had been chewing on her tongue all day, biting off harsh remarks whenever somebody dared look her way. That poor boy she lashed out on this morning! He looked vaguely familiar; she must have a class with him – she would have to apologize if she saw him then.

“I just-“ she started, glancing at Bella who walked beside her. “I’m so sick of only being somebody’s daughter.”

                Bella’s ears perked up and she looked up at Emmeline, her big brown eyes full of questions.

“Of course, you don’t understand my problems, do you?” She knelt down and scratched Bella’s ears, watching her tail wag now that she had her owner’s full attention. “Your only concern in life is when you’ll next have to go to the vet.”

                The sun was setting now, the last orange rays filtering between New York City’s buildings. Her walks in Central Park with Bella were supposed to be a moment of relaxation – not a moment to scare the kids hanging there with her grumbling. Most must think her crazy for ranting at her dog.

                But Bella didn’t mind – at least Emmeline thought so – and she couldn’t give less of a crap what people thought of her. Her father would; in fact, her father gave many craps what people thought of him and, by extension, his family. Emmeline had never liked the word family, it just never made sense to her. She was born and immediately abandoned and then she was placed into the arms of another set of parents whose love never left right.

“Thank you for listening, Bel,” she told the happy dog who waited for her to unhook the leash so she could run around for a bit.

                Pitbulls were considered dangerous dogs and Bella had to wear a muzzle every time they went out – it broke Emmeline’s heart but it was the law. She couldn’t play fetch with her like this, but at least she could play with other dogs in the park. A lot of them already knew each other, and Emmeline waved at an old lady who walked her labradoodle, Sir Henry.

                She watched them run in circles for a while.

“I can’t speak about this with anyone else,” she muttered to herself, eyes never leaving her dog. “Who would pity the beloved mayor of New York’s daughter? I’m supposed to be the luckiest girl in the city.”

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Comment if you wanna be tagged!

#peter parker #tom holland #peter parker imagi #spider-man: homecoming #spiderman #spider-man #peter parker oneshot #fanfiction #fanfic #writing is hard #peter parker x oc #college au #aged up!peter parker #aged up! characters #good boys #dogs #pitbulls #reviews are important #feedback is important #tom holland imagine #marvel #spider-man: far from home #ffh #no spoiler #canon divergent #tony stark is alive #tessa

[thestupidhelmet]

Hi, I love your insight on Hyde and Jackie and I was wondering if you could analyze their whole date on JBH cause I don’t buy that they didn’t feel anything in that kiss (mostly Hyde, the way he rubbed his lips and he was really hesitating) and I want to understand what happened

Hi, and thank you!

I’ve written about “Jackie Bags Hyde” (3x08) a lot – in metas, in Those ‘70s Comics, and in fanfic. But it’s a key Jackie and Hyde episode, which reveals to us and to Hyde that he’s developed romantic feelings for Jackie and effectively ends their relationship development until “Going to California” (5x01).

The writers were clearly going for irony. After months of pursuing an uncooperative Hyde for his attention, friendship, and eventually romantic interest, Hyde’s the one who ends up with genuine feelings for her while her “fantasy feelings” fall away in the face of finally getting what she wants. I don’t think season 3′s showrunners or the episode’s writer, Dave Schiff, believed this thread would ever be picked up again, despite Hyde’s reaction to the kiss.

In-universe, Hyde obviously realizes he has romantic feelings for Jackie in “Jackie Bags Hyde”. His jealousy is evident when Jackie brings Chip to the Formans’ barbecue, as is his protectiveness toward her. He’s confused by his reaction to Chip calling Jackie a bitch, and one of my favorite parts of that scene is that Hyde glances at Jackie right before he slugs Chip. She’s talking to someone and smiling. In a split-second, all of Hyde’s positive perspective about her must have surfaced, standing in stark contrast to how disrespectful Chip spoke about her moments ago.

Chip seems to view Jackie as less than human, as just a “bitch” who exists only for his sexual pleasure. Although Jackie’s tendency to talk a lot does annoy Hyde – and  he shares a laugh over that tendency with Chip – he’s experienced a lot more of her personality than that since “Prom Night” (1x19). Hyde shares laughs about pretty much all the series’ main characters’ foibles (except Donna’s) with his friends and the Formans. And relieving some tension about his recent experiences with Jackie makes character sense. But Chip’s dehumanizing attitude about her trips a wire inside Hyde’s brain.

At the very least, Hyde is loyal to Jackie. He gets into a brawl with the guy who knocks Eric unconscious in “Grandma’s Dead” (1x23) to defends Eric’s honor. But once Jackie claims, “I am the bitch, and you love me!” he  doesn’t deny that. What he tells her with his, “Stop staring at me. Quit it! I’m not this guy. Oh, God,” is to stop idolizing him and viewing him as her knight in shining armor, that he’s no hero.

