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walpu · 2 months

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pre-relationship stage with them

characters - Gepard, Aventurine notes- gn!reader, pining, light angst but mostly fluffy, a bit of hurt/comfort. I love blonde preservation men okay. no beta we die like the economy in my country

Gepard

Poor poor Geppie.

He pines so much. Treats his love for you like a tender flower. Even his feelings for you is something so precious to him, he's happy to simply be in love with a person like yourself.

I feel like this poor man willd try so much to do everything for you without giving away how deeply he cares and how intense his feelings are.

"Aw, lil' Geppie, you care about y/n so much!"

"I- I do not. I mean, of course I do! But- There's nothing surprising about it. After all, it's my duty as a Captain to care about every citizen. And, of course, it's my duty as a friend to care about y/n.

Sure, Gepard. Sure.

He would never say something like this to your face though. After all, he simply can't lie to you.

Oh but how he adores you. His face literally lights up when he sees you, the most gentle smile blooms on his face when he watches you doing even the most trivial task.

Tries to act like his usual self around you but it's pretty evident to everyone that you're his weak spot.

Would gently scold you if you would ever put yourself in danger or break any rules.

If you would get seriously hurt would actually lose his mind. Would blame himself even if the situation has nothing to do with him. Beats himself up, asks for your forgiveness and does his best to help you.

Despite the popular belief that he would prioritize his work over his beloved, I don't think it's true. Sure, he takes his duties seriously, but he would always find time for you. Would make sure to see you at least two times a weak, would answer your texts and calls. If you need him, would certainly be right by your side. Even if it means he would have to work overtime later.

Tease him a bit and he's all red. Doesn't try to stop you though, secretly adores your attention.

Would be oblivious to the fact that you like him back. Like. Really dense about it.

He's just so used to giving, to protecting, he simply doesn't expect anything in return. He has silently accepted the fact that you may never love him back, but he will be there for you regardless of it, no matter what.

Plus, he feels like he may not be the one for you. Like you need someone who doesn't have to constantly put their life in danger, who can always be by your side, who won't break your heart. Because he's painfully aware that each fight may actually be his last. That he may not come back to you.

Speaking of that. He would make sure to say a proper goodbye to you before every battle or expedition. Nothing too sappy or depressing, he doesn't want to make you worry, after all. Would probably tell you to take care of yourself, to sleep well and to eat healthy food lol. He really just wants to make sure that he got to see you before heading straight into the battle.

If you're a Silvermane guard as well, would restrict himself even more, not wanting to use his position or to be pushy. However, would still be worried sick, even more so. Would still talk to you before every battle, asking almost begging you to be careful.

Loves giving you head pats.

Generally the goodest boy. Just make sure to make the first move because otherwise he would be satisfied with just being your loyal puppy.

Aventurine

Good lord.

This man is such a mess.

Be ready for a mindfuck but not because he's manipulative towards you or something like that but because there's so many layers of trauma in him.

You have to be patient with him okay.

I feel like pre-relationship stage would be so confusing to him. He had flings in the past, okay? Short ones, meaningless. Something to distress, to feel another person's touch, to feel some sort of connection, no matter how shallow it is. He knew he uses those people and that those people use him in return. Not once he asked them to be gentle or caring.

But with you it's so different. Doesn't matter if your relationship started sexually and developed into something more or if it was mostly platonic/slow since the beginning. He still feels something. And he's not sure if he likes it.

Sometimes it feels so good to be seen, to be addressed as a person, not just as a tool. But sometimes it scares him. After all, this man hasn't been vulnerable with anyone for a long, long time.

I'm sorry but I feel like he would try to pull away from you a bit after realizing how much you actually mean to him.

Oh but he will crumble if you reach out to him, okay? He simply can't ditch you like that, not when you see him for him and want him for him.

Even if it's scary.

Would slowly relax around you. Don't expect him to open up easily but still, the more time you spend together, the more his cocky mask will slip away.

Will randomly and out of the blue tell you small details about his past. You two may walk down the street together and he will see something that reminds him of Sigonia so he will share this memory with you.

It may be the smallest thing but it means a lot to him that you listen. Even this tiny moments of vulnerability are hard for him.

On the more positive note, he's so fun to be around. Would tease you and cling to you all of the time. If you tease him back, he would pretend to be offended but would actually enjoy the playful banter a lot.

Just don't tease him too much about him becoming more and more clingy with each passing day.

Spoils you rotten. New clothes, jewelry, watches, shoes, anything you may want or need. He still can't quite get rid of this idea that you have to be convenient for someone to be valuable. It's not like he's trying to buy your love but... Maybe subconsciously he does. Once again, be patient. This man is so used to the fact that all of his alliances are build on mutual benefit that it's still hard to accept that you're really here for him.

Spoiler even when he will feel more stable in your relationship and his mindset will turn more healthy, gift giving will still remain one of his love languages.

Just like Gepard, would care greatly about your safety. He may be careless about his own life but never with yours.

Loves, loves, loves physical contact. As I said before, gets very clingy, putting his arm over your shoulder or tugging on your sleeve. If he's feeling down, would crawl to you side and subtly brush his shoulder against yours or lean to your side. He may still have his confident smile but those small gestures show that he wants you to be the one holding him this time.

Invades your personal space a lot actually. Texts you constantly too lmao.

LOVES SILLY NICKNAMES. Would call you his dearest darling in the sweetest voice during the most inappropriate time and then laugh at your reaction. Would settle for something more casual like "baby" when he's not trying to be a pain in the ass. Still tries to play it off as something teasing. Deep down yearns to call you this without having to pretend that this is just a playful banter between two friends.

Oh and he would dance around the topic of dating, throwing hints but never having the courage to ask openly. So good luck with him.

#hsr #honkai star rail #hsr aventurine #aventurine #aventurine x reader #gepard #gepard landau #hsr gepard #gepard x reader #walp's writing

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luvwestwood · 3 months

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"Give Me Five" - Choso Kamo

4,591 words.

₊˚༊*·˚ warnings. nsfw (18+), ice-hockey player! choso, bestfriend's brother trope, p in v, resolved sexual tensions, foreplay, fingering, titty sucking, choso fucks you in his jersey, orgasm denial, praising, hair pulling, rough play, nsfw links (underlined), spitting kink, mirror play, feral choso

₊˚༊*·˚ notes. I absolutely enjoyed making this special request for @moonriseoverkyoto! thank you all so much for 700 followers ^^ included a link for you lovelies as a gift, hehe I hope to send more work your way soon :) thank you for the love and support this whole month!

rightful art credits to @/kmskc_f, @/yume041624, @/elcheggen, @/uoru1_juju (all on twt)!

(russian translation) - creds to @juliabelll 🩷

Goosebumps formed all over your skin as you were met with the coldness of the rink. Bits of regret filled you for being stubborn this morning, choosing to not wear extra layers. Squinting, you look around to find a close friend of yours, not too far a figure jumping up and down catches your eye.

"Hey! Over here- I'm here!" Yuji called to you in his typical, chirpy voice. Multiple heads turned to the sudden commotion, followed by another look to your direction. Embarrassed, you facepalm; whispering quiet apologies to others as you squeeze past the row of seats, making your way over.

"Yuji!- I got caught in traffic. Did I miss anything?" You fold down the seat next to him, the excited Yuji passing you another one of those generic team jerseys that he also had on. You take a good look at it before putting the garment over your head, the team colours being black and yellow.

Beside you, the boy rummages through a large plastic bag of popcorn. "Mmph- No- My brother would be happy if he knew- You were here." His eyes were wide open and alert, observing the game like a hawk.

"..Ah, it's nothing. If I didn't go, I would have been rotting at home." You giggled, knowing the real answer. As soon as Yuji sent the text, 'wanna go to my brother's game next weekend?'. You had to go. You've been dying to go. Ever since you met Choso for the first time, you made good use of every opportunity you had to see him.

He had an unforgettable face, and a dreamy body you'd sometimes, and shamelessly catch a glimpse of from time to time. But you were doubting, and unsure if the feeling was mutual. The man was busy, which drove you to think he had no time for a woman in his life.

You fixate your head to the rink in front of you. Of course, you got a hold of the best seats. Yuji being the brother of a world renowned hockey player had it’s benefits.

The same bag of popcorn lands firmly onto your lap, Yuji reaching for the soda cup underneath his foot. "Hmm, he looks pissed though. I think I know why." He leans back, index finger scratching at his head.

You furrow your brows, taking several glances around the ice. A familiar back faced you, 'Kamo' and '12' plastered onto the behind of his jersey. Dark hair effortlessly left down, not too much going on. A couple loose strands falling onto his face, Choso looked like a dream. Yuji beside you shrieks for his name, cheering his brother on.

Choso spins around, glaring at the audience. He was outraged, and you weren't sure why. He didn't dare smile, or wave. Yuji grunts at his brothers reaction, smile fading and slouching back down onto the seat.

"..Oh, I get what you mean now." It was undeniable that Choso was a different person behind his helmet, and that he took the sport seriously. He always wanted to make everyone proud. As one of the best players on his team, everyone counted on him, so there was a generous amount of pressure on his shoulders.

The screeching blow of a whistle shrills throughout the arena for half time, Choso violently shoving his hockey stick onto the ice. Plenty of teammates approach him, others choose to not get involved. Either way, he shoves past them. Everyone around you seemed confused, wondering what made him so agitated. You watched as he cursed to his higher-ups, hands strongly gripping onto the side wall.

"Every day, I fucking hate this sport more and more." Choso speaks through gritted teeth, angrily ripping off his helmet. "Piece of shit."

The staff team stands aside, ushering him out of the rink. His coach guides him over to the side bench, crouching down to give him a typical, motivational chat. Choso only puts his head down and into his gloved hands, becoming more and more annoyed by the second.

"Kamo- you know what? Bring your ass back to the locker room and give yourself five." Not knowing what to do, his coach decides it was best for him to blow off some steam. Not letting out another word, he storms off back into the locker rooms, the crowds groaning as he does so; the privacy invading camera focusing on him.

Chatter filled the air between the crowds around you. “..What happened to him? Your brother just stormed off.” You turn to Yuji, confused and filled with millions of questions.

"No clue, but I'm still a bit hungry." Yuji sighs, looking at the now empty plastic bag of popcorn. He takes a sip of what's left in his soda cup.

"..What? You are?" You look through your purse for some money. More than enough, that's for sure. A wrinkled twenty bill was tucked away inside. "Here- I'll go and get you something. It's on me."

You could've sworn that you had seen happiness twinkle in his eyes. This boy certainly loves to eat. "..Really?" He smiles, in response you nod your head up and down.

"Yeah! Just give me five, I'll be back as soon as possible." You warmly confirm the offer and he nods, shortly before you had to endure the entire process squeezing your way back out of the row.

You walk off into the tunnel leading to the outside of the arena. So many halls, and I’m not even familiar with this place. The two minute stroll led you to nowhere anyways, resulting in you doubting yourself. “…Where’s the food court?” You pout, coming to the conclusion you had probably been walking in circles this whole time.

The next long corridor you were met with was filled with doors everywhere. Loads of them. “..Ah.. have I been here before?”

Walking past each door, you look around for anybody nearby who was able to provide some sort of guidance. Hopeless, there was no one at all. Until one door you had walked past was slightly open, the light on. Maybe someone was in there? You genuinely just wanted to get your hot dogs.

You retrace your steps backwards, the faint sound of two voices coming from the room. Curious, you peeked your head through the slight gap.

"I don't think I did my best out there." It was Choso, elbows on knees on a padded seat. Heaving heavily, pulling the last strings of himself together. His coach with arms crossed in front of him. The conversation was hard to make out, but you were still able to put together some bits of it.

Clutching tightly onto your necklace, you couldn't help but feel concerned. Choso adored this sport with his entire heart, but so much he didn't have time to do anything else. Yuji always talked about how distant he could be when preparing for the new season.

The cursing stops, and before you know it, the door in front of you was wide open; framing you to look like an absolute snoop. You howl, instantly stepping back from the door frame. The same coach stood in front of you, an appalling look on his face. "Who the hell are you?! A money hungry reporter? Guards!-"

You nervously laugh, "Oh- No, no- I'm not a-", endless words were coming out of your mouth in a complete babble.

"..I know her." Choso who was watching everything unfold, tilted his head to the side, looking to see who was at the door.

The coach looks at you with an unamused expression, giving Choso a double look. His voice grows low, speaking in a discreet manner. "How about you talk it out with him. He needs it." He says before walking away from the frame, giving you a stare down as he does so.

Dumbfounded, a string of words only come out in a disoriented patter, "..I was just, looking for the.. concession stand.."

