#He is stunning with this hairstyle and make up

[lettersofalover]

-> adore you | paige b

paige x black!fem!college!athlete reader

genre: fluff

authors note: she’s for the girls and yall go together. read bad

from the moment you woke up in your hotel room next to paige until now, about to step on to the espy’s red carpet, you were anxious. you were a famous athlete in your own regard but the spotlight had never quite been on you the way it was now - helping team usa win gold, setting a personal record and a uconn record, all while being in a loving private relationship with paige. everyone knew but nobody told. the athletes at uconn had each others backs and without a doubt, paige had yours. she popped candy into her mouth mindlessly as you got your hair and makeup done in the chair. “when you get on stage, not if but when,” she said matter of factly, “there’s going to be a countdown. don’t pay it any mind. just say what you want. literally, whatever. except curse words, they’ll fine conn for that.”

you couldn’t help having paige’s voice echo through your head, somehow drowning out the noise of the photographers. it was already a sunny day in california and the size of lights made you struggle to keep your eyes open. paige was coming behind you and suddenly all the photographers focus was on the both of you. the speculation had always been there, but there wasn’t any concrete proof. paige shot you a big smile and an awkward thumbs up and you covered your mouth to laugh. the shouts of the photographers were so deafening you couldn’t make out what they were saying until paige approached you and locked her fingers with yours: “they want us to take photos together.” she whispered in your ear before dropping your hand. the moment her hand left yours, the comfort was lost.

“just focus on something in the distance.” she whispered and wrapped an arm around you gingerly. you leaned into her touch, thankful to have her by your side. the contrast of your outfits made for a subtle declaration of your relationship. as the moments passed of you switching between a wide smile and a soft one, paige stopped the photographers for a moment and stood in front of you.

“what?” you mumbled, scared that you had done something wrong. did you look too cozy? was it obvious that you were dating? you were beginning to breath harder as paige reached up to fix your hair.

“wait let me fix your hair.” she mumbled, with her eyes focused on your delicately designed hairstyle. she was taking the job of fixing you so seriously that she had her tongue slightly out of her mouth in the process. “i think i got it,” she said turning away but immediately turned back, “one last thing, hold on.” she smiled and twirled of on the curls around her finger and it immediately came back to life.

“good?” you asked and the flutter of lights and the shutters of cameras began again. paige grasped your forearms and nodded.

“you look stunning.” she said loud and proud before facing the photographers once more.

—

they didn’t sit you with paige and it depleted your spirit. you kept calm conversation with the people surrounding you - a few athletes, an executive board member from uconn and other old men who were keen on getting you to explain your tennis career and why you hadn’t gone professional yet.

“i love uconn, my family is there, my team is there, even my girl- my best friend is there.” you corrected yourself. they all nodded in understanding but one of the more assertive man said, “you know college is always there. you should go while you’re still in your prime. you can get the money and find a nice husband while you do so.” he sipped his champagne with a smile that was confident - as if he gave you the most precious bit of information to skyrocket your career.

“i didn’t come to school to get my mrs. degree.” your voice was laced with snark. men like him wanted nothing but money as their main objective. it was never about the passion. as if she could sense the solemn energy radiating off of you, paige walked to the table and began introducing herself. they fawned over her for a few minutes and you were able to still your beating heart for a few moments. once paige spoke them all, she made it to you and dropped onto the balls of her feet next to your chair.

“you’re up next, yeah?” she said, her glimmering eyes scanning your face. “remember: go at your own pace, don’t let them freak you out.” paige squeezed your hand three times, saying “i love you.” it was a code you two developed when you first started dating. it was a way to express the love you shared subtly.

“you got this.” she said as she rose to her feet and said her goodbyes.

“what a nice young lady.” one of the gentleman said, watching her walk away.

“she’s amazing.” you agreed as the lights dimmed and the first presenter walked to the stage.

—

you couldn’t believe it was you who won national women’s college athlete of the year. you couldn’t move from your seat for a long while, hands covering your face ready to swipe the tears that were pouring down your perfectly made up face. you stood from your seat and held the bottom of your dress, walking slowly and as steady as you could. the yelling behind you was a roar of applause and shouts of your name from your fellow uconn student athletes and the loudest of them - was your girlfriend, paige. you stood at the stairs for a moment, unsure of your balance in the heels that adorned your feet. before you knew it, paige’s hand was in yours, helping you up the steps. she squeezed your hand three times and you smiled at her once you finally made it on stage. she shot you another cheesy thumbs up and the audience laughed.

the microphone was louder than you expected as you loosed a breath. your eyes scoped the audience, looking for that familiar face. everyone was in their seats, except paige. she was recording you and your acceptance speech and it was adorable.

“gosh,” you said looking down at the trophy before back up, “i don’t even know where to begin. i never thought my journey as an athlete would bring me to this moment. i was just a little girl years ago, watching uconn athletes and dreaming to be where they were. to stand alongside the greats and be in the arena where they existed. i never, ever,” you sniffled and wiped at your tears, “expected to be a part of uconn the way that i am now. i never knew love like this existed until uconn became my life. i have a thank you list that’s a mile long - so i’ll spare you all,” you laughed and the audience followed, “there are not enough words to describe the family and love i found while being an athlete at uconn. to my people, i love you and to my girlfriend, i adore you. thank you for believing in me and thank you for all those tough training sessions where you kicked my ass - it got me this trophy!.” you laughed and the crowd erupted in applause once more and you could’ve sworn that your girlfriend paige, was the loudest.

—

paigebueckers: after party with my girl, my national women’s college athlete of the year. she learned it all from me. so proud of her.

kkarnold: she’s really that girl

azzifudd: the dress is stunning just like her

paigefan1: so happy for yall 🥺

paigefan2: my heart, i cannot take it anymore

paigefan3: she’s so in love with her and i love it

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers fanfiction #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers x reader

[thedreamerstoryteller]

#I have already said that his chest will be the death of me #Xiao Shunyao is hot #He is stunning with this hairstyle and make up #Actually he is always stunning #He wears v-neck shirts because he knows how they affect us #But damn man! If you keep doing this I will be death before 2024! #The little dragon on his cheek is chef's kiss #With the hairstyle and the face mask in the top right photo he reminds me the character of a videogame like Mortal Kombat or Dead or Alive #I would always choose him to play #I can hear the off-screen voice of the game saying “Xiao Shunyao wins. Flawless Victory” #He is flawless by the way #i love him #xiao shunyao #chinese drama #cdrama #mysterious lotus casebook #lian hua lou #shui long yin #di feisheng

[cherryjuiceblues]

𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎 𝐆𝐀𝐖𝐊 𝐀𝐓

➯ HARRY’S GROWN IN SOME PLACES AND Y/N IS MORE THAN OBSESSED. ✰ sexual content. size kink. daddy kink. degradation. creampie. minors dni. 𝑤𝑐 5k

Harry was changing.

And he had been for a while. Slowly but surely—bit by bit—and all Y/N could do was sit back and watch.

Y/N thinks (and she knows she’s biased because, well, she loves him more than life itself, but still thinks) that Harry will always be the most beautiful man in any room. No matter his age, or the clothes he wears, or the facial expressions his features are presenting, he will be pretty personified to her.

And she never thought he could look better. Because he always looked like he’d been handcrafted, slaved away at for hours to achieve the sharp line of his jaw or the divine slope of his nose.

But now he was changing.

And Y/N was wrong.

Another thing she believes (or had believed) is that being with Harry removed any and all of her preferences when it comes to attraction. No matter the way he looked, Y/N loved it—would never change a thing—would never think that maybe that shirt would look better if his chest hair was thicker or that those trousers would be sexier if his thighs were bigger, or that that suit would be more impressive if he was taller. 

Because Harry was visually stunning, always. And even if in the past, Y/N might have been more attracted to a rugged beard, or a different hairstyle, or a specific type of dress sense, then all of that went out of the window when she met Harry.

But now, Y/N was being proven wrong.

She supposes it was a small change at first, so subtle that she didn’t even notice—because Harry had always been strong, even if it didn’t necessarily show and he’d never hesitated to throw Y/N about whichever way he pleased (which could tend to be an insecurity of hers at times).

When she did start to notice though… Nothing else could catch her attention. Whenever he walked into the room her eyes would drift, and whenever she was looking at him whilst he spoke, she’d be itching to lower her gaze and feel her pupils dilate.

Harry didn’t understand at first. He had picked up on her recent lack of concentration, and of course he had, he was attentive—but he couldn’t quite put his finger on what was distracting her so much.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

It’s when the weather starts to warm up enough to get his arms out that it clicks.

And that’s what he’s smiling about now, as he hauls patio furniture about and potters around—in a black tank and highlighter yellow short shorts—doing all the garden jobs that had been ignored during the winter and spring. Admittedly with much more flexing than is necessary—after his minx of a girlfriend reacts far too excitedly at the delivery of a new pod chair, and squeezes her thighs together in anticipation, before proceeding to lounge around in her shortest of sundresses with the horniest of gazes as she watches him work.

Harry’s trying to be subtle about his amusement, wanting to play with her for as long as he can now that he knows why she’s been drooling for him more than usual. But his tummy is fluttering with excitement as he schemes the best way to rile her up.