Right after this incident, however, he’s angry and confused and goes inside the Formans’ house to get away from what just happened. But Kitty, who witnessed it, calls Jackie his girlfriend. Hyde denies it, listing reasons why he doesn’t like her. His denial is crumbling but barely. He’s trying to convince himself why he doesn’t have romantic feelings for her. Kitty isn’t convinced, though, and then we get the line that epitomizes his confusion:

“No! How could I like her? Because I don’t like her! Because I can’t like her!”

The word can’t is the key. It’s like in Star Wars when Darth Vader says to Luke about being his father, “Search your feelings. You know it to be true,” and Luke screams, “No! Nooooooo!”

When Kitty confirms – again – that she believes Hyde has romantic feelings for Jackie, he trusts her opinion enough to test the theory. He doesn’t know how he feels because his mind and heart are in conflict. But punching Chip, going to jail for Jackie, teaching Jackie his main defense mechanism (i.e. his version of being Zen) – which essentially makes him vulnerable to her – all adds up to an equation he doesn’t know how to solve without going on a “freakin’ date” with Jackie.

As for the date, what we see of it begins with Jackie showing Hyde she doesn’t have to talk non-stop.

Jackie: This is the best date ever. Hyde: Jackie, we haven’t talked in thirty minutes.

This moment is very significant. The laugh Hyde had shared with Chip was over Jackie being a chatterbox. But Jackie’s just proven that not only can she not be a chatterbox, but she can also enjoy simply spending quiet time with someone (in nature, to boot). It’s no coincidence that this is our first glimpse into their first romantic outing, considering Chip’s disrespect with Jackie began with his complaints about her talking.

Afterward, Jackie demonstrates her awareness about his childhood wounding and offers him compassion for it. It’s too much for him to take. She hits too close to the mark, and he just doesn’t want to go there with her – or with anyone. So he makes fun of her insight as a way to invalidate it and as a way of deflecting the truth, the latter of which is one of his main self-defense mechanisms.

Jackie feels insulted, frustrated, and, perhaps, embarrassed by his reaction. She made herself vulnerable by reaching out to him, and he shut her out through light ridicule. This finally gets through her fantasies of who he is, unlike all his directly expressed rejections and nos and attempts to put up his boundaries. She hops off her dad’s Lincoln and says, fed up, “Let’s go home!”

The date is over, as far as she’s concerned. She also likely believes her romantic pursuit of him is over. But to quote him from season 5, he’s “liking her more and more” as their date progresses. Even though he doesn’t yet have the emotional wherewithal to confront and grieve the childhood wounding she identified, he’s enjoying her company. He’s enjoying learning more of who Jackie is outside of his long-held assumptions.

Hyde: Oh, come on. I’m kidding! No, this is, this is all right. We can hang out here for a while, okay? God…

He doesn’t want the date to end yet. He’s frustrated, as well, that she’s so hurt by his deflection. He’s only seventeen, and he’s also not the most emotionally aware person – as this episode has demonstrated thus far. But he has potential for his emotional awareness to grow, as this episode also demonstrates. Ideally, if their romantic relationship had begun with this date, he would’ve apologized (sooner rather than later) for that raspberry and (probably later) admitted she was spot-on in her analysis of him.

Jackie receives the message that Hyde wants the date to continue, that he wants to spend time with her, and she rejoins him on the trunk of her dad’s car. He offers her “some of his pop,” which is more like the “sweetest, coolest” Hyde she’s experienced (side note: him offering Jackie his soda stands in stark contrast to him being totally socially inept during his time with Melissa in “Hyde Gets the Girl” [4x04]).

She moves closer to him and puts his arm around her shoulders. He doesn’t fight it. He accepts it reluctantly, which is a huge change and huge signal to her. In “Reefer Madness” (3x01), she forces her touch on him in ways he doesn’t want and fights off (e.g., holding her hand with laced fingers, hugging him from behind, etc.) Despite that his discomfort is visible on his face, he doesn’t withdraw from her. He tries out how physical (not sexual) intimacy feels with her.

Time passes. We aren’t told how much. But Jackie and Hyde are now sitting on the hood of the Lincoln. The car’s front doors are open, and the radio’s on, tuned to a station playing romantic music. Hyde’s denim jacket covers Jackie’s shoulders, and we have no idea what happened between them moving from the car’s trunk to its hood.