Choso on the other hand, keeps quiet. Blankly staring at the carpeted floor. His gloves and skates were off, but his jersey still on. You gulp, considering if you should speak anymore; scared that you'll only tick him off further.

Your hands rested in each of your palms, unsure whether you should step inside. "..I'm here with your brother, actually- cause he invited me to-"

"I know. I wanted you to come. I invited you, I told him to ask you." Choso speaks lowly, his tone different from when he was talking to the coach. He lets out a labored sigh, mumbling. "..Only for me to play like absolute shit,"

Processing what he had just said, it still changed your entire perspective. You didn't know how to think of it though, so you simply looked over it.

Deciding to approach him rather than standing at the door like some stranger, you close the door behind you. Recalling the coach talking about 'money hungry reporters', you didn't want to take any chances. "..I don't mean to pry, but do you want to talk about.. this?" Sitting down on the free seat beside Choso, you were careful with your choice of words. You didn't want to dig the hole any deeper. Making yourself comfortable, you set your bag away to the side and faced him.

Choso's voice was more soft, and it wasn't as stern to when he was talking to his coach. "..I just don't approve of how I'm performing lately."

Personally, you didn't know much about ice hockey. Nor did you store any valuable advice for it in your brain. It pained you to think that if you were to give him advice, you'd sound like a typical high school guidance counselor.

"Oh, well um.." You purse your lips, trying to come up with something to say. "Is it because you're.. stressed?" Still unsure of what to do, your hand slowly makes its way onto the flat of his back; slowly rubbing shapes all over to comfort him.

"Probably." Although his voice was now mellow, Choso's replies were becoming short and quick. You were afraid that this talking out was of no use to him.

Your hand stops its movements, "..Should you do something about it? Like let it out?", Choso lifts his head up, turning to you. A gulp forces down your throat at how intense he was eyeing you, your own eyes unable to hold contact.

Choso blinks, head turning away once again to rest his chin on his palm. "..I don't know how." That was his problem, Choso wasn't good at letting out his emotions. He usually bottled them up, and solved his personal problems on his own— you could almost refer to him as a stoic being.

Clearing your throat, you bite your lower lip to try and think of something. You gave him the advice, but you didn't know the method yourself. This is why I could never be a therapist.

You mentally curse at yourself, trying to come up with a suggestion that isn't so cheesy like, do what you love to do!

"..I don't know either.. Me- I guess?" A worried expression washes over your face, a mazed Choso turning his head to you for the second time.

A perplexed, questioning noise came stirred up in him. "Huh? What do you mean?"

Eyes fluttering, you were unable to provide him with another answer. What did you mean by, 'me'? Was it just another one of those moments where you let your mouth speak before you think? "..You could let it out.. on me?"

Chosos demeanor had altered, his chin peeling away from the warmth of his palm. His body sat upright as he looked at you, his lips slightly parted. You couldn't tell if he was mortified or enthralled; and you were almost begging for him to say something.

He closes his mouth and swallows some spit to nourish his dried out throat, before standing up in front of you. You feel as if your beating heart were to take over your entire body and head any second now. A lingering tension in the air so thick— not even a lumberjack could saw through it.

Choso's eyes surveying you from top to bottom, studying the features on your face— his thumb swipes across your cheek in a tender, reassuring matter. He was grateful of your offer, but he just couldn't bring himself to directly accept it.

Choso's hand slowly moves down your face, the tip of his thumb gently pressing down on your lower lip. "..You look good in our jersey," His thumb forces the rest of its way into your mouth, "..but even better if it was my own." Was this a code phrase for, 'I need to fuck you, and I need to fuck you now?' His thoughts drifted off to filthy things—like imagining himself rutting into you in his own, bespoke jersey, 'Kamo' in a dirty gold written on your back as you take him whole like a good girl.

Your breath hitches, his finger gliding over the surface of your tongue before he decides to pull it back out. Choso starts to take off the gear on his upper half, both the body pads and jersey.

It was difficult enough to keep your eyes off the now, half naked Choso in front of you. His body muscular and perfectly carved from all of the work he's been putting in for preparation, Choso was more than pleasing to look at. He tosses his jersey and gear beside you, his hands grabbing onto the flesh of your waist.

Lifting you from the seat, you wrap your legs around his torso, lips desperately locking onto each other as he switched positions. The two of you now sitting back down on the seat.

Short mewls and gasps for air leave your mouth as you started to pull your top over your head; Choso's hands roaming all over the surface of your ass. Your hands travel down his chest, your finger tips tracing over his abs painfully slow. Tongues tangling, Choso swallowing any moan he could get from you, especially after the distressingly slow period of yearning for one another. It felt like a reward.

Being the skilled man he is, his fingertips undo the clasp of your bra effortlessly. Groaning in satisfaction, eyes closed and sucking; a free hand fondling with the other.

You claw your fingers through his hair, quietly moaning as he hungrily latched onto your nipple. Arching against his bare skin, you ached to keep him close, and possibly closer. Amidst the sucking, Choso reaches for his jersey beside him, gesturing you to put it over your head. He fulfilled his wish. You proudly raise your arms up, feeling the fabric graze against your skin. It was quite massive on you, hence himself being twice your size.

Impatient, your curious hands wander off to the waistband of his pants; his safety gear already being off had made it easier. Reaching down and past his skin tight shorts, a thought evoking in you causing your hand to withdraw.

"..W-wait," You pant, "What about everyone out there?" You couldn't help but worry about those outside who would start to get suspicious. You knew how much this mattered to him.

Choso rolls his eyes. "I don't really care, they're assholes anyway. Let them wait." His lips only make its way back onto the skin of your neck, warm breath fanning down your sternum. He didn't care if everyone else were to wait outside. He had been waiting for this moment, dreaming about it - and would do anything to not miss it.

Using two hands, you possessively grab onto his jaw to keep him closer, Choso's hands cheekily moving up inside the jersey and cupping onto both of your tits. He really loves them, doesn't he?

Pulling away for another breath your lips miss his already. You hop off his lap, hastily unbuttoning and kicking off your jeans. They fly away to the other side of the locker room, Choso pulling you back into his embarace. But this time, you were facing the other way.

His fingers tug onto the hem of your panties, pulling them back until they snapped against your skin; the stinging sound echoing throughout the room.

You intently watch yourself in the full length mirror across from you two, Choso using his hands to guide your legs open; his head falling onto the crook of your neck.

Choso's hand slowly made its way down to the your panties, his fingertips moving the fabric to the side. Toying with your folds, taking his sweet time. His delicate, addicting touch giving you shivers all over. You close your eyes to indulge in the ecstasy of this moment; scolding yourself for not doing this with him any sooner.

His same fingertips circle your clit, the speed of his movements fluctuating; which resulted in you grabbing onto his bicep, your body sinking down into his lap. Choso watches you break into pieces under his touch, how you repeatedly tap on his arm- asking for leniency.

Choso leans down to your ear, his throaty voice almost sounding like he's purring. “Just relax for me, I can feel you’re too tensed up.” Wasn’t it supposed to be me who gives him advice? Why is it that the roles have reversed?

The back of your head presses deeply into his chest, Choso bringing retrieving fingers give them a generous suck before pushing them into you. His fingers curl up inside, working them in a motion that emits a squelching noise.

“C-Choso, it’s too much- please,” A whimper crawls out of your throat, the man above you cooing and hushing you.

Your hair raising pleas being the catalyst for him only wanting to do more than he already is. His middle finger taps and teases and your bundle of nerves, his strength making your tug on his wrist pointless. “..Shh, you don’t want them to hear, do you?”

You frantically shake your head from side to side, Choso grinning against the top of your head as he had you wrapped around his finger. Cock straining against his shorts, he would take a photo to make this memory last.

His gestures come to a halt and you whine, Choso had forbidden you from orgasming. "Choso!" You hiss as he glues his hands to your hips, twirling you around against the seat.

Mindfully pressing onto the flat of your lower back, he bends you forward; in need of support, your hands reached for the wooden slabs that divided the seats. His strong hands rip your underwear into fragments off your body, Choso sneering at you nagging him.

His actions in no rush, the same hands that were cupping your pussy now feeling down your back, Choso sheepishly grinning at this fresh new view, a degree of gratification fills him for the hundredth time at the sight of 'Kamo' and '12' plastered on your back.

You reach behind you, barely tapping your fingers on Choso's pelvis to grab his attention. He leans down to hear what you had to say, the imprint of his cock imprisoned by his shorts pressed against your bare pussy.

“..Let it all out, I promise I’ll be okay.” Your hand snaked behind his head, fingers combing through his hair one last time. His body heat glossed over your behind, a position so intimate.“Just tell me if I’m hurting you, alright?”

Nodding in approval, Choso withdraws into his old position. Grabbing for his girthy cock out of his shorts, he groans as he jerks it ever so slightly. Forming an orb of spit on his tongue, letting it fall directly onto his length. He doesn't waste anymore time to slide it in, the objective of not hurting you still at the back of his mind.

You let out a long, awaited whimper that broke out into a pained sniffle, his entire length stretching you out. Your anchoring onto the wooden panels only grew stronger, Choso stilling in you for a few moments. The two of you create a symphony of guilty satisfaction, Choso himself unable to process that you let him inside of you; luckiest man in the world, he thought.

His grip on the plush of your waist transition into a soothing massage, “..Are you okay?” Concerned, he regards your strained noises.

Tears well up in your eyes, Choso rubbing his hands up and down your back. “..I-I’m fine.” You replied, managing to form some words. Even though it hurts, you didn't want him to stop. You wanted this as much as he did. He inhales deeply, grunting as his hips stroked into you slow and deep. He took you in like a work of art, savoring every minute, second with you.

“Fuck, Choso- just go faster will you? I know you want to.” You choke out, words dying in your throat. Choso obeying the green llight, you felt him grab and twist onto the fabric of the jersey behind you, his hips snapping into you at a faster pace.

A cacophony of skin slapping and moaning echoed throughout the room, Choso brings his hand down to toy with your clit; heightening your stimulation. Your entire body jolting with each of his thrusts, his little praises like 'good girl', and 'you're taking me so well' making your sex pool like mad.

Broken and choppy curses slip past your wet llips, Choso letting go of the jersey and fixing his grip on your scalp, pulling your head back towards him.

His hand sneaks underneath your chin, forcing you to maintain eye contact as you furrow your brows up at him. Your mouth stays wide open, moans no longer heard coming out from it. "Look at me baby," lids shut at the colossal pleasure, Choso needs not to repeat himself; but he does. "I said, look at me," Hauling your eyelids up, a vision of Choso glaring down at you from above— he wasn't the same person as the one half an hour ago.

Choso drops yet another ball of spit into your mouth, patting on the bottom of your chin telling you to shut and swallow, letting out a throaty sound in approval.

Clawing his fingers back into your scalp, he pushes your head back down. His leg lands onto the seat beside you, his thrusts brutally drilling into you deeper than before; Choso definitely rearranging your guts. You let him use you, so he did exactly that. Hell- if you two had a bed, just make sure you have enough saved for a new one the next day.

Makeup was unfortunately ruined from tears and spit, your hair no longer in perfect style from all the grabbing. His heavy balls relentlessly slapped against your clit, Choso huffing quietly.

He takes a hold of your two wrists, prying you from the comfort of the seat and commanding you to stand. Hypnotised, you watched everything unfold; Choso still holding onto your arms behind you as he continued to rut into your hole like a mad man.

Your cheeks were stained with tears, all sorts of unimaginable feelings stirring in the pool of your stomach; Choso already grows bored of the position. He swiftly lides you off his cock, turning you around for the fifth time today so he could see your beautiful face one more time.

Unsure of what was to happen next, you tiringly wrap both of your hands around his neck as he cupped onto the surface of your ass, lifting you up and sinking you down onto his cock. Your head rests against his chest in exhaustion, Choso’s anchored grip slowly loosening, choosing to move into the inside of your legs. Short paced breaths and eyes shutting at the new sensation of him fucking up into you. It was light work to him, carrying you was no problem at all.

Pushing both of you against a nearby wall, your back almost slid up and down the cold panels as Choso grew feral, his cock bullying but thoughtfully kissing your cervix at this unforgiving pace.

You fail to keep your eyes open, body taken over by bliss as he bottoms into you, convinced you had lost your voice. Choso could feel your silky juices move down his shaft, walls constantly clenching around around him.

“Don’t you dare close those eyes,” Choso orders, your hands hysterically tapping onto his shoulders to let him know you were going to snap. Your face winced in pain, you knew that you were going to have a hard time walking for the next week or two.

“..C-Choso,” you choke out, a threshold about to be met as the unfamiliar coil in your stomach urges to let loose.