He thinks she’s probably already wet, if the clenching of her thighs is anything to go by as she sits in the pod chair she watched him assemble; her naked legs swinging gently. And he’s worked up quite the sweat, out in the sun for a while already—droplets starting to trickle down his back.

So he thinks it only natural to remove his shirt, biceps straining as he reaches behind him to tug the material over his head. 

Y/N’s breath hitches. No matter how many times she sees Harry’s body, it makes her go all silly without fail. And the same happens now as his glistening, tanned, ink-covered torso is revealed and her eyes start to fight over which part of him to gawk at first.

He’s big. Bigger than he’s ever been—and Y/N must send his PT some flowers or something because she’s sure she’s never been so turned on in her life and that deserves a thank you, doesn’t it? 

Harry’s chest rises and falls gently, pecs dusted in sweat-soaked hair that Y/N has never wanted to lick more. She knows she can stare; is well past the point in their relationship to care about being caught—wants to get caught even, to aid his teasing that does so much to her insides. A drop of sweat trickles in between his abs and Y/N always swore she didn’t care for the definition of those muscles, but on Harry… he looks like the posterboy for all pornstars. Everyone’s wet dream, everyone’s type, everyone’s secret fantasy.

Yet, it’s still his arms that stun her the most. She’s not sure why—if it’s solely because of some undiscovered size kink or how obviously he could overpower her—there might not be any deeper meaning other than looking sexy and strong. Maybe it’s because they’re so big that they bulge with every movement, muscles contracting and golden, tattooed skin stretching. Maybe it’s the fine hair that covers his forearms—that have also become considerably thick and meaty. Y/N has lost count of the amount of times she’s wished to sink her teeth into them. Especially when a particular vein or tendon makes itself prominent. Paired with the fact that she has always been undeniably turned on by his hands and Y/N doesn’t stand a chance.

It’s like the man she’s known, who was already completely and utterly everything she could ever want, has been multiplied by ten. And now Y/N is left to try and function as a normal human being with this Greek god of a man who has arms bigger than her head.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“—I don’t think I love you anymore.”

Y/N flinches, eyes shooting up to Harry’s and away from his body.

“Oh, so now you listen to me,” he rolls his eyes, smirk obvious.

“That’s not funny, Harry.” Y/N frowns, heart going a million beats a second. “Why would you say that, you dick.” She hoists herself out of the chair and storms towards the patio doors. With no way she’d ever make it very far, as Harry drops the tools he was using to assemble a coffee table and hastily swoops in behind Y/N—wrapping her up in the things that got her into this position in the first place.

Her back meets his chest. His bare chest. And his face meets her neck, stubble tickling her skin. “I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean it.” He’s smiling. Y/N feels his arms tighten around her waist. “You weren’t listening t’me, were you?”

She huffs and says, “No,” in a tone that Harry never appreciates.

“You know I don’t like it when you ignore me. I’m far too needy, aren’t I?”

Y/N hums something incomprehensible, ashamed by her pathetic reaction to such a basic body part.

“C’mon, come back. Y’givin’ me something pretty to look at whilst I work.” Harry pinches her waist and she can’t help but shriek a laugh, body betraying her when his fingers dig in.

“You weren’t even looking at me,” Y/N scoffs, reluctantly making her way back to her chair as Harry finishes up on the floor.

“How would you know?” His arms bulge as he screws the table together. “Weren’t exactly staring at m’face, were you, love?”

Y/N rolls her eyes, fluffing up her dress around her thighs.

“I’ve noticed something recently,” Harry starts, admiring his handiwork before getting to his feet and making his way over to Y/N. He picks up a previously ignored bottle of sun tan lotion on his way. “Or, you’ve noticed something, I suppose.”

He kneels before her, hands steadying the gentle swaying of the chair before he smooths them down her legs and props her foot up on his thigh. Y/N pretends to not have a clue. It makes her belly tingle with juvenile excitement.

“What do you mean?”

Harry pops the bottle open and generously squeezes the lotion into his palm. It’s cold as it meets Y/N’s calf, and she twitches a little. But Harry’s hands are warm; he already knows that thirty seconds of this will have her melting into him. 

“You think I don’t see the way you’ve been looking at me lately?” He massages the muscle in his palms and Y/N sighs blissfully.

“I always look at you the same, my love,” she exhales.

“Hm? And how’s that?”

“Like you’re the only man in the world.”

Harry pinches her thigh and Y/N yelps. “Don’t get all soppy on me now. You know exactly what I’m talking about,” and like the sadist that he is, Harry subtly flexes his arms—covertly enough that it looks like a completely involuntary twitch of the muscles. But Y/N’s eyes snap there regardless, and Harry smiles, vast palms moving up higher on her leg as he applies more lotion and starts on her thigh.

“I don’t know, Harry. Why would I look at you different? What’s different about you?” Her voice holds the tiniest of inflections that only Harry would notice means she’s being playful. And it riles him up some.

“Okay, baby. If that’s how you wanna play.” Harry switches legs. He’s much less slow and tender, digging his fingers into her calf and holding firmly when she tries to pull away. The strength he exhibits only has Y/N’s eyes even more trained to his body. When he gets to her thigh he pushes her dress up until her underwear peeks out and delivers a harsh, unexpected slap to the inside—purposely where it hurts a little. Y/N gasps and her hips push up. Harry pays her no mind, applying more lotion before rubbing it in—far too high under her dress where no sun is reaching—and Y/N can see where this is going. Which Harry is coming out.

It all happens so quickly; Harry’s hand pushing against her collarbones to angle her awkwardly against the deep back of the chair, slumping her body surely unattractively, before flipping her dress up higher and tugging her to the edge. His breath fans against her warmth, cruel eyes looking up at Y/N in her stunned state. He leans down and his arms curl under her thighs, hands resting atop and squeezing them tauntingly. God, she can feel his biceps tensing against her.

He’s right there. Lips ghosting across where she needs him. Close enough to barely peek his tongue out and have it meet. Right there. And then he’s gone. Shrugging her legs off his arms and standing up, making some comment about how they need to buy some more sun tan lotion as he goes to walk inside.

Y/N is scrambling off the chair. “Fuck you!” Her hand shoots out and grabs Harry’s wrist. Immediately he spins and flinches away from her, replacing her grip with his own and twisting her arm behind her back. Her chest pushes into him as he leans down.

“You think I haven’t noticed how much of a brat you’ve become?” His voice slicks down her thighs. Oh. “Never fucking listen to me anymore,” she tries to reach for his waist but he twists that arm behind her as well until he’s holding both of her wrists in one of his hands. He leans down further so it’s even harder for her to balance as she bends back. “Just drool over me like a needy slut, don’t you?” Y/N whimpers, the only thing she can do is look up at him. “You’ve been treating me like a piece of meat—staring until your pretty cunt is dripping, right? I can treat you like a piece of meat too, sweetheart.”

“Shut up,” she pouts, before whining, “want—you,” neck aching from the angle she’s bent at. Harry laughs, pulling her hair a little for being a brat, before ghosting his mouth across hers.

“I know. Made that pretty fucking obvious, you silly girl.” He plucks at her bottom lip with his thumb. “You don’t need my cock to be fucked dumb, do you, baby? That little head of yours is always empty.” He squeezes her cheeks together with his fingers. Harry smiles down at his girl’s wide doe eyes staring up at him, completely at his disposal. “Speak.”

“I’m empty,” Y/N nods, giving up her attitude, “need you.” And that’s not what Harry meant but it’s close enough.

“I don’t think you deserve it,” he whispers into her mouth—and then he’s standing behind her, wrists still firmly in his grasp as he shuffles them closer to the windows. The sun glares down, casting a clear reflection of the both of them. Of Harry wrapping his forearm around Y/N’s collarbones, forcing her back to arch. “You haven’t been honest with me,” the entirety of his body is pressed against the back of her. It has her mind scrambling. “You’re not good.”

It’s a low blow. One assured to have Y/N begging and pleading in no time; desperate to make him happy, and desperate to be pleasured.

“I’m…sorry,” she frowns, eyes fixated on the reflection of their bodies. “Wanna be good f’you.” Harry squeezes her wrists as a warning to keep them behind her back before letting go to wrap his other arm around her waist—excited himself by the way he engulfs her. He bends down, causing Y/N to go with him, and the weight in his shorts is growing heavier by the second as they just look at themselves.

Y/N stops herself from wiggling back; doesn’t want to misbehave for a second—not anymore. “Please. All I think about is you, Harry. A-all the time,” her breathing is laboured and her underwear is suffocating. 

And this is how he gets her. “What do you think about?” He turns his face into her shoulder, nudging her sleeve off with his nose before dotting distracting kisses along her skin.

Y/N hesitates. This is what the game was all about. Pretending there was no reason for her gawking. She’s stubborn. But so is Harry. The arm around her collarbones shifts until his large hand is cupping her throat. Y/N’s knees nearly buckle right then and there. Her head tips back a little against him but he squeezes the sides of her neck, right where the blood is fighting to flow, and forces her to look back at the reflection.

“Tell me.” His voice is so deep, so low; the vibrations spread through her like treacle. “Look at me,” he squeezes again, “and tell me.”