We can, however, infer what might’ve happened. Hyde asks if she wants to put some music on. She says, “Sure,” and tells him what station to put on. He’s not too happy about her choice, but he tunes it to her preference anyway. She asks him to dance. He’s already sat with his arm around her shoulders, so he figures, “What the hell?” They share a dance, which leads them to the hood of the car.

They hop up onto the hood, and she’s shivering. Without a word, he puts his denim jacket around her shoulders, and they share some more silent stargazing time.

Then we get to the next on-screen part of their date.

Jackie announces (for the audience) that her and Hyde’s first date is almost over, and she asks what Hyde thinks of it. He says, “It was no worse than bowling.” She’s confused by his answer, so he clarifies: “I don’t hate bowling.”

The word hate is the key. In the earlier scene with Kitty, Hyde says Jackie is everything he hates. Kitty says, “But, Steven, you hate everything.” This episode is full of plants (i.e.foreshadowing) and payoffs. Hyde, who supposedly “hates everything” says he doesn’t hate bowling and says the date with Jackie is no worse than an activity he doesn’t hate. This is his roundabout, deflecting way of saying he’s enjoying himself.

On his date.

With Jackie.

Hyde is a character who is mostly subtext (which is a big reason I love writing him in fanfic). Earlier in the episode, Jackie proves she can read between his lines – specifically when she correctly assesses the not-so-aloof tone that accompanies his aloof words about dating Chip as indicating jealousy.

Hyde’s in trouble, all right. For someone who uses aloofness and deflection as a defense mechanism, he shouldn’t have taught Jackie this fact about himself directly and indirectly.

Jackie and Hyde go in for a kiss at the same time, and it’s much more than a peck. But Jackie withdraws, surprised that she didn’t feel anything emotionally. Physically, the kiss is “hot,” but she isn’t emotionally engaged. If Jackie and Hyde’s sexual / romantic relationship hadn’t begun in earnest the summer between season 4 and season 5 (and on-screen in “Going to California” [5x01]), we’d have to accept her reaction at face value. As I stated above, the episode’s conclusion was written for irony. But within the whole context of the series and their relationship, one can reasonably interpret subtext into her response.

Personally, I believe Jackie is scared of how kissing Hyde makes her feel. Throughout the date, she becomes clear-eyed about Hyde not being a fantasy hero who will weep at her insight but a real person. Someone who might disappoint her. Who will need patience and persistence to break through his emotional barriers. Basically, she isn’t ready for a complex relationship that could potentially break through her own emotional barriers and allow her to connect to someone that intimately (not to mention the amount of work such relationship requires from both partners).

Hyde’s reaction to the kiss and to Jackie’s reaction to the kiss is easy to interpret.

Jackie: Huh. Okay, I didn’t feel anything. Hyde: Nothing?

He’s surprised and confused that she has no romantic feelings for him – especially since she claimed the opposite for so long, said she loved him, and claimed she and Hyde were “in love” to her their friends.

Jackie: No, I mean the kiss was hot, but … well, did you feel something?Hyde: Uh … no.Well? … No.

His, “Uh…” indicates he’s thinking about whether or not to answer truthfully. The expression on his face also shows how confused he is by her response and how conflicted he is about telling her the truth. He’s Mr. Deflect-the-Truth, after all. And if Jackie feels nothing romantic/emotional for him, there’s no way in hell he’s going to admit that he does.

But he almost does. His, “Well?” is a moment of doubt about not revealing his feelings. He ultimately decides, however, the safer choice is to lie, so he says, “No,” again, this time more definitively.

As Jackie glances down, sad about the fact her potential new romance is dead in the water, Hyde touches his lips and is in a world of hurt and disappointment he hadn’t expected. He’s clearly unhappy with the outcome of the date. He’s realized he has romantic feelings for Jackie, only for her not to reciprocate them. It reminds me of the following lyric in Mother Love Bone’s Song “Crown of Thorns”.

I want to tell you that I love you / But does it really matter?

He can’t force Jackie to feel differently, just as she couldn’t force him to fall in love with her. He started doing that on his own. This is also not the Hyde of season 1 (before “Prom Night”) who forced himself on Donna despite her repeated nos and rejection of his romantic advances.

Jackie:  So I guess that’s it, then. Turns out you were right about us all along.

This line makes the subtext of irony text. Hyde’s now left with romantic feelings that the consequences of Jackie’s pursuit of him inspired (by consequences, I mean her pursuit forced / allowed him to experience more of who Jackie truly is than simply Kelso’s obnoxious, snobby, and controlling girlfriend). 

Hyde: Yep.Jackie: So what happens now? Hyde: I’m not opposed to doing it.