His thrusts deepening to push you over the edge, cock sloppily moving in and out of your hole; his entire length coated with you.

“Just let it out— let it out.” he desperately whimpered, your mouth forming an ‘o’. His words like a spell, something that will haunt you for days coming. Choso’s eyes faux-sympathetically looking into yours that were blinking like mad as he felt your legs shiver in his grasp.

You shatter and cry at the orgasm that washed over you, bringing yourself to look at his cock withdrawing from your puffy, used cunt. Choso's jaw clenched, beads of white endlessly form at his tip, his balls twitching at the same time your gummy walls pulsed and throbbed around him.

He doesn’t let go of you, bodies still overheating and glistening from sweat. Instead he carries you back to the seats, sitting you down like a fragile porcelain doll. “My legs,” your voice raspy from the endless moaning, “..they’re so sore.”

Choso leans in for a meaningful kiss, your cock-dazed smile forming against his lips. His hands kneading your thighs. The locker room smelled of filthy, sinful sex—but that will just air out in no time. “..You need me to walk you out?”

“Choso, you can’t. There are cameras everywhere.” You grab your purse off the ground, in search of your phone. Almost forty five minutes have passed, your eyes widening. “Huh?! How long have I been gone for?"

He attempts to wipe the stained carpets, a faint white still engraved. Atleast he tried. “Pussy too good I forgot where I was, I’m not gonna lie.”

“Not funny, Choso. I need to get back to your brother!” Scurrying around the room, you pick your jeans off the ground, Choso whistling behind you causing you to turn your head,

“..Guess these aren’t of use to you anymore?” He holds the fragments of your panties up, torn to pieces, the dismaying mempry angering you as you were reminded of it for the second time.

You snap at him, Choso not taking any inch of you seriously. I mean, he literally had you whimpering, fucked you in his jersey and melting under his touch less than five minutes ago. “You fucking owe me a new pair.”

“I’ll buy you a hundred.”

You hurry out into the lobby, looking around for Yuji. Not having time to fix your hair, you almost scream as you walked past a reflection of yourself, mortified at how you looked. It’s okay… he wouldn’t suspect anything, right?

A familiar coral haired person was lounging at the sofas down the end, of course that had to be him. “Y-Yuji? is that you?” The head turning to your direction, it definitely was him; his eyes were shocked to still see you alive and standing before him.

You sit on the free armchair beside him, “..I’m so sorry, something just.. happened.” Nervously smiling, you wipe the residues of dried spit off your chin, your head stuck in one direction to avoid looking at Yuji in the face. Airing yourself with an invisible fan, you look away in all sorts of directions.

“It’s cool, the game got cancelled anyways- and I got my hotdogs.” He points to the four empty wrappers on the table in front of him. Yuji leans back against the sofa.

“..Uh— ..Is that, Choso's jersey?"

Fuck.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ © luvwestwood ‘24 all works are owned by me, and originally come from my own head. please do not re-post on a third party platform without my permission!

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ as always, thank you for the love on each and every one of my posts! it means the world to me, ily guys sm!!🎀🩷

[luvwestwood masterlist]

#choso kamo smut #choso smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #choso kamo x reader #choso x you #choso kamo #choso x reader #jujutsu kaisen choso

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cntloup · 15 days

Note

what do you think simon’s type would be? i love your work btw 🫶🥹

ooh this is interesting😃 thank you luv glad you like my work🥰💗 i'm sorry this got so long i went on a rant about how he would enter a relationship in general🙃

so i think for the most part, he'd avoid relationships altogether. not because he wouldn't want to pass on the curse that has been cast on him to another person. i think he's rational and knows that there's no curse here. yes, he's been unfortunate his whole life but it's something that has just happened. so one reason would simply be that he doesn't have time to maintain a relationship. but of course there's a more profound reason and it's that he's a broken man. he knows that it would be really difficult to be in a relationship with him. and it would be very difficult for him to trust someone enough to let them in. so yeah it would be highly unlikely.

and i don't see him as the type to go for one-night stands that much either. i'd say a moderate amount maybe to release some pent up energy after deployments.

if it ever happens and he falls in love, it will be a slooow burn. like it would take a reallyyy long time. and it would be with someone whom he sees regularly. not necessarily in his own line of work but maybe a neighbor, some coffee shop worker or a librarian etc. someone whom he can form a friendship with first. he needs to dip his toes in to test the waters first before diving into a relationship. so yeah i think it would be friends to lovers for him.

and i don't think your style would matter to him at all. coquette, tomboy, whatever you are, it's your personality that matters to him. of course he would fawn over your style too once you're in a relationship, but it wouldn't be a part of his criteria for entering a relationship.

and personality wise, he would never tolerate a crybaby at all. someone who whines and wails over minor stuff would irritate him to no end. so it would be someone who has a somewhat rough and tough layer to them. not as extreme as him of course, he wouldn't expect that from anyone.

and of course someone who has a certain darkness within them. so in this case, someone similar to him, with a traumatic past. again, not as extreme as him of course. but to some extent, carrying a bit of baggage. so they would understand the pain and torment he carries within his heart every second of the day and the toll it takes on him. so they can be patient with him as he lets them in gradually to peel off the layers that he has built over the years one by one.

that being said, he would be extremely protective. yes, you're strong and tough, a little fucked up in the head and you can handle yourself perfectly, but that doesn't mean you have to. he would step in the moment he notices your discomfort in any situation. he would take mental notes of every single one of your triggers, however minor, and he'd protect you and take you away from any situation that would cause even an ounce of discomfort to you.

i might change my mind about this in the future but this is my opinion rn :)

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ell0ra-br3kk3r-writes · 10 months

Text

Enchanted

pairing: kaz brekker x fem!reader

genre: fluff

el's thoughts: the first fic from the speak now event! requested by @wonderland2425 i hope you enjoy it! y/n is nikolai's sister in this story, but no physical traits are described

“Princess!”

Y/N turned around to see some old family… friends, as her mother would call them.

“Oh my! How grown you’ve become.” The older man smiled and reached for her hand as his wife stood beside him with a tired smile.

“Yes,” she chuckled. “It has been a few years since I’ve been to a gathering like this. And I have to say, what a momentous occasion it is.” She looked down the hall desperately searching for someone to use as an escape. She saw two palace guards talking to each other and smiled. “I’ll have to excuse myself. I think my escorts are here.” She dipped her head into a bow of respect.

Placing her hands on the top layer of her deep purple dress, she walked away from the couple. She adjusted the off-the-shoulder neckline, her fingers running over the rhinestones around her shoulders. Once she was close enough she heard the female guard clear her throat as they both turned to face her.

“Your Highness.”

Y/N smiled kindly at the bronze-skinned girl and turned to the taller man beside her. “Will you escort me to the main hall, please? I don’t think I can stand another conversation with these people.” She chuckled to fill the moment of silence before he nodded and walked beside her.

She felt a bit uneasy as she let him lead the way. She made an effort to know every guard from her home yet these two had managed to slip past her notice. “Are you new?”

“Why would you ask that?” His voice was rough like rock salt as if he was getting over a sore throat.

“It’s just that, I typically know all of our staff back at the castle… I didn’t mean any offense.”

The guard nodded stiffly and turned the corner, walking into the main hall. He stood still, waiting for her to walk to the rest of the royal family but she continued to stay beside him.

Y/N felt his confusion and said, “I don’t feel like going in yet… Do you mind me waiting here?”

He looked down at her, his mind racing as if trying to solve a puzzle. “You’re the Princess, you shouldn’t be asking.”

“Well, I know, but you also have a job and you have orders from someone in a higher position. If you need to be somewhere else then you can leave.” Y/N smiled kindly.

It was as if her smile never left her face and her thoughtfulness was what she expected people to receive from her.

The hall fell into a hushed mummer as Alina walked into the room. General Kirigan led her to the stage and introduced her. He pulled the shadows of the room tighter and stepped back to let Alina take center stage. She clasped her hands together and pulled them apart, a ball of light floating between them. She brought the light to one hand and separated it into two orbs. She continued to push them towards the center of the room so the light reflected off the chandelier.

The people in the hall gasped and were awed at the miracle before them. Alina made the light fade and everyone slowly fell to their knees before her. Y/N placed a hand over her heart and bowed her head in prayer to the Saints, but she didn’t get on her knees. She was still the princess and she was told ‘bow to no one’.

Kaz cleared his throat and forced his eyes back on Alina as she made her way to the back of the room. ‘The mission,’ he reminded himself, internally scolding himself for staring at the princess during the light show. Scolding himself for noticing the way the light reflected in her eyes and the jewels on her dress and around her neck. ‘The mission.’

Y/N looked up at him and saw a distant yet determined look in his eyes. “You must have other things to do.” She stepped forward and turned to face him. “I’ll let you get back to your work, but I extend my gratitude to you for waiting with me.” She spun on her heel and pulled her shoulders back as she walked forward to her mother’s side. She froze in her steps and turned back towards him. “I didn’t ask for your name,” she said once she stood in front of him again.

Kaz’s mind screamed at him not to tell her but he found himself at peace in her presence. “Kaz.” The flash of recognition in her eyes didn’t go unnoticed.

“Kaz,” she smiled. “That’s a nice name. I’ll make sure to keep an eye open for you back at the palace.”

The Bastard of the Barrel stood there in a royal guard’s uniform watching the princess walk away from him.

Kaz and Inej walked towards where Jesper stood, leaning against the stone statue.

“What happened, are you okay?” Jesper asked as he looked over Inej.

“She’s real, Jesper. She made the light sing.”

Kaz glared between the two. “We lost her.”

“Did we?” Jesper smirked.

“We don’t know where she is,” said Kaz.

“Don’t we?” The Zemini laughed, “Just ask.”

“Jesper…” Kaz’s tone was a warning.

“Just ask.”

The three crows climbed onto the carriage, Jesper taking the reins with Kaz beside him while Inej stood behind the pair.

“Just ask,” said Jesper again.

“Fine. Do we have a fix on where to target it?” asked Kaz.

Jesper smiled and shook his head, getting the horses into a trot.

Kaz sat silently beside Jesper staring blankly ahead. His mind went back to his encounter with the princess in between thinking of the sun summoner. He didn’t believe in love at first sight and he knew he never would, but his curiosity was piqued, to say the least. He wanted to know more about her and figure out why she was the way she was. Why she was so kind to a stranger in a familiar uniform?

“What are you thinking about?” Inej asked over his shoulder.

“Nothing.”

“C’mon, you can tell us,” chimed Jesper.

“I said nothing.”

The two crows knew better than to push him farther but also knew better than to believe it was nothing.

Inej had seen Kaz stare at the princess during and after the light show. She knew the princess confused him and he wanted to solve the puzzle. And she knew he’d put it aside till this job was done.

“Nikolai!”

“Y/N!”

The younger sibling wrapped her arms around her brother in a warm greeting. “I’ve missed you.”

“Just as I’ve missed you. How have you been?” The pair moved to sit down on the couch of Nikolai’s waiting room.

“I’ve been great. You’ll never believe who I met today.”

The prince laughed, “Who?”

“That Kaz Brekker of yours.” Y/N smiled widely at her brother’s disbelief. “Yes, I did. And for him being a gang leader, he had himself a very good set of manners. Though he didn’t talk much but I don’t blame him for that.”

Nikolai watched his sister with a knowing smile. He noticed the twinkle in her eye as she spoke about her latest encounter. “Was he handsome?”

“Oh, very handsome.” Y/N’s eyes widened as soon as the words slipped from her lips and gasped before covering her mouth with her hand.

The older of the two laughed, “I had a feeling. Just asking.”

“You had no right, Nik.”

“I had every right. You're my sister and I’m his employer… He just doesn’t know it yet.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, “Yes yes, I know. I’m going to bed now. Good night.” Nikolai smiled and wished her good night.

Once she reached her room she twirled around in her nightgown, smiling giddily to herself. She had never experienced a crush before and this new feeling fluttered through her chest excitedly. The unknown of it all was addicting and she loved it. Would she see him again? Is he still awake thinking of her just as she’s thinking of him? Did he have another girl back home waiting for him?

“Please don’t have somebody waiting on you.” She spoke aloud as if the Saints above will carry her message to him. Throwing herself back into her bed, she pulled the covers around her body. Her eyes grew heavy and a yawn slipped past her lips. She switched her light off and smiled into her pillow as her thoughts echoed his name. “I was enchanted to meet you.”

#ellora.writes #kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker x y/n #six of crows #six of crows x reader #six of crows imagines

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tulipsforvin · 6 months

Note

Do you still open the request? If you do, can I request green and red flag like the same thing you wrote about William but in this one can you write Albert please?