He doesn’t ease up around her throat so her words are tight. His arm moves down to her hips. “You’ve got…so…big,” she whimpers. “Everywhere.” Harry’s hips twitch, dying to rut against her ass. But instead, with teasing fingers he lifts the hem of her dress. Up and up until he can stuff it between his hand and her throat, obsessed with the way her bare stomach rises and falls at a rapid pace.

Y/N’s flimsy panties don’t stand a chance—the once pale pink now a much darker hue in the place she needs him most. But Harry wouldn’t be so kind. He makes her think he’s going to rub on her like she wants, middle finger trailing over her clit with a feather-light touch. Barely there but still enough to make her twitch. He does it again—a small circle—before dipping lower, pushing in her underwear and feeling it slick against her.

And then he rears his hand back, too quickly for Y/N to realise, and brings it back down to her clit in a harsh, tight slap. She buckles and writhes, held up solely by the hand around her throat as Harry trails his fingers along the inside of her thigh. His smirk tickles against her shoulder.

“Har—Harry!” she gasps, unable to stop her body from moving against him now, not whilst she’s thrumming.

“I’m big, yeah? Too big for you, surely. Look at the way I swallow you up.” Oh, and she is. With half-lidded eyes and shallow breaths.

“Yes, I love it, Harry. I love it,” her hips search for his hand and he pushes her against him, spanning across her mound.

“That’s not everything though, is it?” Another squeeze around her throat. “Be good.”

She tries—so hard—as Harry starts to suck and bite marks into her skin. “Arms, it’s your arms,” she breathes, head foggier and foggier by the second. He eases up a little when she starts to slump, tracing his thumb across her lips.

“What about them?” Fingers slip inside her underwear; a reward for using her words. Even as he starts rubbing small circles, he knows she’ll cum quickly.

“So hot, Harry. And big.”

He laughs, “Y’already said that. Just so hot and big, aren’t I?” The narcissist in him goes wild, cock twitching in his shorts. And he allows himself one rut against her, just to take the edge off. But Y/N wants more—of course she does—and she’s starting to make all sorts of pretty noises as he rubs her clit. So Harry keeps moving, sure that the feel of him against her is propelling her towards her orgasm whilst he’s barely teasing himself.

“You’ve got a slutty pussy, Y/N,” he tightens his hand around her throat once more, lips brushing her ear. “Drenched because your boyfriend can manhandle you, yeah? I could do anything to you ‘n’ you’d let me, wouldn’t you? Because you’re so desperate for it.”

“Uh-huh,” Y/N nods shakily. She’s trying to keep her eyes on their reflection, to see Harry’s muscles work as his fingers hide in her underwear, and the way his hips push into her ass. 

“Tell me.”

“Want you to—manhandle me…use me—need t’cum.” She’s building up, can feel as Harry smears her arousal around in a mess before rubbing harder on her clit. And faster.

“You g’na cum?” Faster.

“Yes! Yes, yes, please.” He lets her throw her head back, lets her reach the edge, whimpering and whining just as she starts to let go.

And then he’s gone. Harry rips his hand from her pussy and shoves his glistening fingers in her mouth before she can talk. Y/N cries around them, shaking her head in a desperate plea.

“Mmph—no!—Please,” she tries, but how could Harry ever understand what she wants?

He takes hold of her wrists again and bends her forward by her waist, kicking her legs open wider. She’s completely held up by him; if he were to let go, she would topple straight over, no doubt about it.

With a heavy hand, Harry pushes her dress up and over her ass and delivers a well-connecting smack to the rounded flesh. Y/N mewls, legs shaking in surprise. It’s harder to maintain her eye contact with the window at this angle, especially when all she wants is to lull her head like she’s weightless. Harry wastes no time in tugging her underwear halfway down her thighs. Finds it satisfying to keep her somewhat immobilised.

And Y/N couldn’t care less, as soon as she feels Harry pulling himself out and sinking into her—she’s sure she wouldn’t notice if their house was burning.

He barely lets her adjust, and no matter how wet she is Harry’s always a stretch. A deep inhale, body stilling kind of stretch. And once she’s full and his pelvis pushes against her bum and they both allow for a second of joint ecstasy at being as close as possible once again, Harry is quick to treat her the way she so desperately wants.

His other hand comes up to her hair, pulling it sharply so Y/N’s neck bends back. “Look. Watch as I fuck you.” Incomprehensible noises are forced from her throat, jaw hanging looser with each inch that Harry invades. She’s never been more grateful to have a secluded garden. 

The sight before her rivals one from a porn film—fitting for her sex god of a boyfriend; she could only hope to look pretty enough next to him. Her body bent forward, neck stretched and inviting, back arching with the force of her arms behind her back. Thighs open just enough to fit Harry’s cock into her weepy hole, flesh threatening to rip the underwear that controls their freedom. 

Occasionally the sun will reflect just right and Y/N will notice the glistening of her wetness spread across her mound. Though her eyes soon fall shut with the strength of Harry’s thrusts, unrelenting and point-proving.

“Fuck. Can feel you squeezin’ already.” His words shoot straight to her clit, tingling and buzzing. “So easy, aren’t you, pet?” Y/N nods fruitlessly. “I shouldn’t let you finish,” he threatens against her ear. “Should fill you up with my cum, have you serve your purpose and then thank me for it.”

She pulsates at the thought, at the warmth of feeling him drip down her thighs. Sometimes dripping around the sides of his prick if Harry’s particularly wound up and has a few rounds in him.

“Please,” Y/N cries, sweat beading at her hairline.

Harry groans into her jaw, hips meeting her ass bruisingly. “Yeah? Filthy girl, jus’ my hole, aren’t you?”

“Mhm! Please cum in me, please,” Y/N tries to turn her head, nose bumping into his cheek. She wants a kiss but her brain cannot possibly communicate that to her mouth as it hangs open.

The sounds of skin meeting skin ring in her ears and her throat threatens to cry perfectly timed noises with each thrust. And she’s not sure when it happened but her tits are out of her dress and Harry’s letting go of her hair to palm one roughly as he starts to breathe heavier and heavier.

Body leaden, Y/N’s head falls back to his shoulder and her eyes peel open slightly, watching Harry’s face contort beautifully from above her. She wants it so bad—knows that he’ll always make her finish regardless—needs to walk around in her summer dress and cum-soaked panties. “Please, Daddy. Cum in me.”

The name has Harry groaning, hips stuttering and stilling against her as he paints long, thick stripes inside Y/N. “Thank you!” She cries, his release stimulating her like nothing else. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Despite Harry being the one with orgasm heavy bones, Y/N crumbles, knees buckling as she takes them both to the floor. He braces her fall, arm strong around her waist. His cock stays twitching inside of her, still hard, and he angles her ass into the air as he stands on his knees astride her legs.

“You good, baby?” Harry smooths a hand up her back, pushing her dress out of the way.

Y/N’s arms stretch above her, content to be lying on the hard floor. “Yeah, really good. Thank you, Daddy.”

Harry smiles softly to himself, she’s under. “You wanna cum?”

“Am I allowed? I said some bad things to you.”

“That’s okay. I want you to squeeze on my cock ‘n’ let me fuck my cum into you. Can you do that for me?”

“Uh-huh,” she nods nastily, head turned to the side on the concrete. He’d take care of her later.

“Good girl, nice ‘n’ tight, f’me.”

The noise of their arousal mixing together, probed by Harry’s cock is one he’ll replay in desperate moments alone. Squelching and slicking as he starts up his rough pace once again. Y/N contracts around him in quick, spasming motions—hips attempting to push back from her awkward position. Her tummy is hot and her clit is painfully untouched; she’s sure she’d grind it on the floor if she could reach but Harry’s hands are firm on her hips, angling her just the way he likes as he pounds into her tight hole.

Harry wishes he had his phone to hand—would take enough pictures of the sight before him to last forever. His cum is starting to leak out the sides, dripping down to Y/N’s clit and slicking up his cock. The mess of it all has his eyes rolling back.

“God, y’just perfect. Wanna keep you like this forever. Make you sticky with my cum, then maybe take you out and watch you try to ignore the feeling of it dripping out of you.” Harry slaps her ass and moans as she spasms around him, hands pulling her cheeks apart to reveal her other hole. “Wanna mark you everywhere. Especially here.” He thumbs over the puckered skin. “Fill you up and push in every drop, then give you a pretty plug so it stays inside all day.” Y/N’s shaking, eyes clenched shut and pussy quivering. All Harry has to do is reach around and start rubbing tight circles into her clit and she’s gone.

“Harry! I’m cumming, I’m cumming—D-daddy, thank you.” Harry leans over her back, kissing the side of her face and not slowing down for a second.

“Gimme another,” he whispers, speeding up his thrusts and slapping her clit one, two, three times, vibrations elongating her orgasm and sending her straight into her second one. Harry pulls back, regretfully pulling out for a moment to flip Y/N over and tug her flush against him. He wraps her thighs around his waist and guides her arms around his neck, endeared by her fucked out expression. “Doing so good, honey.” She smiles, eyes closing and nuzzling her face into his neck. Harry thinks if he wasn’t already hard, that smile alone would’ve given him a love boner.