Hyde’s already decided to hide the truth of his feelings from her, but he reveals them to us through his joke: “I’m not opposed to doing it.” Hyde – who supposedly hated Jackie, who couldn’t stand her, who didn’t want her to kiss him in “Kelso’s Serenade” (2x21) because he doesn’t like her and finds her abrasive – said he wouldn’t be opposed to having sex with her.

Because a girl being “hot” isn’t enough for him. Just like their kiss being hot isn’t enough for her. He needs to attracted to a girl’s personality to want to engage with her sexually. And he’s now told us he likes Jackie’s personality enough to have a physical relationship with her.

Yes, it’s all very twisty-turny, but that’s Hyde’s psychology.

Jackie doesn’t take his statement seriously, though. Smiling, amused and a little disturbed, she calls him a pig and tells him to take her home. He smiles back and says, “Yes, dear,” and guides her into the car.

This final interaction between them in the episode is very similar in tone to their season 4 relationship. He doesn’t so much burn her as tease her, and they seem much more comfortable with each other, in general. For more on that, please read this meta I wrote about their season 4 relationship.

I wrote a fanfic exploring what might’ve happened if Hyde had made a different choice during this episode.

One Difference: Hyde Doesn’t Lie [FFnet / AO3]

Summary: Hyde tells Jackie the truth about their Veteran’s Day kiss, but his choice alters their relationship — and the lives around them.

Rated: T

#That 70s Show #That '70s Show #Jackie x Hyde #Jackie Burkhart #Steven Hyde #My Meta #My Essay #Meta #Essay #Ask #Anon #Jackie Bags Hyde #3x08

[dear-wormwoods]

i know that eddie's first encounter with It and the way It manifests itself as his fear is very telling of him being gay, but what do you think the encounters It had with the other members of the loser's club (like mike with the bird, stan with the dead boys, etc) are indicative of?

Okay Let’s Talk About the Losers’ Fears!

The interesting thing about IT is that, for most kids, the fears IT manifests as are pretty basic. Movie monsters, comic book monsters, vampires, mummies, etc. So not all the Losers have super deep meanings behind their fears, the way Eddie and Beverly do, and I think it definitely reflects the level of contentment they experience in their every day life. Obviously Eddie’s IT experiences are symbolic of his fear of his sexuality and the self-loathing that comes along with that, disguised as a ‘diseases are gross!’ sort of thing because that’s easier to process for a little kid (and because IT needs something physical to take the shape of). We don’t need to rehash that. But as for the others…

Beverly is not afraid of blood, her fear is much deeper than that, blood is just the easiest physical representation for what she really does fear, which is her own womanhood. In one of MANY parallels between Eddie and Bev, both of their fears are based on gender and sexuality, and both fears exist, at least in part, because of their abusive home lives. Bev’s fear takes on the disguise of ‘blood is gross!’ but really it’s about puberty and menstruation, and what that change will mean for her sexually - because her dad never stops talking about how boys look at her, and what her role will be as a woman re: having sex with boys. And this isn’t the first time King has used blood symbolism for a girl’s fear of the sexual unknown - he did it in Carrie too (and lbr if Eddie and Beverly were fused together into one character, it would be Carrie and if Sonia and Alvin were fused into one character, it would be Carrie’s crazy fucking mother).

Next we have Bill, whose fear is pretty self-explanatory. IT always manifests as something Georgie-related for him, but what Bill fears most is not literally Georgie’s corpse, it’s Georgie BLAMING him for his death. Bill feels incredible guilt for what happened to Georgie, and feels responsible because he helped make the paper boat and because he was too sick to go out with Georgie that day and therefore could not protect him (this comes up again and again re: his insistence that Eddie not leave his line of sight like, ever, because he’s projecting his Georgie guilt). Bill actually comes the closest to ‘losing’ to IT because his fear is the most emotional - he almost gives in to the apparition of Georgie basically accusing him of murder, and would have, were it not for the other Losers (particularly Eddie) screeching that it isn’t really Georgie.

Richie’s fears are all based around movie monsters, but they’re a little more symbolic than that because of one small addition: Richie’s name being used repeatedly as a label FOR IT’s manifestations. IT also seems to talk to Richie more, because taunting him is more effective than just existing as a visual. On top of that, IT takes multiple forms for Richie, which is unusual. So we have three (unless I’m forgetting one) - the Crawling Eye, the Werewolf, and Paul Bunyan. The Crawling Eye is a movie monster that really freaked Richie out as a kid to the point where he’d have nightmares about it and wet the bed, and he has a lot of eye-related body horror dreams and it’s pretty gross… dreaming about eyes can symbolize needing to (or refusing to) look inward, and dreaming about something being in/hurting your eyes can symbolize being unable to (or refusing to) confront certain truths, or avoiding emotional intimacy. All of this can easily be applied to Richie, the King of Avoidance, and it’s particularly interesting that the Eddie is the one who injures the Eye, and encourages Richie to fight it too, and that Eddie is mentioned by IT later on in relation to the Eye (the SHOES THING also ties into the Eye whenever it comes up!). So there’s THAT. The Crawling Eye, imo, stands for Richie’s denial and emotional stagnation. 