Albert J. Moriarty

Green & Red Flags

A/N: I found this request in the middle of 40 of my drafts. Dunno if you'll see this anymore but I'M SO, SO SORRY FOR NOT RESPONDING SOONER !! Also, I feel like I'm too biased but I literally cannot imagine this man having red flags😭

Format: Headcannons.

Green flags:

✧ Albert gushes SO MUCH about you to his colleagues and brothers. He's just so deeply in love with you that he can't seem to ramble on and on when you're the topic of discussion.

✧ He likes to tease you. Alot. You'll never be bored of talking to him because he loves having playful banters with you.

✧ Albert, being the gentleman that he is, will always pay for whatever the two of you do. He likes to show you his affection so he often buys you many things.

✧ He probably tries really hard to cook with you and although his cooking is almost atrocious, he's always trying hard for you.

✧ He's good at baking, though and will feed you the crème brulé that he made especially for you. (if you don't know what a crème brulé is, it's like this creamy, custard goodness and the upper layer is covered in melted sugar).

✧ He does not mind spending money on you - no matter the expense, he wants you to feel loved and if gifts can do that? So be it.

✧ Dates with him are elegant and classy. He'll take you to expensive restaurants, probably reserve the entirety of it for the night, take you to watch operas and plays, shopping and getting you new clothes, accessories, shoes - anything. You name it, it's yours.

✧ Albert will get you out of any social situations if you're feeling anxious or uncomfortable in mere seconds. He can read the room well and is attentive enough to know when his love is beginning to panic.

✧ He's very passionate and romantic. He would not shy away when it comes to you. He loves you and wants to show it - public or not, he'll always make sure to be by your side.

✧ He loves holding you in his arms!! There's just something about feeling you against his skin that makes his heart swell in love for you.

✧ His OCD makes him organized and clean. He probably has wet wipes in his pockets or something so he can occasionally wipe your face anytime you go out with him - especially in sunny, dusty areas.

Red flags:

✧ Alcoholic. Need I say more? If the two of you aren't getting absolutely hammered together, taking care of him in his intoxicated state would probably be difficult.

✧ He's also very busy with his occupation as a high ranking general in the military. The two of you will probably have to spend a long time away from each other.

✧ Sometimes he gets very frustrated if things are not in proper order and will scold you if you leave something out of place.

✧ He's also probably the overprotective type with his S/O. He doesn't want to let you out his sight and will follow you around everywhere to the point that it might get annoying.

✧ Lack of communication, I guess? I mean, he killed his birth family. I don't think that what he did was entirely justified, but that's a story for another time. It just seems like he has difficulties talking things out.

✧ He probably has a strict schedule that he sticks to - like most military men do. He's disciplined but sometimes it might feel a little too overwhelmed on his partner.

✧ Most likely says and shares alot of embarrassing things when he's a little too much intoxicated. I can vision Albert discussing his and his partner's sex life to Moran or something when he's wasted.

✧ He also most likely comes home really late. And I mean, in the middle of the night or one in the morning. Dunno, just seems that way.

✧ He probably spends shit tons of money on the most weirdest things. I mean, we've seen an official art where he knitted a weird sweater for Mycroft. His taste is questionable. (Kind of endearing though, I can't lie)

✧ Gives you the silent treatment after arguements, rare though the arguements with him might be.

✧ I think he has some controlling tendencies, although not too overt - he wants a fair amount of control of things in his life. Sometimes it might go over the top (but hell apologize in the end)

#moriarty the patriot #mtp albert #albert james moriarty x you #albert james moriarty x reader #albert james moriarty #albert james moriarty x y/n #serraphim answers #serraphim

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7-wonders · 1 year

Text

Morpheus Does Not Understand Millennial/Gen-Z Humor (Morpheus x reader)

Sometimes, it's difficult to remember that Morpheus is an anthropomorphic personification of a concept that is likely billions of years old. When you look at him, after all, he looks like a regular man (an unfairly pretty regular man, but a man all the same)

Morpheus was also locked up underground for over a century, which adds another layer of complexity to him

This leads to some pretty...interesting interactions with him

Let's face it: Millennials and Gen-Z'ers are nihilists on their best days

We've seen manmade horror after manmade horror our entire lives while living in the midst of late-stage capitalism, which has given all of us a pretty odd sense of humor

When you begin to date/court/see Morpheus, he becomes privy to this in the worst of ways

The first time is when you're attempting to look something up on your phone and you drop it

The device lands face-down on the ground, and you stare at what has now become Schrödinger's phone for a long moment

After letting out a long, pained sigh, you go to pick it up and mutter "I swear to god if this screen shattered, I'm gonna fucking kill myself"

Morpheus, of course, heard you perfectly clear

When you straighten up and look at him after checking your phone (no damage, thankfully), you see his horrified gaze

"I—You will do no such thing. I positively forbid it."

He looks torn between lecturing you and sitting you down for an intervention, so you grab one of his hands to stop his spiraling before it can go any further

"No I don't actually wanna kill myself, it's a..." What is it? A figure of speech? A meme? A joke? Finally, you settle on, "It's just something people say when faced with a minor inconvenience."

Morpheus is not at all impressed with this, and it shows very clearly on his face. "That is ridiculous, that one would become suicidal over something as trivial as their cellular device falling."

You just shrug in a "what can you do?" expression

This isn't the only instance that Morpheus gets to see generational humor at play

One time you're at the New Inn bc Hob is trying to curate a new cocktail menu and needs an outside opinion (Morpheus is just standing in the corner like 🧍‍♂️)

After you try your favorite one you're like, "Hob this SLAPS"

Hob's beaming bc he understands what you're saying since he teaches college students, but Morpheus pipes up and says, "The drink does not have arms with which to slap you"

This sends you and Hob into hysterics

Don't even try to open TikTok when he's anywhere near you bc he WILL want to see what you're laughing at and having to explain a TikTok takes all of the humor out of it

( "Well it's funny because she said that the rats don't run the city like it's a declaration of war against the rats"

"What is it then?"

"...I'm changing the subject")

Matthew has become your gossip buddy because he sees everything, and one night in the Dreaming he finds you in the library with Morpheus

He's doing excited little raven hops across the table and you say, "Matthew, do you have tea for me?"

Matthew's about to reply that, yes he does and you had better buckle up, when Morpheus beats him

"Would you like tea, my love? I can arrange that for you."

You smile at him like he's a child that just said something funny. "No, 'tea' means gossip. Matthew looks like he has gossip."

You whisper popular TikTok sounds under your breath a lot and Morpheus has just learned to not even ask when he hears you mutter something like, "Interior crocodile alligator, I drive a Chevrolet movie theater."

You're just glad you've never been in a car with him, because you know that the instinctive "Road work ahead? Uh YEAH I SURE HOPE IT DOES" that you won't be able to stop yourself from saying when you see a 'Road Work Ahead' sign will probably make his poor head explode

#morpheus imagine #morpheus x reader #morpheus #dream of the endless imagine #dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless #the sandman imagine #the sandman

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joanofarcbutsilly · 10 months

Text

shake the frost

simon “ghost” riley x reader

TW: angst to comfort!!!!!! simon and reader’s relationship is undoubtedly toxic (don’t worry it gets better), simon is not emotionally available in the slightest, mentions of sex in a friends with benefits type relationship but nothing is ever described, small disagreement, there’s kind of a breakup???? but it ends happy

not requested but this is for @corvusmorte who had commented on my last post about this song tehehe

simon has this undeniable coldness to him

he just seems to reek of apathy for his fellow man

upon first glance, you might think simon is just another product of military training. in general, for the type of work simon does, anyone would have to be able to distance themselves from people and the emotions they come with. i mean soap is normally a genuinely kind and thoughtful individual, but turns into a whole different being while on the field

simon is just different though. it doesn’t seem like he has any ability to turn it off, it’s just a part of him

without really knowing him, it’s easy to imagine peeling back this layer of his personality and finding a deep dark void where his soul should be

he is absolutely aware of this general aura and has never had the urge to make a change

he doesn’t get a lot of good first impressions because of this, and very rarely does anyone ever attempt to chip away at his shell

i cant stress enough it is HARD WORK to get to know this man

the fastest way to foster a connection with him is through a friends with benefits type situation (although he will not refer to you as a friend either, you are just a coworker with whom he has sex)

when you DO come to understand him a bit better from piecing little morsels of information together, you come to understand that his coldness is just a means to defend himself

years of pain and mistreatment quite literally from the day of his birth has turned him into a cornered dog, gnashing and thrashing at any attempts to get closer, wether you be friend or foe

knowing his reasons for this is one thing, but putting up with it is another. having empathy for his predicament does NOT mean that you should have to put up with any of his unkindness

i just imagine being in a relationship (if you can even call it that) with simon, built purely on physical interactions. you are someone to warm his bed, plain and simple, and he is not afraid to tell you this.

he has his moments, where he tries, in his own way, to maintain the connection you two have fostered

he’ll pick up little trinkets for you on his travels, little reminders that he DOES in fact think about you when you’re out of his room.

he’s also a pillar of stability for you. no matter the burden you carry. simon is one of those people who you just feel more relaxed by extension because he DOES NOT FREAK OUT

you can also take comfort in the fact that simon will ALWAYS be there to protect you. he will ALWAYS have your back, and even if he doesn’t vocalize it, you know that he would kill or die for you without an ounce of hesitation

he cares, not outwardly.

and you know, you KNOW he cares even if he doesn’t say it, you KNOW. but it can be so incredibly draining to be carrying the entire emotional burden of your relationship (which he vehemently denies the existence of)

so things can be good! you and simon have great moments! but some not so great ones as well

as mentioned, he refuses to acknowledge your importance in his life. and even though you can pick up on the clues of his actual thoughts and feelings on you and your whole arrangement, it can be so exhausting to be told and shown the opposite

some nights after your escapades he will let you stay, and sometime in the middle of the night you’ll wake up to a heavy arm across your abdomen and a heavy sigh. you breathe just a little bit quieter and resist the urge to rearrange yourself so as to not wake him up

the next day, he makes no mention of his midnight affection, so neither do you. you think you have turned a corner in the relationship.

but the next time you two- ahem- get together… following the activity he scoops up your things from the floor and drops them next to you on the bed with his eyes straight ahead. while you just kinda sit there in a disappointed stupor he silently walks to his bathroom, and you can feel the unsaid demand to leave his room before he gets back.

this is a pretty typical pattern, there’s the initial hope following an abnormally affectionate behavior or moment, which is immediately crushed when simon all but launches himself away to maintain a comfortable emotional distance from you.

you cannot vocalize your discomfort with this dynamic either. bringing this up would immediately start up an argument, where simon says that you are overreacting, and you knew what this was and what you are to him. this can end up happening a lot, he avoids healthy emotional communication like the PLAGUE.

after some time together you come to learn what sets him off in a fighting mood.

a BIG one to avoid is “prying” into his past. you cannot and should not be the one to ask any personal questions. all you’re going to get is a pissed off simon and a response along the lines of how “if he wanted to he’d tell you”

anything and everything you know about simon’s history is the result of a slip of the tongue, or the occasional comment by him or someone else on the 141

past this, it’s up to you to use your detective skills to piece together a timeline of simon’s life

following every fight or disagreement with simon there is a gap wherein you might as well be strangers.

the silence almost seems like a punishment, which makes fights absolutely unbearable. you’ve always got the thought in the back of your head that you two might never come back from this, and to keep any kind of connection with simon you’ve got to walk around eggshells for the foreseeable future.

the silence is hard, but he also just has his outbursts on occasion where he just absolutely snaps on you

these breaks happen in his own moments of emotional instability, like after a nightmare

when you do end up staying the night with him, and you hear the even cadence of his breathing suddenly interrupted before he tenses behind you, it’s critical to just lay there and pretend it’s not happening. should you wake him up, you have to pretend he was just snoring or moving around too much, and under no circumstances should you let him know you’re aware of his bad dream.

one such occasion ended up being the proverbial straw that broke the camels back. you finally believed the dynamic between you and simon was comfortable enough that you did wake him up and alerted him to the fact that you were aware of his bad dream, and of course he could tell you anything, and talking about nightmares with someone else often helps you get a better nights sleep, he just stared at you with a blank look for a few seconds. he then threw himself up to sit facing away from you, taking some deep breaths that slowly devolved into a growl. you hesitantly said his name again, which apparently set him off, standing abruptly and shoving his nightstand.