“Jus’ sit all pretty, Daddy’s got you.”

He holds her hips securely, palms encompassing miles of skin, and lifts her just enough to start fucking up into her cunt. Their cum will surely make a mess in their laps but he minds none—goes faster at the very thought, even. Thinks about scooping it up with his fingers and feeding it to Y/N, and then leaning in to get a taste of them together, moaning into her mouth and suckling at her lips like a starved man.

As if she can read his mind, Y/N starts nibbling at his skin, laving her tongue over the drops of sweat that trickle down his neck. Then she pulls back just enough to wilt against his mouth, lips barely responsive but Harry kisses her with all he’s got. And she’s close again, when her heavy hand trails down to start rubbing at her swollen, cum-drenched clit much daintier than Harry had.

“F-feels so good,” she whines against his mouth, happy to let Harry lick against her tongue, “love you.”

Harry whimpers, “G-god, I love you too. So much, you’re so good, I love you.” Y/N rubs harder, pussy tightening—and Harry fucks harder as they both rest their foreheads on eachother’s shoulders. With her other hand, Y/N holds his bicep, squeezing and scratching as much as she pleases. She barely covers the muscle and Harry can’t help but smile as his orgasm rushes closer.

It’s when she whispers, words garbled and strained, that Harry tips over the edge. “F-fuck me so good, s-so good. G’na make me pregnant—‘n’ full of you.” And it’s his warm spurts that have Y/N cumming as well, pulsating around Harry as she milks him dry. He cums a lot, and the more he does, the longer Y/N’s orgasm lasts—they melt against one another in a mess of moans and gentle rutting, sweaty skin sticking them together. 

Y/N peels her hand from Harry’s arm, seeing the crescent moons she’s left behind and looking up at him guiltily. He smiles, pushing her hair away from her face and leaning down to kiss her nose.

“Felt good,” he promises. “Now I know how much you like them, you can do whatever you want.”

Y/N whines, biting his shoulder playfully. “Shower now, please. We’re gross.”

Harry hums, staying tucked inside and holding her tight to him as he stands on nearly wobbly legs. “Just so you know, if we shower together, I will be naked. Will you be able to contain yourself at the sight of my big, sexy arms?”

She sinks her fingers into the hair on the back of his head and tugs. “Shut up. They’re not even that big.”

“Okay, my love. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

#harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles one shots #harry styles blurbs #harry styles imagines #dom!harry #domrry #daddy!harry #harry styles x reader #writing

[harmonictechnicality]

Robin drags Steve to a local art exhibit on a goddamn weeknight. This is not his scene at all.

Pretentious douchebags in scarves discussing if that splatter of paint represents socioeconomic downfall? Nah, this shit is not for him.

Robin ditches him halfway through the exhibit to talk to some sculptor that she’s got a thing for. Honestly, Steve would’ve done the same thing if it were him. But still, Steve is five minutes away from leaving her ass and taking a cab home.

He’s sitting on metal bench, centered a few feet away from the oversized canvas of scattered colors.

It looks like such a mess. Scribbled strokes of paint and lines that bump into curves. Everything intersecting. Someone would probably try to convince him that it represents the artist’s troubled past or fucked up childhood.

To Steve, it’s just a mess.

“What do you think?” A voice asks, joining Steve on the bench.

He looks to be about Steve’s age. Bold features, bolder hairstyle. All black clothes with chunky red combat boots. Elaborate tattoos creeping over the collar of his shirt.

Steve shrugs. “Truthfully? I don’t get it.”

“It’s art. What don’t you get about it?” The guy looks stunned.

Is Steve really about to argue with a complete stranger over lines and colors?

“There’s nothing but lost movements.”

Guess he is.

Steve observes the nameplate next to the canvas and goes off.

“Like this Eddie Munson guy held up a paintbrush and went, ‘fuck it, they’ll never know this is bullshit.’ Honestly, this whole place is a facade for people to masquerade around, pretending to be in tune to artistic expression, but they’re not.”

“They’re not?”

“No.” Steve answers immediately, a little defensive. “Nobody here gives a shit about what the artist is trying to convey, and this artist…”

Steve points at the artwork.

“This Munson guy knew that. Knew he could fool every rich asshole in this place.”

The guy looks at the painting and laughs. He’s got a nice smile, Steve thinks. Wide and genuine. Not too perfect. Not overly rehearsed. Like he doesn’t give out smiles to just anyone.

“Eddie Munson couldn’t fool you though, could he?” He finally says, looking directly at Steve.

The intense eye contact makes Steve a bit fidgety. Nervous. “I guess not, no.”

“I like that.”

“Like what?”

“That you refuse to see what everyone else sees.” The guy turns away, releasing Steve from the gaze. “Even if that would be easier.”

It almost sounded like he was trying to say he likes Steve. Not that Steve would complain if that were true. This guy is not his type, but that doesn’t mean he’s unwilling to expand his definition of type for someone that’s interested in him.

“What do you think about it?” Steve tilts his head towards the canvas.

The guy twists the ring on his thumb, processing an answer. He crosses his legs, then un-crosses them. Twists the ring counterclockwise now.

“I think the painter abandoned their originality to meet their growing audience’s expectations of them as an artist.” He finally says.

Steve scoffs. “How did you draw up a conclusion like that?”

The guy hums and abruptly changes the topic. “What did you say your name was?”

“Steve Harrington.”

“Right.” He gets up and gestures toward a ‘staff only’ door. “Up for a little field trip, Steve Harrington?”

This is dumb. Breaking laws is something Steve left behind in his angst-filled teen years.

But this guy is bad-boy hot and Steve is painfully bored, so he follows the stranger despite his better judgement.

They enter the door and are instantly greeted by a trail of empty paint buckets. There’s dirty tarps covering the floors and countless canvases laid out across the wide room.

Right away, Steve can tell this is what art is all about. The chaos. The urgency to create as soon inspiration strikes.

And these paintings look nothing like the one hanging in the gallery. These paintings are full narratives told through shapes and pigments.

These paintings could be an autobiography on the topic of someone who experiences life deeply. Passionately.

These are the untold masterpieces.

“Wow.” Is all Steve finally comes up with.

“To answer your question,” the stranger gestures grandly to the entirety of the room. “This is how I drew up that conclusion.”

“This was the originality. It’s stuck behind these four walls, but it’s where everything started. It’s where everything should have stayed.”

Steve carefully watches the man explore all the different works of art. Bending down to touch some. Smiling playfully at others. Steve is stupidly captivated by his ability to shine amongst literal art.

“What did you say your name was?”

The guy chuckles and walks back over to Steve. “I didn’t.”

“Right. Are you gonna tell me?”

“That depends.”

“Depends on what?”

“Depends on if you’ll still kiss me after I tell you.”

They’re standing close, Steve hadn’t realized it until now. Maybe it was him closing the distance. Maybe it was the stranger. Maybe it was gravity growing tired of their mediocre foreplay.

But they’re close now. So close that Steve can see the lightening bolt tattoo below the stranger’s left ear. A thought runs rampant in Steve’s slutty mind that he could see every single neck tattoo if he were to start unbuttoning this guy’s shirt.

He’s close enough to do it.

“I’ll still kiss you afterwards,” Steve agrees dreamily. Getting high off of paint fumes and close proximity.

The stranger lets his hand wander up the back of Steve’s neck, breaths getting caught in Steve’s throat at the contact.

“I’m that Eddie Munson guy.” He says in a low whisper. “The same one who held up a paintbrush and went, ‘fuck it, they’ll never know this is bullshit.’”

Every word he utters is cautious now. Like Steve might change his mind about kissing him.

Steve doesn’t change his mind.

He pulls hard at Eddie’s collar, lets their lips collide dizzily fast. Eddie’s mouth pushes against his to lead the kiss, Steve is more than happy to let him do so.

It’s a noisy kiss. Sounds escaping out of the corners of their mouths. Airy gasps and rustling clothes filling the open space.

Steve breaks the kiss to speak, inhaling as much oxygen as he can get. “I’m guessing you bring lots of guys back here and woo them with your secretly amazing art.”

Eddie had transitioned to kissing Steve’s neck while he was talking, but stops as soon as Steve says that.

“You’ve got it all wrong, sweetheart.” Eddie cradles Steve’s flushed cheeks with both hands. “I only bring pretty boys who refuse to see what everyone else sees back here.”

Steve moves Eddie’s hands and wraps them around his own neck. “Even if that would be easier.”

Eddie smiles. “Exactly.”

He goes back to sucking on Steve’s neck, like he was rudely interrupted before, and Steve starts to feel as chaotic as the art surrounding them. Eddie marks him with a fresh bruise, just below his right ear. Mirroring the exact spot where Eddie’s lightening tattoo is located.

Eddie licks over it. Swirling his tongue in sweltering circles, making Steve pant wow as he finishes the creation he was designing solely with his mouth.

He exhales a single laugh into their kiss.

“Why are you laughing?” Steve asks.

Eddie shakes his head.

“I really like doing things that make you say wow like that, Steve Harrington.”

Steve kisses Eddie’s cheek. “I really like that too.”