The Werewolf is also a movie monster, and Richie was very effected by the plight of the teenage werewolf when he watched that movie - so it’s telling that when IT manifests as the werewolf, it is wearing a jacket with Richie’s name stitched into it. I know this has been said over and over, but Richie relates to the werewolf on some level because the werewolf is seen by its peers as a horrible monster, but it’s something it cannot help, and while it presents as ‘normal’ most of the time, when the ‘monster comes out’, it’s instantly ostracized from society. Richie sees himself as a ‘monster’ because he’s consistently treated as annoying, or ‘too much’, or borderline-suicidal to the point where he scares a lot of people off from wanting to get to know him. He feels guilty about being a burden on his parents, he hates that he constantly gets himself into trouble for things he can’t seem to control (undiagnosed and untreated ADHD, most likely), and on top of all that, he’s also hyper-aware of the dangers of ‘looking queer’ in public if he’s caught being affectionate with his male friends. There is a lot going on in Richie’s head that all point to him being very aware that he’s not ‘like everyone else’, but he can’t help it, so Richie sees himself reflected in the Teenage Werewolf… and IT knows that, and tries to use that to ITs advantage. 

FINALLY, there’s the Paul Bunyan statue, which involves a little more reaching to figure out, so bear with me if this sounds insane… Paul Bunyan, in a way, represents Richie as well. Richie is well aware that the statue is an attention-grabber, but it’s also kitschy and stupid looking - he himself describes it as having a ‘cheerful vulgarity’. It’s big and loud, but people hate it and think it’s lame. Richie wants attention, but he’s afraid of being Paul Bunyan - he wants to be GOOD at something, and get attention because of his skill and his humor, not just because he’s loud and ridiculous. He doesn’t want to be talked about as “horrible, garish, and unbelievably gauche”, the way Derry townsfolk talk about Paul. As an adult, Paul turns into the clown and has a literal, casual conversation with Richie, and then eventually turns into Buddy Holly - a musician Richie admired and related to, who died tragically young - only Buddy’s glasses weren’t his usual glasses - they were Richie’s glasses, mended with adhesive tape. So even then, he’s sort of seeing parts of HIMSELF in what IT appears as. SOOO LONG STORY SHORT, Richie is his own worst fear. 

Stan’s encounter with IT, I think, was meant to push the boundaries of what his  mind would accept as ‘real’. Stan’s whole worldview was based on order and a certain expectation of reality being… reality. So IT created a visual as ridiculous as possible, while still maintaining some level of offensive realism (by using corpses of real kids who drowned in the Standpipe) and creating a multi-sensory onslaught that Stan couldn’t deny - music, smells, visuals, etc. ITs goal wasn’t to scare Stan so much as break him, but Stan was able to ground himself in reality with his bird book well enough to escape. But what he takes away from the experience in the end is being offended by what happened. He doesn’t give a shit about being scared, he’s just plain OFFENDED by what he saw. So I think Stan’s kids-in-the-Standpipe experience was meant to just…. totally insult the way he sees the world around him. It’s also one of the coolest visuals in the novel and I will be forever angry that the movie changed his IT experience so completely. 

Ben’s IT encounters are SUPER typical… movie monsters, Halloween costume type of shit, like most of the other Derry kids who became ITs victims. The clown with the balloons floating against the wind, the mummy, the vampire… but unlike Richie, I don’t think there is much deeper meaning to it than just being your run of the mill scary shit, because unlike Richie, Ben doesn’t hate himself. Ben is pretty damn content with his life. He loves his mom, they have a close relationship, he doesn’t have any friends before the Losers but he wasn’t bent out of shape about it… he was fine with being alone, and just being a good student, a quiet bookish kid, and he liked buying candy and eating it in front of the TV with his little bathrobe on. Like, Ben was chill. He was confident in what he liked and what he knew how to do, he was a real ‘you do you’ kid. He wasn’t even THAT upset about being fat until other kids made fun of him for it. So Ben’s just going through life, more comfortable than the other Losers. He’s content with his gender and sexuality, he’s content with his skill set and his interests, he doesn’t care about how others perceive him, he’s adaptable, and he’s not plagued with guilt. So IT doesn’t really have a TON to work with, lmao. Movie monsters are all IT has at ITs disposal when it comes to Ben, and that’s all there is to it. And in general, Ben is one of the least affected by IT… he really doesn’t even seem that afraid of IT, on the whole, but he reacts most strongly to the things that sort of go against the laws of physics (the balloons moving against the wind, the Neibolt House seeming to change shape and size)… but even then, the only real symbolism there is that Ben loves physics and architecture. 