“ghost,” he corrects flatly between clenched teeth, “get out.”

it was clear to see there was no arguing with him, so you just peel his shirt over your head and set it on the bed before dressing and all but running away.

simon makes no attempts to talk to you for a while following this incident, and it is was honestly for the best. you love him, but you cannot put yourself in the position to be hurt by him again. this is the forced distance you need to make a break from you very clearly unhealthy situation.

this goes on for months following the initial confrontation, no late night rendezvous, no talks, no nothing. absolutely cold turkey.

the rest of the 141 is so sick and tired of you both during this for various reasons. they can all feel the tension rolling off of you both when you are either in each other’s presence, or one of you is brought up. price, although he does care for the well-being of his teammates, needs to make sure that all of the cogs of the machine are in working order. soap hates that ghost is in emotional turmoil, but can do nothing about it because any hand extended in simon’s direction might be ripped off. gaz is not as close with ghost as soap is, and doesn’t have a real concern in the leadership side of things, but absolutely hates the anxiety it causes. he misses just having fun with his teammates, but now he knows any teasing could go unbelievably wrong.

all of this comes to a head after a particularly grueling mission which lands you and soap in medical. soap ended up fine, he just had a dislocated shoulder and a nasty slash on his leg that the doctors wanted to keep a little bit of an eye on to avoid anything worse. soap was a good bedside companion, and easy company compared to the new norm of being constantly on edge. but all good things had to end, and johnny was freed from bed-rest and had to get back to work after just a few days. you weren’t gifted the same luck, and ended having to stay an entire week due to a broken ankle and a not so great concussion. sitting in the dark and sleeping constantly was a nice break, but it’s inevitable to get a bit stir crazy.

there was honestly nothing that could have been done, it was just a shit show. despite it not really being anyone’s fault, price is not quiet about the fact that maybe things could have gone better if two CERTAIN INDIVIDUALS could act like ADULTS and COMMUNICATE at WORK without RUINING THE TEAM DYNAMIC. price comes to you with this message, which usually would be unwelcome, but after being bored out of your mind, any human interaction was a welcome experience. price also makes the not so subtle threat of forced therapy should you and ghost not talk to each other within the next week (this was not so welcome). you assure price that you will talk to ghost when you’re off of rest.

this ends your little vacation, and you have to start thinking about how you are going to go about discussing this with simon

you have to sit there with nothing else to do other than twiddling your thumbs and staring at the ceiling, stewing in the pit of anxiety that’s brewing in the base of your stomach.

the confrontation comes much sooner than you’d like

just a day before your release you’re going along with your usual rumination of your expected conversation with simon, the metal rings of the curtain around your bed screech as they’re pulled back. a nurse sticks her head in through the window with a smile and tells you that you have a visitor.

much to your surprise you see ghost in full gear standing by the door like a vulture or some sort of gargoyle.

you stare at each other for a moment before you break eye contact and pretend to busy yourself with sorting out your bedding. without looking you hear the scuff-scuff of simon’s shoes dragging across the floor, and then the scream of a chair being carried along for the ride.

simon positions the chair next to your bed and takes a seat.

there’s a long stretch of silence which you decide to break, just to get the conversation over with, you tell him price already explained the situation to you. you apologize for any uncomfortableness on the field and end with a generic “i hope that going forward this will not affect our work relationship”

simon sighs after you finish and the silence returns yet again.

this time you decide that the ball is officially in simon’s court although you couldn’t have expect his next move

ghost leans forward and rests his arms on his knees, allowing his head to meet his hands.

despite his now floor facing position, it’s quiet enough to hear him apologize. simon says he’s sorry. he says the way he treated you was unfair and needlessly cruel.

still a bit shocked, you remark that although his actions did hurt you, you appreciate the apology.

you decide it is only fair that for all the pain he caused, he should sit in the same silence he had left you in all of those times before. he would not find comfort in you.

it takes a while for him to respond, just telling you that he knows.

you tell simon again that you appreciate the apology, but there is nothing much else to say about the matter. as much as he doesn’t want to admit it, you understand him more than he’d like. you know that he is a good person even if he doesn’t think so. but he hurt you. your only crime was trying to be there for him. you tell him it was so unfair for him to treat you like you had done something horribly wrong by attempting to be closer to him. to constantly send you mixed messages about what the two of you were and the nature of your relationship was. you told him you felt like an idiot. for following him around as if he hadn’t already very clearly shown you what he thought of you. it simply wasn’t fair. if all he wanted was sex, you could have helped him find a hooker, hell, you would have payed for it, just to make things clearer for yourself.

simon’s shoulders raise and his chest expands with an uncharacteristically shaky breath. you look away after this, unwilling to admit that for all he’s caused, his pain is directly linked to yours, and seeing him in any kind of distress causes a physical response in you.

this is why you don’t notice when simon moves his hand from his knee to the railing of the bed. you only notice when you hear the his hand sliding across the fabric of the thin sheet that covers you. unwilling to investigate visually where this is going, you continue pretending the ceiling is more interesting than whatever the hell simon is doing.

your feigned boredom makes the surprise of simon resting his hand on yours all the more shocking. this must show on your face, because when you snap your head up to meet simon’s eyes, he seems a bit hesitant. despite this, he keeps his hand on yours, letting the unspoken question of wether this was ok hang thick in the air.

you nod and he nods back, curling your hand around to entwine your fingers with yours and starts rubbing his thumb back and forth across your knuckles.

he apologizes again. and says he knows you’re a good person. he knows you mean no harm, but he’s just afraid. he can’t help but think of how people who were supposed to love him treated him, and what happened to those who actually did. he knows this isn’t an excuse, but he needed to tell you. he needed to tell you that he misses you.

this is new. very new. you could never have dreamed of a conversation of this nature taking place with simon, and yet there you were

he tells you how much you mean to him, even if he doesn’t say it, and it’s not fair that you he can’t tell you.

there’s more silence, you don’t know if you could respond even if you tried

simon continues

he tells you he loves you

this obviously doesn’t fix everything, simon still has so much trouble believing your good intentions, but the difference now is that he’s trying

he decides that if he wants a real future with you he has to put in the work, so at your gentle suggestion, he asks price about his options for some therapy services he can get into contact with through the military (price choked on his own smoke)

you can still see simon trying to pull away sometimes but he warns you

when he comes back from a mission you hadn’t gone on for whatever reason, he will tell you if he had a particularly hard time. how he’s not feeling like himself at the moment and might need some space in the coming days.

he’s come to discover that this is much preferable to how he handles things before. you don’t get mad at him, you thank him with a comforting smile, telling him that you appreciate the fact that he told you and if he wants to talk about it you’ll be right here.

the nightmares are getting better too- well not the subject matter, but how he handles them

you’ll wipe the sweat from his brow after a nightmare and he tenses like he did when you thought it was over, but now he takes a few shuddering breaths before yanking you to him, arms wrapped around you in a vice grip and face shoved into the crook of your neck. he’s still tense, but not in the flight response you’re used to. breathes in your scent and mutters a gruff thank you as he tries to settle back into sleep. he hasn’t worked up the courage to tell what they’re about yet, but he takes comfort in the fact that you’ll be there for him if he needs.

he starts telling you things too.

simple things at first, like when he first read his favorite book. how his favorite color is dark blue because it reminds him of a blanket he had as a kid. you made some cookies for him one time, and he said he loved them, and told you about the last time he remembers having that sweet treat with his family.

most of it seems trivial, but such a huge step in the right direction it’s almost like he has been replaced by some imposter.

the culmination is when he takes you back to where he was raised. he walks you through the streets, hand in hand, and periodically stops to grab your attention. he will point out where he had his first job, his favorite restaurant that he only really liked because it was his moms favorite.

he is so much… more… now

the new best part of every day is when you and simon part ways for the day

as you go off to leave your practically shared room in the morning, simon always catches the you by the arm to bring you closer. he raises your hand to his lips, and closes his eyes, mumbling a quiet i love you against your skin

AHHHHHHHHHHHHH THIS IS SO LONG

requests are open!

#simon riley imagine #ghost cod #ghost x you #ghost x reader #simon riley x y/n #simon riley x reader #cod x y/n #cod x you #cod angst #ghost angst

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tommys-little-writing-corner · 5 months

Text

One Small Shadow: Chapter I

》 The youngest of Sindel's daughters, (Y/N) was only born after the passing of King Jerrod. Growing up shadowed by her family and their magics, the Third Princess does what she can do best. She stands by and waits... 》 Chapter I: Waiting... 》 General Notes: Fem!Reader, Complicated Family Relationships, Canon Divergence, Angst Train, No Beta We Ball Like Kobe, No Romance, Y/N is described to be feminine with certain features, Bounces between Y/N's POV and third person 》 Chapter Notes: The first few chapters of One Small Shadow take place before the start of the plot of Mortal Kombat 1. 》 Word Count: 600+ ▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂

(Y/N)'s P.O.V.

I hate looking at this damn mural.

It sits in the main hall where the thrones lay, always alight with candles. Sometimes by the bright flame of the sun or by the pale flame of the moon. It's a mural portrait of my mother, Empress Sandel, and my late father, Emperor Jerrod.

I never knew Jerrod, not in the way my Mother and sisters knew him. My mother was expecting me when he was killed. Nobody spared me any details, only that it was a great tragedy over a thousand years ago. Now his soul resides in the forest, along with all other members of royalty and more.

Many say I do hold some resemblance in him, a trait I share with my sisters. We have his dark eyes-- the way they seem to sparkle with a plan, with a mind game to taunt others. setting down stones to be stepped on. However, it would be my sisters who would have his smile, his dark hair and everything.

I would be the one, the youngest of three of about roughly a thousand years old in age, who would have my mother's white hair. Pale like marble stone, like the colorless stars in the sky. Unlike my family who kept their hair long, I kept mine short, barely touching the corner of my jaw below my ear. It was better to maintain hair that way, easier to hide it whenever I wanted life out of the palace. Another talk for later.

I hate how everyone around me doesn't understand how I feel every time I look at the painted mural.

"You should be mourning-- you have no father, as does your sisters do. As your mother doesn't have her husband anymore."

How was I to mourn someone I never knew?

I only knew his name, the painted faces that decorated this wall along all other walls. The stories of praise and glory from the Umgadi who remember him, who loved him well as does everyone else inside and outside the palace. However, only because I was born three months after his death, I would never know the man personally as did everyone else who once knew him.

Maybe a trip to the Living Forest, where his soul resides, I would get to know him. Maybe he would be willing to talk, to tell me tales of his life before death. No... I would not be able to go beyond the walls of Sun Do. The ones made by my ancestors many lifetimes ago. Mother doesn't like me wondering around, not without armed guards, without Umgadi, or even the likes of Reiko. Since losing Jerrod, she became paranoid about an unfortunate fate falling onto me as well.

Certainly, she truly thought things well. Despite magic running in my veins, in my family blood, I could conjure no magic. To her, I seemed defenseless without a means to defend myself. It was why she insisted me having to be monitored and protected at all times if it could be helped.

I hate looking at this damn mural.

"Princess, you're needed at the entrance. To meet with the Empress and your sisters."

The Umgadi guard reminded me, making me snap out of my reoccurring thoughts about the mural in front of me. My lips curled into a frown as I looked over my outfit one last time. Dark purple ceremonial robes that almost matched colors with red wine, shades darker than the purple Mother wore. A layered skirt-piece that touched my ankles over black tights, black longlseeve under a dark purple top. My hands and arms decorated with golden jewelry with pretty gems-- fitting for a royal princess, but not as flashy as my older sisters. Subtle, quiet, just like me.

"Right..." I responded with a flat tone, turning my head towards her and nodding. "... Let's get going."

▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂

TO THE KONTINUED...

#mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat 1 #mortal kombat 1 fanfiction #Fem!Reader #One Small Shadow #platonic reader #no romance #tommy's post #tommy’s writing

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damianbugs · 11 months

Note

would love to see u talk about the parallels in bruce’s dynamic with steph versus any of the other kids like emotionally and all that <3

i think the best way to start this is to highlight that stephanie and bruce's dynamic is quite literally "never meet your heroes" —

— and that bruce had the opportunity to truly take her under his wing and help her sharpen her skills while also teaching her why being a hero can be important to her personally without trying to be her father (which is the biggest difference between her and any of his other children).

it is also important to note that bruce did none of these things the way he should've.

in a meta reading, it was 100% misogynistic writing, ESPECIALLY her robin run. bruce, as the only grown up man in her life now that her father couldn't be used, was the person who was then used to bring her down at every possible chance. but in a storytelling perspective, i think bruce and stephanie's dynamic has many layers and is absolutely fascinating and incredibly tragic.