Eddie kisses him thoroughly slow once more, then nibbles over Steve’s ear as he whispers:

“Kinda curious to find out what else I can make you say.”

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #art gallery meetcute #it gets a little smooch heavy at the end there #I’m physically incapable of writing Eddie not giving lovebites #it’s probably a disease i should get my head checked out

[in-class-daydreams]

Just Between Us (Satoru Gojo x Reader)

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Utahime!Reader Synopsis: You possess a coveted ability, the Blessed Womb, meaning your offspring will bear any and all cursed techniques in their father's bloodline. As such, you've lived a life isolated from society, to protect your rare capability. But what about you? Is that all you are? A womb? You refuse to be reduced to what your body can do. You and Satoru Gojo were born on the same cold day in December 1989. The Universe seems to have designed you to be twin flames, but by now you happen to resent the Universe making all your decisions for you. Set around the beginning of the school year of Gojo's second year of high school. Notes/TW: Toxic patriarchy & arranged marriage culture. Reader is sheltered to an abusive degree. Some mentions of blood. Gojo and reader argue a whole bunch and yes, that's a warning. Fem pronouns used and the reader has a uterus for plot reasons.

“The hell do you mean you kissed Geto?” you shout at Gojo.

You sat at your vanity, painstakingly plucking pins from the elaborate updo that the maids put your hair into. Your personal attendant, Miwako, would have a heart attack with how harsh you were being with her labor of love, but she had enough survival instincts to leave you and Gojo be. This wasn’t the first fight of yours she’d been in proximity to, and it wouldn’t be the last.

The boy in question leans against your dresser. He’s still wearing his school uniform, not even having the decency to change clothes for your birthday ceremony while you’d been getting trussed up like a Christmas ham since 6 am.

“Technically, he kissed me. And it was just the one time,” he drawls. Your oldest friend stares off into space, likely reminiscing the feeling of kissing one Suguru Geto. You’d never seen the man, since he never had a reason to visit the Utahime Estate and you weren’t allowed to leave. Gojo would have shown you pictures, if your clan elders allowed any blue light on the premises.

You pointedly avoid his gaze - he wasn’t paying attention to you anyhow, probably too busy thinking about Geto - and busy yourself with dismantling the amalgamation of clips and pins that was your hairstyle.

“You’re mad,” Gojo says.

“What would I be mad for, Satoru?” you reply simply.

He counts on his fingers. “First, you’re not looking at me. Second, you called me ‘Satoru,’ and third, I know everything about you, I know when you’re mad.”

You resent that. Gojo was always under the assumption that he knew, as he said, “everything about you,” and you were always positive that he was full of it. He might have been your oldest friend, and he was a significant part of your life, but in light of all the “fate this” and “destiny that” talk from just about everyone you’ve ever met, you were adamant that your thoughts were your own.

You and Satoru Gojo were born on the same cold day in December 1989. The heir to the Gojo Clan first opened his eyes around 6 am, just as the sun broke the horizon and turned the sea of indigo night to golden morning. You, who would be imbued with the Blessed Womb and therefore responsible for the fate of the Utahime Clan, filled your mother’s bedroom with your newborn wails just before 5 pm, when the orange and periwinkle and blue and blush were being covered in a blanket of night. The sight of you brought tears to your big sister’s eyes.

The two of you were introduced to each other as soon as possible, swaddled in your respective blankets and placed beside each other. What your clans envisioned, you’d never know, but baby Satoru wailed in his mother’s arms until his swaddle made contact with yours. All froze in stunned silence when you both immediately fell into a peaceful slumber. It was as if the stars made you to be two parts of a whole.

Within that year, when you were having trouble learning to roll over, you finally did so to come face to face with him. Months later, his first steps were towards you. His mother liked to say that you were a cosmic match, and she guessed that your mother would have said the same thing, had she survived your birth.

The two of you were a fairytale straight out of a storybook.

You would come to resent that.

Where was your own agency? Were you to inevitably fall for a man whom destiny chose for you? What about what you wanted? Why did you not have a say in the universe’s great plan for you?

But none of that mattered, for as you grew older and the true nature of your Blessed Womb came to light, each scrap of autonomy you possessed was stripped away. For much of your childhood, you shared a joint birthday party, alternating between estates each year. As soon as it was up to him, Satoru decided that any celebrations would be just about you. Maybe he believed he was doing you a favor, but all that did was concentrate all the public scrutiny onto you.

You click your tongue. “Yeah, well, you’re free to do whatever you want. I’m happy for you and your new boyfriend.”

“It’s not like that,” he says.

A bobby pin slips from your grip and flings into the mirror, bouncing to the ground. You grunt in frustration and spin around to face him.

“What’s it like, then?” you demand.

He raises his hands up in defense. “It felt weird! We’re good where we’re at, and– Look, I’m not a mind reader, okay? You say with your mouth that you’re happy for me, and then you act pissed off. Which is it and what do you want from me?”

When you try to look away again, he leans the same way, forcing himself into your field of view every time you turn your head.

“Are you mad you’re not my first kiss? Is that it?” You pause at his question and stare at him blankly. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he adds, “You’re my first everything else, princess, you can’t let someone else have this one?”

You grab the first thing within reach - a pretty metal claw clip - and fling it at him. He catches it easily.

“Shut up! You’re so–!” you shout, unable to find an insult suitable for the ire you feel. “You’re so!”

“Full of myself?” he helpfully supplies.

“Don’t put words in my mouth!” you snap. “You’re so damn full of yourself, it’s a wonder you have room for anyone else!” You turn your back to him. “Maybe you don’t.”

 The house servants, and probably your sister if she was in her room, were plenty used to yours and Gojo’s spats by now. You heard from a particularly loose-lipped new maid that there’s a running tally in the staff quarters keeping score of who wins your arguments. She wouldn’t say more, but you like to believe that you’re winning. “Don’t think I care who you put your thin, crusty lips–”

“My lips are soft and supple!”

“Thin–” you emphasize. “--crusty lips on! You can kiss my grandmother for all I care, if she lets you anywhere near her.”

“Grandma Utahime wishes she could get herself a taste of this!”

“Whatever!” You rubbed your temples and tried to will away what you called your “Gojo Headache.” All the headaches caused by him stretched all the way across your forehead and somehow made your jaw ache. They were unmistakable and exclusive.

“See, that’s what pisses me off,” Gojo says, gesturing with one hand. “We argue and when you don’t want to argue any more, you just say ‘whatever’ and nothing gets solved.”

“What part of me not wanting to argue any more do you not understand? You’re so stubborn, it’s not worth it!” you reply.

There’s a light knock at the door. Through it, you hear Miwako’s muffled voice bid you goodnight.

She can’t see you, but you lower your head and speak as soft and sweet as possible. “Thank you, Miwako. Sleep well, and thank you for attending me today.” Then you turn back to Satoru. “But if you’re going to be a pain in the ass about it–”

“I’m the pain in the ass?”

“-- I’ll tell you why I’m mad! I woke up this morning, drank that nasty red ginseng tea, got in the tub, got every inch of me scrubbed down and then lotioned. The attendants brought me into the main hall where I sat and did tea ceremony while the jujutsu clans paraded their men around in front of me, insisting that my grandmother - not me - agrees to a marriage alliance to unite the clans.” Gojo opens his mouth to speak, but you’re not done. “Iori refused to make eye contact with me all day - just like she does every year on my birthday - so the last person I was counting on was you! So excuse me if I’m upset that you showed up late, made me face the Kamo Clan, Naoya Zenin, and the Inumaki Clan’s ten year old successor on my own, then had the audacity to come in and act like it’s fine to talk about your love life like everything is fine and dandy for us both, because it isn’t! It’s just great for you!”

You take a deep breath, panting by now. It’s been a while since you ripped Gojo a genuine new one. Usually, the two of you have minor spats over things you can’t remember and call it a day. The two of you don’t even apologize, you just move on.

The problem was, things would always be harder on you than him. While you sympathized with the insurmountable pressure he must be feeling as the heir of both of his clan’s techniques, he was a man. In the archaic values of the jujutsu upper nobility, he would be free to make more of his own decisions in one day than you would in your entire life. That, and he wasn’t cursed with a Blessed Womb.

You’re still shaking with rage when you glance at Gojo. Even behind his blackout shades, you can see that his eyes are blown wide. But when he finally formulates a reply, you decide that there’s nothing he can say right now that won’t piss you off, so you go over to the window and check outside to see if the coast is clear.

Over your shoulder, you tell him, “Go home, Satoru, every time you open your mouth, you piss me off.”

You throw a leg over the sill and heave yourself up. Gojo follows close behind.

“As if I ever let you boss me around,” he scoffs. He holds a hand out for you to stabilize yourself and you swat it away.

Bringing the other leg over, you land in the grass with a quiet thump. “Point proven,” you deadpan.

Gojo doesn’t even need to use his hands to help him. They remain in his pockets as he takes a high step through the window and easily slips out behind you. It’s an awkward fit for him with limbs as unwieldy as his.

You stalk off through the darkness to the edge of the estate. You quietly slip through and make your way down the path towards gardens. Not many flowers are in bloom this time of year, but the hedges stand tall and obscure you from view of the house.