Lastly, Mike’s experience with IT is… interesting. I’ve talked about this a lot with @mikehanlonstan and we can’t really come up with good symbolism for the bird aside from the simple ‘he was attacked by a bird as a baby’ explanation from the novel. Which would be fine, if it weren’t for the fact that Mike’s dad… saw the same bird?? Like, what is it with the Hanlons and this weird bird? Who knows, I sure don’t. I was looking for racism symbolism but like… I feel like ‘It’s a bird… like a crow, get it?? Like Jim Crow??” is too lazy even for Stephen King. Also it wasn’t a crow, anyway… it was something that doesn’t exist in the real world, otherwise Stan wouldn’t have been able to get it to go away with his bird facts later on. If anything it just establishes a stronger connection between him and his father, and the long-term connection they both have to IT.

#asks #stephen king's it #it novel #eddie kaspbrak #richie tozier #beverly marsh #ben hanscom #bill denbrough #stanley uris #mike hanlon #it meta #my meta #anonymous #meta #losers club

[princeselfinserts-moved]

A-Z for Zawa :3c

JFKAKFKAKKFKAKFKKGH

IS,,, UNDER CUT FOR SMUT,,,,

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Shouta nearly puts more energy into aftercare then the actual intercourse lmao. He’ll make sure I’m comfortable, do I have enough pillows? Do I have any particularly bad aches I’d like him to massage? Would I prefer to clean the cum off my skin but don’t want to have a shower right now because I’d rather cuddle? Shouta will get those pillows, he’ll massage my thighs and stomach while giving me gentle kisses, he’ll get a warm bowl of water and a cloth to clean my legs as he praises how pretty he thinks I am.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Shouta’s favourite part of his body is his arms because they let him feel Crypto’s body and pleasure them. His favourite part of Crypto’s body is their thighs!! Shouta likes how thick they are and it arouses him that its mostly muscle he wants to know if crypto could smash a watermelon between them science demands too know,,,,

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

He’s kinda hyper-aware of Crypto’s cycle so even thought I take the pill Shouta makes sure to wear condoms during the high fertile arch of my cycle. But!!! Shouta finds the act of cumming on my thighs, stomach and chest extremely hot. It’s a more primal pleasure at knowing that he’s the only one who gets to see that sight.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He uh, Shouta would like to try having sex while Crypto has a partial shift going on to make them look like a cat-girl but he’s too embarrassed to ask about the possibility.

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

He’s had a couple partners before so he knows how to properly prepare his partner, and he’s particularly skilled at tying them up kayama probably hooked him up with a bdsm club so he could safely explore his interest in it and here we are years later smh.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Missionary definitely, fall & eagle are a couple more. Face-sitting/Emmanuel is an oral one he’s a BIG fan of but he also really likes the Inquisitor because it lets him watch me try to squirm out from under his arms holding me down.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

It depends on the situation? Shouta is always at least a little bit serious, but if Crypto looks nervous or even a tiny bit scared of trying something out Shouta will smile reassuringly and compliment me until I’ve relaxed or told him what about the situation is making me worried.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Yeah the colours match lmao, Shouta tries to keep it trimmed because it tangles less and that habit of tangling pubic hair has annoys him. He can’t really keep up with how fast it grows so its kind of choppy.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…) 

Shouta likes us being as close as possible to each, my legs curled around the backs of his thighs and our chests pressed together as he murmurs endless praise over how good everything feels, how beautiful I am, how he can’t believe he’s lucky enough to have me and all the while Shouta will be kissing all over my neck and face practically radiating love in every motion.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Shouta doesn’t really masturbate because he thinks its time he could be using to work on cases or grade the students work. But if he’s particularly stressed, tense or has pent up energy Shouta will squeeze one out while in the shower so he doesn’t have to have a second one.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Bondage is a VERY big kink of his, being able to tie Crypto up and restrict practically all movement? It’s endlessly arousing to him that I trust him that much. Sensory Deprivation and Orgasm Denial are another big two, he likes seeing me shiver as I try to guess where he’ll touch me next and the way I end up mindlessly begging him to just let me cum makes Shouta groan.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Ironically very vanilla but the bedroom is his favourite place to have sex and more often then not if we’re somewhere else in the house Shouta will just pick me up and carry me there. Sometimes we will do it on the couch and when he insists on pampering me Shouta will occasionally instigate very slow touchy feely sex in the bath as I sit on hit lap.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Thigh highs, if Crypto wears thigh highs especially the one with little cat ears and faces Shouta will want to see how many times he can cum on my stomach and upper thighs before he dirties my socks. Visible hickeys as well, Shouta loves seeing the proof that I’m willing to let him so close to me while I’m so vulnerable.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Public sex, just the idea of other people excluding if it were a poly relationship makes him uncomfortable. He’s a hero, and a teacher and basically a father to Eri the idea of his students or the media stumbling upon whatever videos that would probably be taken makes Shouta feel sick to his stomach. Even more so because he knows Crypto hates how revealing their costume has to be for them to have an affordable amount of fabric that merges with their quirk so they aren’t replacing every time they shift forms.