Batman: One Bad Day — Two Face

young stephanie watching batman fight her father, cluemaster.

batman meant something far more personal to stephanie than it did to anyone else. although characters like tim and damian had predispositions of what batman meant to people, or characters like jason and duke grew up with the idea of batman being normal in the places they grew up — to stephanie batman was genuinely just a hero.

another thing that really separates stephanie from bruce's other kids is that she is not his kid. bruce was never in a position to try and be her father, and that is not something she was actively seeking out either. to her, batman was always a hero who was kept at arms length. when they did form a more emotional relationship, it was still never familial in the same way the other kids eventually became to bruce.

this is not to say stephanie didn't become immensely important to bruce, but it was always different with her. this is why bruce could share things with stephanie in a way he couldn't with the others.

Robin #92

after a night of training/patrolling together, bruce and stephanie have a heart to heart conversation about the future of batman.

i know a very popular idea is that stephanie reminds bruce of jason, and that is why he was so hard on her, and while there is some truth in that i think there are a lot of moments that can give an entirely different impression;

and that is stephanie reminding bruce of himself.

there is no one who hates batman more than batman himself, as he is his biggest critic. bruce is startlingly self aware of his flaws and mistakes, but has accepted that he can't change them because it would mean putting gotham as risk.

Detective Comics 796

after a brief argument in which bruce heavily criticises stephanie, she asks if bruce is firing her. he responds "No, I'm teaching you."

it makes sense, in a terrible way, that bruce's own stubborn and headstrong desire to wear the cape to save people, to make sure their families don't end up like his did, is reflected in stephanie. this 'tough love' attitude which is more tough than love is nothing but bruce projecting his own desire to 'fix' his faults by doubling down on stephanie, in hope that maybe she'll turn out better than him.

whether or not stephanie is actually like bruce is an entirely separate conversation, but it doesn't change the fact that bruce ruined every opportunity to train stephanie in a way that didn't hurt her self esteem or confidence in being a hero.

but stephanie is one of the most emotionally strong characters. the inevitable tragedy and cruel ending to bruce and stephanie's mentor-student dynamic wasn't completely a loss, because she bounced back twice as skilled.

(and maybe that's just another thing bruce expected from her. to roll with the punches and keep standing back up.)

obviously there is a lot i haven't mentioned about their dynamic and how she was treated in general, and that's just glossing over the shitshow that was war games and her three month run as robin. but this is already way too long and i am not even on topic anymore.

tldr; stephanie and bruce truly were a wasted opportunity to showcase a deep and emotional bond as teacher and student, helping her find her role as a hero and bruce's chance as a mentor. despite it all, they care deeply about each other and stephanie deserved a better version of bruce.

i love them a lot. i wish dc would see the potential and treat them both with the respect they deserve and give their duo another chance. i think they can both teach each other very important lessons.

#bruce wayne #stephanie brown #my favourite duo ever they r so complicated and terrible for my mental health #also i dont think i actually answered ur ask my apologies friend #FUCK U BATMAN #okay sorry. the real enemy is (male) dc writers #dc meta #character study #saki asks

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ultragift · 4 months

Text

FROM: @vidra-comprehends

TO: @gayrhys

Two robots stare at the old paper. It has legible words on it and is more or less intact compared to the other pages lying around, which the two have already checked. Despite the halcyon weather, V1 keeps it pinned under its foot while V2 reads it out loud.

To my dearest friend!

My fingers are swiftly losing their mobility as I am writing you this letter. Forgive me if it is not very pretty.

While you are scorched by the Sun, I am to suffer its eternal absence. Those around me still moving are banding together, trying to find warmth in the others’ presence, but our bodies only radiate more coldness.

From time to time, the Lake’s ice carries to us the echoes of a great scream. It is terrible, but not at all terrifying. Still, should I venture too close to the middle, I would surely witness something unfit for a human soul. The only other sounds are the heavy steps of souls and the singing ice.

Even as the Greatest Cold overtakes me, I stand by my decision; letting you continue would have been an even greater sin. I hope you will find it in yourself to acknowledge why it was necessary as I will likely never again have the ability to think like a capable man, and so, I could not change my mind even if I wanted to.

With no remorse nor disdain left to warm me-

V2 looks up to see V1 already walking towards the edge of the frozen lake. "You read quickly." V1's rusty speech box spits out a few words. "REMAINING TEXT: IRRELEVANT.”

A strange sensation not unlike overheating registers to the red machine. How dares it? V2 wants to shake it by the shoulder and scream. His fury overpowers his common sense as he takes a few quick steps towards the blue machine, who - in the meantime - has started stomping on the thin ice by the shore.

"Irrelevant? What is wrong with you?! What is wrong with you in general?!"

A quick shot of its revolver makes him freeze in place. He is not at all sure that V1 missed on purpose. His steps are very careful as he catches up to it, but his voice is still full of anger. And condescendence. "You don't get to say that. They matter so much. Do you hear me? They matter! This letter meant something to someone. Hey, are you listening?"

V1 seems to be more invested in the chunks of ice it managed to free.

"Seriously, even after everything we've witnessed on our way down here...? Don't you see? There is so much harm...or there used to be so much harm in the world. No. There still is. These souls are suffering. And the best we could do was k-" An inexplicable error in the speech software. V2 doesn't start again, but he is unable to take the pain out of his voice. "We were built to protect them, you know."

V1 finally looks up, but it simply points a cold finger at V2. Of course. He was built to protect.

"Why did you repair me?" It was built to kill.

The V models are incapable of shrugging, but V1 does something similar enough. "DAMAGED." "Hm? What do you mean?"

V1 is clearly not comfortable speaking, but V2 has to know. He has to know the truth if they are going to end here. Or at least one of them will. This layer welcomed those who were willing to go to any lengths for a little personal victory. "REPAIR PROTOCOL. FAILED TO...SEPARATE."

V2 thinks for a few seconds. "Did you believe you were repairing yourself?" This wins him a thumbs up.

It was like tying a tie on someone else for the first time. The blue machine knew how to work on itself, but when the protocol kicked in under the pyramid in Greed, it found that the body is seen from an irregular angle. In the end, V1 resorted to holding the other machine to its chest to be able to work properly.

"But you know now that I'm not you, right?" Another thumbs up. V2 doesn't force the conversation further. He focuses on the ice instead. The written pages scattered all over the area don’t stop at the shore, partly or fully frozen like semi-aquatic plants during a harsh winter. The hole V1 made is rapidly freezing up, but something is still clearly visible at the bottom.

“Did you have a chance to see what that is?” Instead of an answer, V1 gives the fresh ice a good kick, splashing water all over the place.

“Hey, watch out! This can damage both of us! Especially your absorbent plating. It would be smarter to- What is that? Is that a fishing rod?! Where the Hell did you get that?” Its hands occupied, V1 nods. “What?!”

The thing they saw at the bottom is soon reeled to the surface. It is a book. Unfortunately, it immediately freezes as it is removed from the water; there’s no chance of opening it without destroying the paper. V1 doesn’t seem satisfied until it brings up half a dozen books, all acting the same way. It doesn’t give V2 much time to consider any implications or greater meaning the scene might have, heading deeper towards the middle.

“We should prepare for that fight thoroughly,” V2 warns. His predecessor doesn’t react. Its steps are light and it gently swings the fishing rod from side to side as it walks. Not for the first time today, V2 feels very lost. “If you’re not going to fight... What are you even looking for?”

Speech has never been so easy for V1 as it is in this moment. “FISH.”

#ultragift 2023 #ultragifts

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sass-squat · 1 year

Note

Do the Avians stick to their main outfits or do they mix it up? What are their cozy/relaxing clothes?

Excellent question my friend! I would say that for the most part all the Links generally just stick to their usual outfits. This is mainly because the chain is almost always traveling/on the road and their "canon" outfits are much more suited for adventuring then any other alternatives. However, their "everyday" clothes have been modified to have slits in the back to allow for their wings to slip through while still not compromising the integrity of their armor/chainmail underneath. In other words, there aren't really any major changes to their main outfits aside from having thin holes in the back to make room for their wings.

As for the Links cozy/relaxing clothes? They all have their own interpretations of what cozy or relaxing means for them, so I'm just going to group them into 3 general categories that I think they would be in.

Shirtless Gang:

Time - Listen, Time walks around in a suit of armor all the time so pretty much anything else could be considered cozy/relaxing clothes compared to that.🤣 But this man has some MASSIVE wings so I believe that he enjoys clothes that give him the chance to free them and let them breathe easier. Because of this, I would say his standard for "comfortable" would probably either be just a loose tunic or just some regular pants and no shirt.

Twilight - Like Time, this man works on a ranch and likes to wrestle Gorons for fun. Because of this, and definitely not because I'm a simp I believe he's very accustomed to working shirtless and so his definition of "cozy" clothes is honestly just sitting around shirtless in some comfy pants.

Warriors - I don't even have a proper justification for why I believe this man walks around shirtless I just feel it in my soul. He's a very very pretty man and I'm selfish and a simp and I want to see him shirtless. But in all seriousness, Warriors wears a LOT of layers all the time so I just want him to be able to take some off and relax a little bit.

Sweatpants/Pajamas Squad:

Sky - Look me in the eye and tell me that this man wouldn't wear cozy clothes like pajamas and the Zelda equivalent of a hoodie and sweatpants. Sky just gives off such warm, SUNny (pun intended) vibes and I believe he deserves cozy clothes that match that same energy.

Hyrule - This boy deserves all the love in the world and if I could give him the equivalent of a snuggie hoodie I would. Plus I can just 100% see him doing that thing where he forces Legend or Wind or just another member of the chain to share the same hoodie with him.🤣 He is basically the walking equivalent of the, "Get Along Shirt" meme and I will die on this hill.

Wind - There's literally an option in Wind Waker for him to be able to go through his entire adventure in basically his pajamas and for that reason I believe his cozy clothes are just a casual long sleeved shirt and pants. He also just seems like the kind of guy that can and would kill a grown man while in his pajamas and I love that for him.

Shorts/Tanktop Team:

Legend - Legend gives off baggy shirt and shorts vibes. I know he doesn't wear pants but listen...shorts don't count as pants. Give this boy his t-shirt and boxers combination please.

Wild - Wild could honestly fit in any one of these categories because he seems pretty easy to please when it comes to clothing. However, when it comes to relaxing I believe he prefers a casual tanktop and shorts combination because it allows his wings and feathers to breathe while still covering some of his many scars.

Four - Listen, Four is a pretty practical kind of guy so I think he really appreciates the mobility and freedom that a simple tanktop and shorts provide. Plus, I feel like whenever he has the chance he likes to run and crawl around talking to the Minish/Picori and shorts and a tanktop aren't as easy to get grass stains on.

Anyways I hope this answered your questions friend! As always, these are my personal interpretations but feel free to tell me what ideas you have for all the boys! Thank you again for you question!

#winged au #LUWAU #linkeduniverse #linked universe #legend of zelda #loz #loz link #lu time #lu twilight #lu sky #lu warriors #lu legend #lu hyrule #lu wild #lu four #lu wind #One eternity later and I'm finally responding to this #But in all seriousness this was such a cute fluffy question and now I have the urge to draw the boys being all soft

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gepperl · 6 months

Text

TRANS MALE PASSING PROTIPS

Targeted specifically at trans men who have not begun medical transition, but for anyone. Of course, this is just what works for me and everyone is different.

Shorts that fall mid thigh and are baggy can work really well to make a more masculine figure. This is a trendy style with cis men, and if they are looser on your thighs you can look more rectangular. Basketball shorts are always fine, but for bigger people can end up sticking to your thighs and making you look like a masc lesbian. Looking like a masc lesbian is so so common guys this is what we are trying to avoid. See here for reference

2. WALK WITH YOUR SHOULDERS. Walk like your shoulders are the widest part of your body. Move them kinda forward and backward. Watch a video of a man walking next to a woman for context on what I mean. Women walk with their hips, and it makes all the difference for you in someone's head. Practice in the mirror before doing it so you don't look like a fool.

3. Hair!!!! I know you guys don't want to let go of the 2020 fluffy boi haircut and that is ok. If you don't want a skin fade short haircut, there are other options. Also, if you belong to a subculture, like punk/emo/whatever else there is, look at male styles as it can be very different than what is normally accepted ( for example, men have long hair in metal subculture, you can style it like them). In general, hair is very meticulous, as for some people too short is masc lesbian and too long is woman.

This kind of hair can do wonders. For men of color/curly hair people, if you are not out locs are a very good option as they are typically read as masculine but are gender neutral. Afros, braids, even skin fades with a lot of hair at the top can read feminine. Another style option could be short cornrows that end at the neck, twists, or a fade with less hair at the top like this.

I am not black, so I cannot speak for how this would be read in a black community, but this is how, from my experience, I would view the hairstyles. Sorry if this is not appropriate. Also, I am not here to tell you not to dye your hair. It can work if you style it with masculine clothes and are dressed in a specific style like emo or scene or something. Do what you will with that.