Gojo ambled along beside you, leaned far back with his questionable posture. You don’t hate him, despite how vicious your fights could be. He was the only person who didn’t treat you differently from everyone else. Funny, considering he was more tied to your existence than anyone else. Even if he liked to push your buttons, he saw you for you, not what you were cursed with.

You were only four years old when extensive genetic testing revealed that you were imbued with an exceedingly rare, ancient power your clan took to calling the Blessed Womb. After studying the signs of its manifestation, the direction of the entire clan became geared towards finding you an auspicious match.

The major jujutsu clans, and many of the minor ones, possessed more than one cursed technique per clan. However, it was rare for any one sorcerer to be born with talents in more than one technique, Satoru being the first in generations to possess both the Six Eyes and Limitless. Precedence and sparse written records dictated that if you coupled with a jujutsu sorcerer, your offspring was not only guaranteed to possess whatever your own abilities were, but they’d manifest any and all of their father’s techniques as well.

Needless to say, the sharks frenzied once word got out.

You flop down in the grass and lay on your back to look up at the night sky. The estate was more isolated from the city and had no electric lights. The stars twinkled above, and you almost felt sorry for cursing them so. Emphasis on almost, seeing as they had no qualms about doing the same to you.

“Who cares about the yearly marriage exhibition?” Gojo asked. He joined you in the grass, leaning back on his hands. “When the time comes, you’re just gonna marry me, right?” When you don’t reply, he continues, “We were born on the same day, these superstitious old crones wouldn’t go back on that.”

“Shut up, Satoru,” you think to yourself. Not that he would have, had you said it aloud.

“We marry, you don’t have to deal with them ever again, and you’re free,” he says like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “You can even get a boyfriend, if you want, I don’t mind.”

“And then what, Satoru?” You can’t keep the irritation out of your voice. “We live complacently in our loveless marriage and I help you rebuild your clan, give you an heir even stronger than you, and we all live happily ever after? You, me, and our respective side pieces?”

Satoru goes quiet. For all the times you’ve told him to shut his mouth, his silence puts a pit in your stomach. The air doesn’t feel quite right without his voice.

“Hey, I–”

“I thought we knew each other better than that,” he says quietly.

Something ugly wells inside you. A warped monster born of feelings you locked away years ago. It lived in the dark, starving, uncared for until it morphed into a malicious caricature of what it used to be.

No matter what you feared you felt, you couldn’t love Satoru Gojo. Period.

One day, you’d be free. You would withhold the usage of your Blessed Womb from the world. You would go childless to maintain scraps of your autonomy, and you’d learn to live your own life. Study jujutsu sorcery, rent an apartment you could decorate. Anything to stop feeling like you were being jerked around by fate.

As for Gojo, he wanted a family. Something to call his own, where he didn’t have to be the strongest. He could just be Satoru. And to accept that life with him would mean compromising your own desires. Besides, was your love for him a choice you made or was it yet another thing fate wanted to force upon you?

“I’m sorry,” you say, because you are. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know what you meant.”

He lies down on his side facing you. You respond in kind, rolling over to face him just like the first time when you were children.

Your clan would be scandalized by your proximity. His warm breath tickles your face. He smells of crushed spearmint and clean linen.

Funny how if your lives weren’t so intertwined, you might’ve let yourself love him fully.

Gojo leans forward slowly enough for you to pull back if you want. Against your better judgment, you don’t. He stops and it becomes quickly apparent that he won’t move any further. If you want this, you have to close the gap.

All you want is to close your eyes and surge forward, pressing your lips to his. You imagine they’re soft as he claimed and you’d know you’re in trouble when the butterflies aren’t just in your stomach. They’d be splashed across your nose, collecting in your fingertips, and fluttering down your legs, and just like that, you’d be his.

You can’t have that, now, can you?

Gojo’s eyes snap open when your warmth disappears. You sit up and he follows suit, looking more uncertain than you’d ever seen him.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asks and you shake your head furiously, both as a response and to clear your head.

Avoiding his gaze, you reply, “No?”

“Is that a question or?”

“Look, Satoru, we’ve had a lot of firsts together and today was the first time we didn’t, right?” You rip up the grass beneath you in your fingers. 

Gojo jumps to his feet, furious. “No way you’re punishing me for what happened with Suguru!”

“I’m not punishing you for shit!” You throw your hands up in the air. “Can’t I say two sentences without you interrupting me?”

“Then talk!” Gojo shouts back, uncaring that the two of you could be heard. “Explain to me what your problem is!”

“I’m surprised you wanna hear it, at this point!” you retort, getting to your feet.

“Of course I do! I always do when it’s you!”

“All I’m saying is maybe we don’t have to be each other’s firsts for everything! You got to have your first kiss with your first love, so I want to save mine for the same!” you finish.

Gojo freezes, and you take that to mean you’re right on the money.

“I–” you run a hand through your hair. “I know you like you know me. And I’ve never heard you talk about anyone or anything the way you talk about him, so. Yeah. I’m not mad, Toru. I promise. I am happy for you.”

His face is unreadable, which is saying something coming from you. Your oldest friend looks a mix of incredulous, confused, and something else you can’t place.

He shakes his head. More. And he keeps shaking it until you think his eyes are going to fall out.

“You know what, I–” He groans in frustration. “You’re impossible, you know that? I’m not mad you don’t want to kiss me, that’s fine, that’s up to you, I would never hold that against you in this lifetime or the next or the dozen after that, but my problem is with everything else you just said!”

“Who said I don’t want to kiss you, Toru? Don’t put words in my mouth!” you reply.

“Is that the only thing you listened to?”

Something inhuman screeches near the front gate, effectively cutting off the conversation at hand. You pale. With someone as valuable as you on the premises, the Utahime Estate had state-of-the-art protections in place. Nothing unauthorized should have been able to make it anywhere near.

Gojo puts his glasses back on. “Stay here.”

“What? No, I’m coming with you!” you insist, but he’s not having it.

“Just because I taught you to fight doesn’t mean I want you doing it! Stay here!” And with that, Gojo runs off into the night.

You watch him take a few steps then disappear and not for the first time, you wish you could teleport, too. Reaching into your sleeve,  you pull a spool of red thread from a small pocket inside.

Seconds later, their hair on your arms stand on end and a sense of foreboding overtakes you. You hear a low growl behind you and smile. Time to put Gojo’s teachings to the test.

~

Your clanmates find you right where Gojo left you, panting and covered with curse blood and unidentifiable chunks. Red threads hang tangled and limp from both your hands.

The clan’s matriarch, your grandmother, shuffles up to you and grabs your chin, tilting it from side to side searching for blemishes of any sort. Meanwhile, the rest of the clan fussed over how a curse could have made it past the protections.

“Where’s Toru?” you ask tiredly. The cursed spirit that attempted to ambush you was relatively easy to beat, large, but awkward and slow-moving, but it still took some movement on your part to dispatch it. You could only hope that Gojo didn’t meet anything too menacing.

Right on cue, because he loved to make an entrance, Gojo strolled across the yard, hands in his pockets like it was a warm, sunny day in the park and not nearly midnight. But what really caught your clan’s attention was the tall, wide older man marching at his side. You’d never seen him before and you couldn’t recall Gojo mentioning him in any of his stories from school.

Gojo walks right through the small crowd and stopped in front of you and your grandmother.

“Everyone, I’d like you all to meet my teacher, Mr. Masamichi Yaga,” he says.

The older man bows to the matriarch. “As Gojo said, I’m a second-year instructor at Tokyo Jujutsu High.”

Your grandmother gives a withering stare of disapproval. “And I assume Satoru has a very good reason for bringing an unauthorized adult man onto my estate, especially with my granddaughter present.”

With an appearance as painstakingly maintained as yours, you and your clan quickly learned that the men that got to be in your presence required strict curating, lest the wrong man get the wrong idea.

“Actually, I’m here because of your granddaughter,” Yaga says.

“What would a jujutsu instructor possibly want with her?” When your grandmother asked questions, it wasn’t because she needed an answer. More often than not, she’d already put two and two together and was seeing if they had the balls to say it aloud for her.

“I mean, she just slayed a Grade 2 cursed spirit, so,” Gojo shrugs.

Everyone who knew of Satoru Gojo had an opinion of him, and people could say what they wanted, but if nothing else, he was a gifted instructor. Every movement during your fight felt comfortable, confident, controlled.

“Lady Utahime, it is as good as law that those who possess a cursed technique must attend formal schooling in jujutsu sorcery,” Yaga explains something she knows full well.

Your grandmother gives him a long look, then glares at you.

“It seems as though she’s picked up a thing or two on her own.” Her gaze pierces through Gojo and it was unclear who truly possessed the Six-Eyes. To his credit, though, he just smiled at her guilelessly. She clicked her tongue. “Well played, Satoru.” To you, she says, “You will perform your full duty to the clan. We did not spend generations building our life only for you to squander it with your selfishness.”

You blink. “Yes, grandmother.” You’re honestly lost at this point.

“Pack your things, get out of my sight. Yaga, come with me to discuss terms.” She turns to head back towards the house with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Let us pray that Satoru Gojo truly is the strongest.”