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

Shouta prefers giving over receiving, the fact that the simple act of him eating me out gets me so aroused really gets him going. The reason he’s a little iffy about receiving is because he’s concerned he might accidentally choke me even though Shouta knows I have the strength to hold his hips down.

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

hhhhHHHHHHHHH SHOUTA??? AAAAAA!!!!!!! Most of the time he’s slowish wanting us to milk as much pleasure as possible but Shouta is also just as fond of a rough pacing, especially so when we’ve got more private time then normal. Also,,,, he finds it cute how flustered I get when he asks for permission to be rougher even though he knows he doesn’t even need to ask.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Doesn’t actually like penetrative quickies, is its him getting me off with his fingers or me giving him a quick blowjob it’s fine. But Shouta thinks penetrative sex should have a long buildup and only be rushed if the pacing is because of passion rather than a time limit.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Shouta is willing to try out most things at least once but only ever after nearly ten minutes+ of making sure I know what the safe-word is and that he prioritises how comfortable I am over any pleasure he could potentially get.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

It’s not really high but also not really low? One rounds is most common because we don’t have much free time but when we’ve got more time two and maybe three rounds are more common because we have low-key competitions on who can make the other orgasm more lmao. aaaa thats embarrassing to admit \(//∇//)\

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

jdkakfkkskfg Shouta he uh he’s got various ropes, silks, blindfolds, vibrators, gags he’s pretty into BDSM and he looked about ready to throw a party when finding out that that’s super arousing for me lmao. It’s pretty rare but if I can surprise him or if he’s tired but too aroused to sleep Shouta will let me tie him up and do all the work. I love spoiling him but he doesn’t let me do it a lot :/ also kayama got me a strap as a gag gift but its more of a “for when shouta is feeling down and i can convince him to let me pleasure him” gift.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Shouta!!! Shouta teases Crypto so much!!! He knows listening to him talk about all the things he want to do while stroking my sides gets me flustered super quick. Except!!! He’ll do that!!! And then Shouta will sigh dramatically and leave to do some paperwork or cook or I’ll realise he has hero work because Shouta will get dressed in his costume and leave me having to wait until he’s back from work ughhh.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Shouta is kinda at normal speaking level, he doesn’t yell a lot nearly never actually and the more overwhelmed he gets the harder it is for him to voice his thoughts higher than a hiss. Lots of grunts!! Growing, hissing letting out pants and moans and mindless babbling praise.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Shouta is fucking amazing at dirty talk but he also implies a lot that he has a breeding kink he doesn’t want to admit too having or doesn’t realise he has it. And I’m to flustered at the idea to ask him.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Uhh its a little longer then normal and sort of arches up the closer to the head you get. Shouta’s got a normal thickness but the veins on his penis pulse a lot so its just aaaaaa.

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

Hm it’s? Kind of low to medium, it depends a lot on how much stress his work is giving him. Shouta is also on the aspec scale because he doesn’t find most things arousing and without a partner his sex drive drops.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Shouta has a pretty low energy level on a day to day basis and most of it goes to his hero/teacher work but he always stays awake until he’s sure I’m comfortable. After that he’ll drop off really quick though.

#prince found dead in miami #cod nougat being too supportive #aizawa shouta #ship: tired heroes #citrus flavour #ready. set. queue

[hotcocosharing]

SCM Headcanon Request: Gods In Love

Anonymous said: Hello! I absolutely love all of your posts and I think that you are absolutely amazing. Would you mind if I suggested a Star Crossed Myth request? I would really love it if you could write about all 12 gods in love with the MC, but she just doesn’t seem to notice that they care for her. Thank you for reading this and I love your work!!! :) 

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Fandom: Star Crossed Myth Category: Fluff / Angst Character: Leon / Scorpio / Teorus / Dui / Karno Notes: I couldn’t do all 12 but here you go- I have slowed down on updating and writing requests- mainly because life is busy and I’ve written quite a few fics and I don’t want to repeat same plots just with different canons.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Leon As the Minister of the Department of Wishes and the most powerful god in the heavens (after the King), Leon has never ever wanted anyone. There is no need to, with his power to invoke physical pleasure, he could have anyone with a simple touch until he meets the former goddess.