4. If there is ANY peach fuzz on your face, make the most of it. I know I have high testosterone levels naturally, so I grow facial hair a little, but if there is enough to dye it, dye it. If there is like barely any, if its not visible in the mirror if you're really looking (not INSPECTING), it's probably not worth it, and that is fine. use your judgement, and if it is not enough, just shave it. It's better to look clean shaven than desperate for face hair. Eyebrows, mustache hair, sideburns can all be darkened with eyeshadow, brow brushes, and just for men beard dye.

5. LAYERS. I know you guys have seen this one before. Flannels, button ups over black t-shirts, zip up hoodies. It might get a little hot, but it covers your sweat stains anyways. I promise guys it helps so much with shoulders, hips, boobs, it makes you look more masculine. Don't get that ugly ass red and black checkered one though. Think if you would see a masc lesbian wearing it and use your best judgement. I heart layers.

6. Pants. Woah. Pants. I HATE pants I know you fat trans men get me. Old navy women's jeans...and you guys won't like this one...are actually pretty good. SPECIFICALLY the sky high wide leg ones. Get those a size up and cuff them, wear them low on your waist, perfect. Other than that, jeans are shit. I don't really waste my time with men's pants anymore because of my hips but cargos are great, baggy sweats with the band at the bottom are great, PJ pants good, dress pants are a struggle but I've heard dickies work well for people with a smaller body. Not sure though. My tactic is I go to a thrift store for hours and try on all their pants, then find similar ones online or take pictures of the brand for the ones I like and find more.

7. Accessories and jewelry. Iffy. Anything you could describe as dainty, if it's not a family thing or important to you, probably not. Friendship bracelets are good, pendants are good, earrings depends on where you are and what you are wearing. Studs in men are common where I am, so I wear them. Observe the cis men at your disposal. Accessories, bags don't really matter unless they're like the strawberry hot topic mini bags. Don't get those at all those are fugly. Mini bags are not great in general, just better to get something else. Watches are heavily loved here they look very male and also you have the time always even a cheap watch is fine just not a woman's watch. It has to be a men's watch. You can tell when it is a woman's watch don't get those. Nail polish is fine no one cares, it's more popular now with boys. Especially if you're a little girly pop already. Of course that also depends on your environment.

8. Stance. Sitting with your ankle on your knee is comfortable and way more masculine than crossing your legs. Confidence. Fake it until you make it because cis men are so arrogant guys. This is what I mean btw

9. Don't be afraid of being feminine. Don't give up being yourself in order to be masculine. Your happiness matters the most. Love you bye, I'll update this if I think of anything else.

#transgender #lgbtq #lgbtq community #lgbtqia #trans rights #queer #ftm #passing #body positive #transisbeautiful #gender stuff #trans stuff #gender identity

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thefangirlofhp · 6 months

Text

23. trinket

“Don’t be a stranger,” Azriel invites her, and Elain swallows the thought that she is a stranger to her own skin but makes up her mind and reaches for the tea-cup and tries not to flinch when her grasp accidentally snaps it cleanly in large pieces. She swallows her apologies, too, as she takes the pieces out from her palm and watches the ruby red blood slow to a halt and when she wipes it, there’s not a mark left behind. She also swallows the notion that this body leaves no marks, designed as an impeachable armor that leaves no traces of the person it shelters.

“Here,” Azriel places a new cup in her saucer as she wipes the piping hot tea off her hand and Elain’s eyes catch on his marked hands. Gruesome, and painful. Somehow she cannot find it in her to be revolted or afraid of this tapestry. He pours another cup of tea, while Elain aligns the broken shards before her.

“Where can I find anything to glue it?” Elain pipes up, quiet and subtle as a drowsy stream. Azriel looks at her over his reports for a moment, before the shadow of her teacup expands and a small vial materializes from it. Elain stares, and then some more when a brush follows. But she picks it up, unscrews the cork in the vial and dips the brush in and slides it along the smooth porcelain edge of the base piece and something in her sight sharpens. A little. Elain layers a generous amount before topping a second piece and holding it in place for a while. Takes her time and slides the pad of her finger along the excess along the seams and waits. She is patient, someone had to be if they were to plant blooming gardens.

She was a gardner. The memory rushes to her like a wave, overpowers her senses until it is the only thought she has. She blinks, looks around her more closely, realizes they’re sitting in the garden back of the house, and the smell of green grass tickles a thought in her consciousness the way the blades would tickle one’s nose.

Elain puts the third piece, holds it down but gentle enough to not break apart the stack and the weak bond between glue and porcelain and wonders if it’s not acceptable and sensible that a third party be present when things, people and hearts, are shattered. That somehow, glue was necessary to make what was broken whole again. Three is balance; the middle man who upheld peace. Elain was that person, between her family. Perhaps it is pivotal that a third party come between them now, friendly strangers, to mend what has been shattered for a while now.

She places the miscellaneous pieces in place, pushing their more delicate jagged edges with the tip of her brush and coating a careful layer of glue over them. Puts the brush down and waits, stares at the mosaic of disrupted patterns and broken flower prints and thinks how that surely means something, how it pictures some thought she cannot articulate. Feyre’s tendency to paint and canvas make more inherent sense, then. Feyre is a painter. This particular thought knocks a haze in her mind. Her sister has a passion for paint and beauty.

Elain glances at the quietly reading winged man before her, reclining in his seat and stretching his wings to catch the sun. Elain thinks his armor is a needless touch of fright, and if she wasn’t more terrified of whatever lurks beneath the mended skin over her bones then Elain might have trembled in fear at the sight of his scaled armor, his darkness and the scar tissue marking him for eternity. She did, once. She remembers this now.

“I’ve never seen someone make such an effort,” comes the light comment from behind a hand clutching papers. “Mending something.”

Elain blinks, traces her sticky index along the jagged rim of the mended cup. She supposes it is a futile attempt; it is not possible to use the cup for its original purpose anymore. But she could not shake the urge; poverty raised a curtain of blindness from one’s eyes. It was a habit, to mend a torn sleeve or patch a stubborn hole, to make hair bands and ribbons of useless cloth.

“I don’t think you would have,” Elain comments back. “Your bodies mend themselves in seconds. Attention and care are not in your evolution.”

The hand lowers, and his hazel eyes regard her with growing realization. “No. Now that you mention it, no they are not.”

Elain keeps the mended teacup to herself, sets it on her vanity and when she’s found the strength in her spine and legs to leave her bed months after Father’s death, she fills it with water and floats jasmine flowers in it. One day she wanders in Feyre’s art-studio, and a paint bottle of gold catches her attention which she borrows, and spends the night carefully tracing over the cup’s fractures and glue, highlighting all its faults and subsequently declaring it the most beautiful of her possessions. She displays it in the crystal cabinet Feyre buys when they move into the riverfront estate, next to their priceless gems and collections. Elain’s fractured trinket.

#elain archeron #acowar fic #that one moment in the garden #azriel #kintsugi #repairing broken pottery with gold because flaws make something interesting

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ivanzplaid · 2 years

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Hey so it’s dysphoria hours rn and I’m hating it. A lot of the dysphoria is for the dumbest things but whatever. Can I get some head cannons for Billy Lenz, The Grabber (obviously), Candyman, Otis Driftwood and Lawrence Gordon (if it’s not too much) helping a trans masc reader with dysphoria? Thank you as always ❤️

-📼

hi!! im so sorry about that, and of course i can, i know how awful things can be so id be happy to do that for you🫶 i hope things start to get better, but in the mean time im here for you cassette anon <3

requests are open, masterlist is up :)

Slashers x Dysphoric Transmasc Reader

Warnings: Possessive Behaviors, Fluff, Mentions of Murder

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The Grabber

when he sees you sulking around, not as much energy as before, and hiding yourself even when hes not there, he becomes immediately concerned, rushing to you and sitting down with you to see whats wrong and how he can make it better

as we know, hes a great listener, hes interactive and shows you hes listening, nodding his head and letting out a few words while you think through what to say

he will want to hold you in some way or another, maybe your shoulder or having you in his arms, but if you arent feeling that he will back off with a slightly surprised "oh" from under his breath

is more than happy to sit down with you and talk, he wants to learn more about you and how he can love you better, he just wants you to love him back so he would do whatever he needs

after you tell him, he wants to be as accommodating as he could be, may come off a little corny but it shows hes supportive

he gladly gives you his sweaters and cardigans if you want extra layers, and will have you exchange your ( most likely dirty ) shirt for his, he knows not to overstep his boundaries if youre dysphoric, so he'll let you upstairs to his room and let you be while you pick out something that will leave you most comfortable

he praises you a lot, says whatever he thinks will leave you feeling the best, telling you youre his 'good boy' or his gorgeous boyfriend, he wants you to feel affirmed and loved, but of course he puts 'my' infront of most affirmations, he likes to show possessiveness even in comfort

this gives him more reasons to be around you, the more he comforts you the more his ego is boosted, he loved to be your source of self fulfillment, but its his nature afterall

makes meals that hold more testosterone in them, he wont tell you, but its his little secret that he holds

will establish compliments even more into your relationship, he tries to be subtle about it thr best he possibly could be

if you didnt have a binder on you, or didnt have one in general, hes more than compliant to be on the lookout for some, or take a trip to acquire one, it wont be the highest quality due to it being the 70s, but it will work

im so sure this man has weights he never uses, they most likely have dust on them, so if youre the type of person who likes to work out and feels better after doing it, theyre all yours, hes happy to join you

overall 9.9/10, he just wants you happy and loved in your shared home, he may have taken you but he makes sure that you feel cared for in his own albert way🫶

"Do you- do you have any sweaters i could use, I just need another layer."

"Of course I do, my closet is your closet love!"

Billy Lenz

billy is special, he truly doesnt mind that youre trans, he saw you as a guy when he first laid eyes on you, so when you tell him youre trans he needs it simplified, and after that he goes on with life, you arent leaving him & you arent injured, so he loves you all the same

he picks up on how you act quickly, he memorizes your personality like its his own, his way of showing affection almost

when he sees a change in your usual attitude and behavior, hes curious & he cant hide it, he may be smothering in his attempts to see whats wrong, being in your presence a lot or in your face, of course with a concerned tone to him

"Billy notice Piggy's upset, why!"

what a caring man

maybe overbearing, but he wants to know whats up so he can care for you, solve and try to ease whatever youre feeling

when you do tell him, or explain what and how dysphoria is affecting you, hes going to be on high alert for a few moments, as far as he knows youre hurting because of something you cant control and hes nervous

will hop into your arms and most likely knock you over onto his mattress to secure you in his arms

he has the instincts to comfort you so he will do just that

will cradle you and talk to you in a rambled hushed voice, saying what seems like nonsense at 60 mph

once you assure him that you arent in immediate danger he will lighten up, but he sticks around you entirely, comforting you in a hushed voice and asking repeatedly if youre ok

when he kills his victims he raids their closet for you, seeing if there may be anything youd wear to make you feel more comfortable

billy will constantly refer to you as handsome and cute, leaving kisses on your face to remind you he loves you

when you sit and talk to him about it he is antsy, twitching a bit but trying to contain his natural energetic self to fully get what youre saying, he will ask you if he can make you feel better or what he can do for you, he is ready to be at your service to aid you

nurse billy my love

overall 8/10, billy is caring, maybe a but overboard but it shows how much love he has for you and how far hes willing to go, hes grateful for you so he wants you to know it <3

"Billy got this for Piggy, does Piggy like it?"

Candyman

given his past, he doesnt discriminate and is a curious man, hes willing to learn about you, for you

hes always been for this, but offers to turn you immortal, he believes it could solve most problems because after youre immortal, your image is what you want it to be, spending time with your boyfriend in a perfect image that reflects you, he sees the beauty of eternity

of course the offer stands open for your convenience and his eternal love for you, but besides that, he is a compassionate and blessed listener

he may initiate this conversation, he can sense that youre distressed, he has the ability to have a healthy relationship, its one of his qualities, he wants to talk it out and be reasonable and hear what is making you feel that way

once you describe it to him hes understanding, he embraces you for a hug, assuring you that he gets what you said snd he realizes the feelings

is the most supportive man in a healthy way, he calls you his dear boyfriend and is very protective of your image, not being afraid to slice somebody or send bees their way if they say anything out of line

he makes it known that youre his boyfriend, you arent anything short of that, he affirms that you know this

torturing somebody in your name because they said something negative about you is all game, he doesnt hold back

he wraps you in his coat and stays in bed with you if you need comfort, holding you close to him as you let it out

does go out of his way to search for things that may help, foods, clothing, etc.

he wants you to feel comfortable when youre with him, and he will accommodate to whatever he sees fit

if you even talk about clothes youd been wanting, its yours, its for the greater food afterall, and its not like he would have to pay for it

overall 11/10, a lovely comforter and relationship guy, he knows how to please you, but still wants to hear from you, believes that both voices should be heard if something happens, and he absolutely adores you, so of course he would do everything for you

"Immortal life can fulfill one's needs in a snap, I can deliver a power you didn't know you were craving, in the name of us."