The rest of the entourage follows close behind her. You watch them go until Gojo slings an arm over your shoulders, nonplussed by the blood and entrails still covering you.

“Yay! Let’s go pack your stuff!” He drags you towards your room. “You can live right next to me, and whatever you don’t have, we can buy in the city, my treat!” He cheers.

“Hold on!” You pull back and easily slip out of his grasp. Clearly he only meant to guide you and you were always free to escape his hold. “What am I missing here?”

Gojo grins boyishly and takes you by the hands.

“Starting right now, you’re going to be a student at Jujustu High!” he announces.

Your jaw goes slack. “What? I can’t! I’ve never even left the estate! My grandmother would never agree to this!”

Taking one hand and dropping the other, Gojo pulls you - more gently - towards your room.

“She just did. Now, come on! Before she changes her mind!”

As you struggle to keep up with his long strides, the pieces begin to come together in your mind. Your grandmother was always very strict, to say the least, and she insisted that you complete your duty to the clan. Since birth, it had been drilled into your head that your bride price, along with other gifts of good will and an alliance with another clan, would single handedly revive your dying clan. To be fair, you could see the logic. You only wished you didn’t have to sacrifice every aspect of your life.

But maintaining your beauty was a show of wealth. Your Blessed Womb would be plenty to secure everything the clan needed. With it, even if you had one eye and three noses, you’d have a barrage of suitors.

What’s more, doctors concluded that your unnaturally high output of cursed energy was the key component in your mother’s death during your birth. Grandmother hadn’t done anything about it yet, but it was the general consensus that if you had a strong control of your own technique, your chances of surviving childbirth were much higher. There was just that one final push to force your grandmother to relinquish control of you.

“Those curses didn’t break through our defenses,” you say in realization. “You let it in. That’s how Mr. Yaga was here.”

Gojo doesn’t turn back, but you can see his cheeks shift with his smile.

“Dunno what you’re talking about,” he says.

“That’s why you were late today,” you say quietly. A pit grows in your stomach. “You were setting all this up.”

He squeezes your hand and guides you into your bedroom. He lets you go and flops onto your bed, arms and legs spread like a starfish.

“I promised I’d help you be free of this estate one day. Remember what you said to me a couple years ago?” he asks.

Forcing yourself to move, you pull out the necessities and throw them on the bed. “Not really, no.”

“You said, and I quote,” he took on a high-pitched falsetto, “”If I spent all my time waiting for a man to rescue me, I’d never get anything done.” Do you remember that?”

Vividly, but you decide he doesn’t need to know that. You already gave him a free pass for that piss poor imitation of you. You grab a few select pieces of your favorite hair accessories.

“Sort of,” you reply.

“All I did today was give you an opportunity.” His eyes, the color of the heavenly sky, focus on you. “Congratulations, my twin flame. You rescued yourself tonight.”

~~

(A/N: Will this get more parts? Probably. Lmk what you think and thanks for reading <;3)

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader

[phntmeii]

♡ Dating Bo and Vincent Sinclair Headcanons:

❝ She always said your talent would make up for what God took away from you. ❝

[SFW Headcanons]

Pairings: Artist!Reader x Vincent Sinclair. FemBimbo!Reader x Bo Sinclair.

Warnings: Slight pervert!Bo Sinclair, Mentions of kidnapping+murders, Manipulation.

A/N: Sinclair Twins are some of my new favs. They are so delectably made I can’t- So here are headcanons BUT with describing what their specific types are instead of keeping it vague. Also, I view Vincent as a selective mute who’s vocal chords are a bit fucked up so he only speaks a few times a day so not a complete mute.

Vincent Headcanons:

✎ Vincent hasn't had any dating experience so much of what he knows is from what Bo has told him which didn't make it interesting in his eyes. But when he sees you, all he wants to do is admire you for whatever reason.

✎ He’d specifically go after you and be the first victim he’d kidnap rather than outright kill.

✎ He tries to convince you he isn’t dangerous (to you) and does little things to prove it. Showing off his drawings, playing music for you, writing notes and letters to you.

✎ Vincent would honestly come off strong because he doesn’t understand how fast or slow a relationship to go. The moment he spotted you, you were already his in his mind.

✎ When you fall for him despite his masked face and silent behaviors, you adjust and get used to him. After all, he wasn’t bad at all. He’d keep you in his room which was tidy and neat as his mother taught him, he’d make sure you were completely taken care of and he was sweet in his little notes.

✎ Vincent’s handwriting is perfect as he was taught to do. His notes would be a little formal but adorable things to find before he slinks away to his studio. “Hello, Y/N. I hope you are adjusting well. :) I wanted to know what foods you like so I can tell Bo to make them. Please write back before lunchtime.”

✎ When he discovers you were an artist as well, he was giddy and excited! Someone who knew what it was like to cycle through ideas and fixate on a project for hours on end.

✎ His few words he’d speak a day would be regarding your own art. No matter what it was, he’d tell Lester to get you the supplies for it and watch over you as you worked.

✎ His ragged and hoarse voice spoken into your ear. “Beautiful…”

✎ He’d randomly gift mini wax sculptures of your favorite animals each week that he worked on between sculptures. Each one better and better than the last.

✎ Vincent thrives on your praise. Sweet boy can’t help but lower his head and blush under his mask at each compliment.

✎ His favorite thing about morning routines were when you’d touch and brush his hair. The massaging at the scalp and tingly feeling he’d get as the brush ran down his black strands felt all too good. He’d also let you do whatever hairstyle you wanted.

✎ Vincent would draw you constantly in his sketchbook. He has pages and pages of different angles of your face, what clothing you wore on a certain day or how you posed during breakfast.

✎ Any and I mean ANY sketches you give him in return? He’s holding onto it like it’s pure gold. He hangs it in his studio where he’s at the most to view it all the time.

✎ Trusts your critiques and observations more than anyone else’s and often asks for your opinion on his pieces.

✎ Doesn’t believe that you like his face without the mask but when he sees you present him with a sketch of his half-mutilated face, he’s stunned. To see him, the truest version of him, as something you deemed worthy to spend time depicting absolutely melts him. He starts to become more willing to remove his mask around you especially if it means he’ll get more drawings like that.

✎ Bo would want so badly to tease Vincent for how he acts around you since Vincent is absolutely infatuated but Bo and Lester find it adorable and are happy Vincent found someone despite everything.

✎ He would definitely want to do those heart hands or hand holding wax molds with you and keep it on his desk.

Bo Headcanons:

> This man’s perfect woman has to be a bimbo, I’m sorry. Someone who is perfectly stupid to overlook some toxic qualities to him and won’t suspect any of his more… violent hobbies.

> Doesn’t have to be the stereotypical busty, all-pink wearing bimbo but just a pretty but airheaded girl.

> He’d originally plan on killing you when you showed up saying your car broke down. You were pretty but so were some other victims who had come through Ambrose. But that dumb factor? Oh, now he’s all in.

> Absolute charmer and reels you in and away from the rest of your group. He’d keep making up reasons as to why you should stay for longer than lie about where your group went.

> He’d keep you sat in the gas station, seeing you so easily entertained. He’d put on that charming smile and tuck your hair behind your ear. “Seems like everyone left you behind, sweetheart. How about you stay jus’ a bit longer, hm? Still need to fix up that car a’ yours, don’t we?”

> He does absolutely use your ditzy and air-headed nature to his advantage to tease because who is he if not a teasing charmer?

> “Aww, sugar, there ain’t much goin’ on in that pretty little head a’ yours, is there?”

> He has purposefully done something to make you trip so he can catch you and make it into a whole romantic scene.

> Absolutely brags to Vincent and Lester about how perfect his girlfriend is.

> He cannot get enough of you at the end of the day. He may have gone into it looking to just use you but consider yourself a charmer as well because he’s soon completely enraptured.

> He enjoys watching you get ready in the morning. Bo will get distracted himself and end up just watch you do your makeup for ten minutes, admiring how pretty you look for him.

> NOTHING BUT PRINCESS TREATMENT!!! He can be toxic and a tease but he likes to be a gentleman too.

> He’s kneeling to put on your shoes on for you, kissing up your leg as he does. He keeps a hand on your back to guide you as you two walk together. Don’t even think about paying for anything because his hand is already in his pocket, ready to pay.

> Bo spoils you rotten. He can’t help it when you smile so sweetly at him that it’s honestly unfair. Sometimes it’s stuff at the store other times it’s stuff he stole from a victim before they met their end. You wouldn’t know, of course, so it’s always a sweet thing.

> If he’s buying you clothes, he’s picking out the tightest options so he can see your body constantly. He’s already turned on constantly by you but he wants to have you all dolled up for him always.

> Although sometimes it can be annoying to have you be so oblivious, he resists any direct insults or rude names since he knows you’ll take it to heart. He never wants to see you upset.

> He knows how much you love his Southern accent and dials it up to 11 with sweet pet names when he needs you for something.

> “Sweetheart, do me a favor an’ pass me the wrench? S’got the blue handle, honey, you know which one.”

> Favorite thing he’s seen you do is when you stole his clothing and became a mini-Bo. Wearing his hat and a jumpsuit all proud of yourself and he couldn’t help but chuckle and claim you should dress like that more often so people know you’re all his.