Nothing annoys him more than requiring help  from a mere human, especially a goldfish who is so fucking clueless and oblivious in everything. She is so naïve and warm-hearted to a point where she keeps ending up getting hurt and deceived by friends and strangers.

His heart aches when he hears her ideal lover in a stupid game calls Truth or Dare, someone humble, easy and attentive, basically nothing like himself. That’s when The God of Leo eventually realizes he has developed feelings for her, he’s surprised and in denial for the first few days but as soon as she blushed at others flirtatious joke, he’s pissed. Not because he’s jealous but the fact that she has no clue of others feelings towards her. So Leon keeps her by his side 24/7 as he loves seeing her smile but also in attempt for her to see all his sides, even his rare caring side. He carefully lets down his wall for her, sharing his stories and concerns that he never ever tells anyone else. To him, she’s far more precious than any goddesses in heaven. 

Scorpio

Scorpio still remembers the time she takes care of him while he’s sick in bed, those cute rabbit shaped apples. They don’t taste the same without her feeding them to him, his cheeks turn pick when he thinks about her so he only misses her when he’s alone in his room. Picturing her cute smile, silly giggle and clumsiness. Her wavy brown hair, her flushed face when the other gods compliment her dress and how close she is with all of them.

Scorpio sighs but ever since he has fallen in love with her, it has become harder not to think of her all the time. He could not resist peeking her way whenever she’s in the mansion, he gets jealous when Ichthys’s hand is touching her or when she smiles at Dui’s kind words. She says Scorpio is too mean and swears too much. He tries to show her a kinder side of himself, he even begins to swear less.

But the former human doesn’t know what to do with his emotions. He wants to be with her all the time, so much that it scares the hell out of him. She begins calling him cute and he covers his embarrassment by teasing or being mean to her when what he really wants is for her to by his side. To hold her, to whisper sweet nothing to her ear, to be the person who makes her blush, to feel her body growing warm, to hear her moan his name, to want him as much as he wants her.

Teorus

The flirtatious god who loves being the center of female attention has no need to think twice when he compliments the former goddess. If flattery and intimacy would erase his sin and make him a god again, he would do anything.

He has heavily implied to her that he’s had many lovers but it still takes him by surprise when her tears run down her cheeks even though it is widely known that he never lets women into his bedroom; he has made her an exception that night.

He watches her, crying herself to sleep and he wonders just how much pain he has caused her. Was it the flirting that she takes the wrong way or sleeping with other women bothers her that much? Is it just the kind of jealousy that would fade away or has she given up on him for good? He thought he understands women, but she has him puzzled.

Her 180 degree change of attitude not only surprises Teorus, it nearly kills him. No one avoids him, not even his exs. The God’s confused for some weeks, and gradually beings to cut ties with his “girlfriends”. It hasn’t occurred to him that he has fallen in love with her till he’s becomes insanely possessive, leading to his epic confession to his one and only true love.

Dui

As a god who doesn’t particularly want his sin to be absolved, Dui simply enjoys her company till his dark sides slip out and scare the hell out of her.

The warm hearted and child-like god does what he know best when it comes to protection- avoiding the former goddess at all cost, making sure she has no chance of seeing the Dark Dui again even though it means the same for himself.

However her persistence and kindness not only force herself into both Dui’s lives but also their very souls, showing them the light and hope they have long forgotten. Her unconditional love conquer their differences, loving two sides of Dui as one- mentally and physically.

Karno 

The friendly, calm, and approachable God of Cancer has take a liking of her long before they even met and he intends to keep her in the dark until destiny has its own way to reveal the truth and of course taunt his feelings.

She’s over the moon for the reunion, to have eventually met her long time guardian angel while the vice minister himself attempts to develop further inappropriate feelings for a human. Leon would half tease and half encourage him to confess and take the girl with his own hands.

However, Karno remains afar, watching over her as she falls in love with another god because he understands loves come in all kind of forms and he has no intention to take someone who clearly doesn’t return the same affection. He simply hopes her to find true happiness and grants her every wish within power.

#star crossed myth #scm #scm fanfic #scm fluff #scm angst #scm dui #scm teorus #scm karno #scm leon #scm scorpio #anon ask #request #request done #took some time but here it is