"A divine figure as yourself shouldn't be taken aback by unwanted feelings, I feel sorrow that you do."

Otis Driftwood

i love that you picked him as well i have to mention, so perfect

you may not know it at first, but he studies you quite a bit, analyzing you & seeing what youre about, so he suspects somethings wrong when you arent yourself

of course youd told him your trans before, and as we know the firefly household holds no room for bigoted ideals, so youre just as loved as anyone else, no need to worry for that

as stated before, otis has a keen eye, especially for his love, so when youre sitting in bed most days or not using your voice, hes concerned, he wants to know whats taken the light away from his sunshine

"Listen darlin', anything you wanna say? You're acting like somebody gutted ya,"

odd way of confronting you but he needs to know whats making you so down, it makes him itchy and irrational when his boyfriend is acting abnormal

he may feel guilty, like he should know what youre thinking and feeling, so a conversation is needed on both ends

explaining to him could take two minutes or two hours, all depends on how in depth it becomes

will ask you what he could do to help, he makes mental notes that he may or may not forget, he listens to you but he may seem distracted as thoughts are moving through his mind rapidly

he does what you ask of him, itll be spaced out since he may be busy, but he would happily set aside his work for you

one thing he may request is that you be in his work, a painting or sculpture depicting you or something he thinks of when he thinks of you, they can be abstract or direct, but he frames you in the light you wished to be put it

is a very firm & possessive lover, if 'company' is over and they slip up or make a move, he has nothing holding him back from strangling them then and there, he lets it be known that rude behavior or snarky comments at you are off limits, hes not afraid to enforce it

will think you look amazing in his clothes, may even give you them to wear in the first place because he admires the way you look in them

can be soft for you when needed, if you need a shoulder to cry on, hes in the privacy of you two's room in seconds to assist, and if you need affirmations, hes got a hundred for you now and a hundred for you later

overall 9.9/10, we know and love otis here, his boyfriend meter may be interesting but he lets it be known youre his boyfriend and that only, doesnt take kindly to anything else & if youre doubting yourself, he calls bullshit, complimenting you immediately

"Well fuck, why don't you put my clothes on more often? You're smokin'!"

Lawrence Gordon

another reason i love this man, hes a doctor🫶

he knew previously you were trans, coming out to him mayve been scary, but he loves you all the same, and has a decent amount of information hes learned about trans people from med school, he doesnt care, hes glad you were comfortable enough to tell him

hes a busy man, so the time you two share he submerges himself in, but when you begin to act out of character & seem confined to yourself, he does question if its dysphoria, but wants to hear what you have to say

as soon as you tell him its your dysphoria hes understanding, having you explain in detail how youre feeling and its like experiencing it, a primary source telling him how it is may help him comfort you better

he holds you in his lap, massaging your shoulders as you talk it out, sharing the moment

lightly puts his head on your shoulder if youd prefer silence over verbal comfort, he knows that you know what you want best, and if its silence or talking, no contact or physical affection, he listens and respects you, youre his precious, his prestigious grace that hes blessed with

while hes out and sees a stuffed animal or item that he think would help he gets it, to have you as his is a gracious thing, he wants you to know it as well

doctor alert again, and since i believe hes a great cook, he makes foods that will help boost your testosterone while still making it delicious

he follows whatever you say will help, if you need more layers hes searching through his closet to determine what youd look best in, if you want to hear affirming words youve went to the right man, he has a way of depicting you as ravishing as possible, he truly worships your figure and is not afraid to tell you every little thing he loves about you in a 'matter of fact' tone

money is never a problem, see a binder youd like snd its yours, a packer for extra comfort? its bring delivered

from his house in saw 2004 & the fact hes a doctor, i assume he lives comfortably, savings is jacked up and so is his extra spending money, so after he emotionally comforts you, he questions if youve ever thought of hrt or too surgery, it wouldn't be hurting his pocket to make your life easier to live by

overall 10/10, his best is just amazing and i couldnt possibly tell you how much more i love this man, hes so perfect and i want to just hold him forever smh

"Don't you look charming tonight, huh handsome?"

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i got to this a bit later but ty for sending in another request, i love hearing from you and i hope your dysphoria starts to ease up, i know it sucks :(

requests are open, masterlist is up!

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starry-blue-echoes · 1 year

Text

no way me? actually finishing a snippet for once? the world must be ending

but also no joke I've had this in my WIPs since mid October and I'm SO happy it's finally done :>

It's been a while since I did anything with the Vampric Joot In Italy With Vampiric Giorno, so how about we change that :)

(also, sorta? warning for implied vomiting. It's not graphic but the implications are there)

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Abbacchio didn’t trust the new guys. Didn’t like them either.

Now, this came to the surprise of literally nobody, including himself. He didn’t like people in general, simple as that.

(Well. Except for Bruno. But he was a literal angel among men and only an idiot wouldn’t like him. At the very least he could agree upon that with the kids.)

But this was different. The newbies were….. weird.

Giorno was a blonde little brat who looked like he hadn’t struggled a day in his life. He was too…… perfect looking, not a single blemish to be seen or hair out of place. No matter where you looked, and believe me Abbacchio had looked hard, there wasn’t a flaw to be found. He always moved with a stupid amount of poise and grace, footsteps quiet like a cat’s and never once looking caught off guard. And the kid wasn’t just a pretty face either, he was smart. He noticed things, small little things that usually only Abbacchio noticed. The kid knew about Abbacchio’s distaste. He definitely knew about the tea. But instead of getting pissy or tattling on Bucciarati, he stayed quiet.

On top of pissing him off, all of it was just plain freaky.

And Jotaro…..

Well. Where to even start with the bastard.

Under normal circumstances, Abbacchio would’ve had begrudging respect for him. He made it clear he wasn’t interested in any of them, but didn’t take any bullshit. He was built like a fucking truck, taller than even Abbacchio was, but he wasn’t a meathead and actually had some braincells. He was admittedly similar to Giorno when it came to brains and noticing things, but he was different in his execution. Blunter for one thing, not even bothering with any pretty words or manipulations. He gave the hard straight facts without any bullshit.

Unfortunately for him, any and all possible respect was thrown out the window because of his stupid fucking outfit.

He’d heard his explanation along with the rest of them when Narancia got nosey and asked. The simple “I’m allergic to the sun” without any elaboration.

And Abbacchio was calling bullshit.

That guy was wrapped up in so many layers that you couldn’t see a spot of skin anywhere. If the sun really was that dangerous for the man then why the hell had he joined the mafia? Abbacchio’s closet could attest to the fact that this line of work went though more clothes than the average person would want to deal with, from bullet holes to knife wounds to whatever the fuck could happen in a Stand Fight.

Unless Jotaro had a complete and total disregard for his life, it didn’t hold up. People only covered up that much when they didn’t want to be recognized and had absolutely no shot at a disguise.

Hence Abbacchio’s current plan.

Jotaro was currently gone with Narancia to grab groceries and wouldn’t be back for another hour. Fugo refused to leave the patio and was waiting for them to come back. Mista was doing a perimeter sweep outside. Bruno and Giorno were talking in the living room. Trish had holed herself up in her room.

Meaning no one was around to see him using Moody to get some answers.

Jotaro had also very conveniently gone upstairs before he’d gone to leave with Narancia, and the stairs themselves were quite loud. Only Trish was up there in her room, so Abbacchio didn’t even have to run the risk of someone sneaking up on him and asking questions (lord knows Bruno wouldn’t be happy if he ever found out). Now, he wasn’t quite sure where upstairs Jotaro had gone, but he could simply follow Moody, so easy fix.

Moody Blues slowly peeled off of him and stood, the digital clock on its head gradually ticking up until it slowed to a stop at around 23 minutes and 56 seconds.

“Let’s see what you’re hiding beneath that coat.” he muttered to himself, eyes narrowing as Moody slowly shifted. It took barely a second before it changed, and soon enough Jotaro was standing right in front of him on the stairs.

“Play,” he commanded.

The copy took a few slow, expected steps up the stairs.

And then just as he left the view of the main room.

He vanished.

Suddenly and abruptly, Jotaro was gone. He didn’t seem to be hit by anything, he didn’t even fade or fizzle out. Just one moment he was there and the next he was gone and Moody reverted back to its usual form.

For a moment Abbacchio had thought that something was wrong with Moody. He rewinded the Stand briefly…. but the exact thing happened again.

What the fuck.

Okay, wait, think about this logically. It obviously wasn’t an attack or anything the man thought was dangerous, meaning Jotaro was likely the one responsible. Abbacchio still didn’t know what his Stand could do, none of them did, but whatever it was it was fucking fast. Much faster than a human. First there was how he managed to get to the docks before they had, then there was catching Zucchero on the boat. Who’s to say he didn’t use it to move. Based on how he’d only been upstairs for a few minutes, he likely hadn’t gone that far.

He felt out with Moody, feeling for the echoes of people who had walked these halls. No one had been here very recently thank god, but it still took a moment until-

There.

Behind one of the doors. Not Trish’s thankfully, that would’ve been awkward, but instead the door next to it.

Abbacchio easily closed the distance, walking up the last few remaining stairs and down the hall, and behind the door was……

The bathroom.

Moody quickly zipped over to where Jotaro had been by the toilet, and for a brief second Abbacchio was ready to skip over it……

But the man was hunched over it.

The layers of cloth were peeled away from his face but his hunched over frame prevented Abbacchio from getting a clear look.

But even without seeing his face, it was obvious he was sick.

Okay…… definitely not what he expected. The man hadn’t shown any signs of being sick earlier, so that either meant the apparent nausea had been very sudden or the guy was really good at hiding it.

Abbacchio sped up the replay. Even with the fast forward, it took a few seconds before Jotaro finally stood up, flushing the toilet as he did so. He made his way over to the sink and-

“Pause.” he commanded his Stand.

-and Abbacchio couldn’t help but stare.

He looked… okay this was going to sound crazy, but he didn’t look that human.

The features were…. wrong. He had two eyes, a nose, mouth, all the features that most people had but at the same time it was off. Like the strangeness of Giorno cranked up to an 11. His eyes were a blue almost as vibrant as the sky and sea itself, but around the pupils (which were too sharp too long not right) they were crackled with bits of red like shattered glass. And his skin, it was horrifyingly pale, almost looking translucent in some places. Abbacchio could practically count the veins and-

And now that he was looking at his face, he noticed Jotaro looked…. boney. His eyes were gaunt and his cheeks were hollow, the latter only being accentuated further by his sharp cheekbones.

Definitely way too boney to be losing meals like that.

There was also a strange…… youthfulness to his appearance. From the way he spoke and acted Abbacchio had assumed he was in his late 20s, maybe early 30s, but under the face mask he looked……. young, sorta. Sure the gaunt features and sheer exhaustion made him look older but if you were to fill him out a bit more…….

He looked like a teenager.

And that made a little, minuscule piece of Abbacchio squirm a bit. He was an asshole but…… nobody, especially not a kid (if Jotaro even was one), deserved to look like that.

During his time on the force he’d seen a few cases that still kept him up at night. And some of those cases had involved kids who were far too skinny and quiet with eyes that should’ve been bright holding nothing but a look no child should ever have.

And whil Jotaro wasn’t anywhere near their ages, the look in his eyes was pretty similar.

There was a muted pain in those blue orbs. A tenseness in his face, a heaviness in his shoulders, slight indents in his lips that spoke of having gnawed on them far too many times but lacking any scars.

But it looked so…… normal to the man. A whispered “play” sent Moody back into motion and he was just…… casual. His movements were easy and practiced, and not once did his expression shift.

This was frankly none of his business. He’d done this to figure out Jotaro’s identity and any possible threats, not analyze him for any…… whatever the hell this was.

So why did Abbacchio feel like he accidentally stumbled upon a rabbit hole far deeper than he first anticipated.

#is this my favorite piece of writing? no. however I finally got it finished so dammit if I'm not proud I got it done #jotaro in italy #vampiric jotaro #vampiric giorno #jjba #jojo’s bizarre adventure #golden wind #jjba part 5 #jjba abbacchio #leone abbacchio #moody blues #jjba jotaro #jotaro kujo #jjba giorno #giorno giovanna #bucci gang #sb writes

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