⤷ divider credits: @cafekitsune

#house of wax #house of wax 2005 #slasher fucker #slasher #slashers #slasher x reader #slasher headcanons #slashers x reader #bo sinclair #vincent sinclair #vincent sinclair headcanons #bo sinclair headcanons #ugh they’re simply so babygirl i can’t #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x you #bo sinclair x y/n #vincent sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x you

[skz-streamer]

2023 VMA's

<- BACK TO MASTERLIST

<- EVENTS TAB

Pairing: ot8 (skz) x fem!reader (9th member)

Genre: Fluff?, Crack? Idol Au

Warnings: suggestive kinda, a small mention of nudity with some outfits.

Notes: When I was watching the VMA's I KNEW I AHD TO DO SOMETHING. sooo here it is :) I realized I forgot to add their interview in here but whatever, also thing is literally all based off of Bongos because of their reactions to that performance LORDDD FUNNY AS HELL. so yea... im also insanely obsessed with them...

Summary: 2023 VMA's turned out to be a little funnier then you thought they would be.

-please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately face claims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people

Word count ~1.8k ;)

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

As the van pulled up to the annual 2023 VMA's, the excitement among you and your fellow members of Stray Kids was palpable. This was a momentous occasion, the first time the group had the privilege of attending the prestigious awards show. The energy in the vehicle was infectious, a mix of nervous anticipation and uncontainable joy.

Inside the van, you couldn't help but admire the transformation of your fellow members. They were all dressed to the nines, their stylish suits and glamorous ensembles adding to the aura of excitement that filled the air. Hyunjin, in particular, had undergone a striking change for the occasion. He sported a fresh undercut, a hairstyle he had been yearning to try for a long time. The change suited him perfectly, adding to his already striking appearance.

As the only female member of Stray Kids, you knew that all eyes would be on you, so you had taken extra care with your outfit. You were dressed in a stunning Lapel blazer top button slit skirt set, which you had carefully chosen for the occasion. The top was a sleek black with slightly puffed-out shoulders, a V-neck with a stylish collar, and two buttons at the bottom. It exuded confidence and sophistication. The skirt, on the other hand, was a bit more daring. It hugged your body tightly, emphasizing your curves. It featured a daring slit that ran from the middle of your thigh down to your ankles.

Your choice of outfit had raised some eyebrows, with both the stylists and some of the boys expressing concern that it might be showing too much skin. However, you were quick to defend your choice, reminding them that VMA fashion was all about pushing boundaries and making bold statements. Growing up in the United States, you had been a dedicated fan of the VMA's for as long as you could remember. You had spent years watching the show, voting online, and dreaming of the day when you would be a part of it. Now, that dream had become a reality, and you were determined to make a memorable entrance.

As the van rolled towards the VMA venue, the nervous tension among you and the boys was prominent. Small talk filled the air, a feeble attempt to ease the apprehension that gripped each of you. It was clear that this was a significant moment, one filled with both excitement and trepidation.

You could sense the jitters in the van, a stark contrast to the exuberance that had filled it earlier. The boys were fidgeting, adjusting their suits, and stealing glances at each other. You, too, had thought that stepping onto the pink carpet would dissolve your nervousness, but as the van pulled up and the doors swung open, you were greeted by a frenzy of flashing cameras and enthusiastic shouts.

Cameras flashed from every direction, capturing your every move. The carpet was a vibrant sea of celebrities, some of whom you had admired for years. Your heart raced as you recognized familiar faces, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of fangirling yourself. The sheer star power in the vicinity was overwhelming.

As you walked through the barricades and onto the pink carpet, you were swiftly directed to your designated spot, and the command to smile was given. Your outfit, though daring, suddenly seemed rather modest compared to some of the ensembles on display. Megan's netted, see-through dress and Cardi's low-cut attire were enough to make anyone do a double-take. The boys' jaws nearly hit the ground, especially when Jeongin accidentally bumped into Doja Cat, who was rocking an absolute see-through dress.

Jeongin stammered an apology, and Doja Cat simply smiled and continued on her way. The boys' expressions were priceless, a mixture of shock, amazement, and perhaps a touch of embarrassment. You couldn't help but at their shared amused look, one that communicated, "Did you see her outfit?!"

You didn't need words to convey your thoughts; you your raised eyebrow and rolled your eyes, the boys interpreting it as an “I told you so virgins”, one of your most used lines. The boys understood, and though they didn't say it out loud, their sheepish grins and laughter betrayed their astonishment. Clearly, they were not entirely prepared for the bold fashion choices that often graced the VMA pink carpet.

As you made your way inside the building and found your seats, you realized that you weren't in the front row, but you were still pretty close to the stage. The excitement continued to build within you as you looked around at the familiar faces in the audience. Growing up watching these artists and admiring their work, you couldn't wait for the performances to begin. The nerves from earlier had started to fade, replaced by a sense of anticipation and wonder.

The atmosphere inside the VMA venue was electric as you and the boys chatted excitedly before the performances began. You took the opportunity to introduce some of the artists to them, explaining their music and significance. While most of the artists were already familiar to the boys, you could tell they were particularly excited about Demi Lovato's performance. It wasn't a surprise, given that you had caught them listening to their music in the practice room on multiple occasions, either vibing or dancing.

You, on the other hand, were eagerly anticipating the performances by Cardi B and Megan Thee Stallion. Their recent collaboration on the song "Bongos" had become one of your favorites, and you couldn't wait to see if they would perform it live. You had a feeling it would be a showstopper.

The show began with NLE Choppa and Nelly, delivering a bold and energetic opening performance. The boys were starting to get into the groove of the VMA's, and you couldn't help but chuckle at some of their flustered moments during the performance, especially when there was some intense "ass-shaking" involved. It was undoubtedly a cultural difference they were experiencing.

As the night continued, you watched Olivia Rodrigo's performance, knowing that Felix was a fan of hers. You couldn't help but notice the reactions of your members to her high notes, particularly Han's expression of awe.

Then came the moment you had been waiting for—Cardi B and Megan Thee Stallion's performance of "Bongos." You knew that the boys were in for a surprise, especially with the explicit lyrics and slang used by the two artists. You were sitting next to Changbin, who seemed engrossed, a smirk playing on his lips. You were equally captivated by the performance, and you and Han matched each other's energy as you sang along to the lyrics. You were well-versed in the song, so you had no qualms about singing the explicit parts.

The boys' reactions were priceless. Felix and Chan, who were fluent in English, appeared somewhat surprised by the lyrics, but they couldn't look away from the mesmerizing performance. Jeongin's mouth hung open, and Hyunjin and Changbin were engrossed in a hushed conversation, probably trying to decipher some of the slang. It got so loud that toward the end, both Changbin and Hyunjin turned to face the wall, clearly flustered.

You couldn't resist teasing them, tapping their shoulders and playfully saying, "You don't gotta look away; their sexiness is part of the whole performance. It's the whole point." Your giggle and their embarrassed reactions were amusing.

Seungmin and Minho, although harder to see from your vantage point, likely had similar reactions. The whole scene was a mix of awe and embarrassment, and you couldn't help but laugh heartily at their expense.

The performance concluded with everyone turning back, their faces flushed red. You continued to chuckle and pat them on the shoulders, thoroughly entertained by their reactions. Han was right there with you, and the two of you had a blast throughout the entire performance.

When Demi Lovato took the stage, the boys went wild, fanboying over their incredible talent. It was a joy to witness their enthusiasm.

Later in the evening, awards were announced, and you and the boys engaged in random conversations. Your ears perked up when they discussed K-pop awards, and you paid close attention. You knew that TXT was also nominated and set to perform, so there was an element of nervousness in the air.

Then came the moment you least expected—they announced Stray Kids as the winners! It was your group! The shock initially left you in a daze, and you stumbled slightly on your way to the stage, but Changbin caught you, saving you from a potentially embarrassing fall.

Walking onto the stage with your fellow members, your mind felt fuzzy. Was this real? Chan and Felix took a few words, expressing gratitude and excitement. You chipped in with your thanks here and there, the elation clear in your voice.

----- Backstage

The anticipation backstage was palpable as your performance was up next. You couldn't contain your excitement, even though you had initially pitched a mashup of songs that you believed would be iconic. You had suggested blending "Hall of Fame," "S-Class," and "Super Bowl" into a medley, envisioning a performance that would leave a lasting impression. The combination of "Hall of Fame's" grandeur, the seductive whispers of "Super Bowl," and the catchy vibes of "S-Class" seemed like a recipe for an unforgettable show. However, it seemed that your idea had been outvoted, and the group settled on a remix instead.

Nonetheless, you were determined to give it your all. Backstage, you and your fellow Stray Kids members exchanged reassuring glances, a silent reminder that you were a team and that you had prepared for this moment together.

As you stepped onto the stage, the spotlight illuminated you, and the nerves threatened to shake you. Your heart pounded, but you focused on the task at hand. You were dressed in a short top with gold buttons, paired with shorts, and an undershirt with a yellow print that matched Han's outfit. The stage lights were blinding, but you pushed through the nerves.

The music started, and you gave it your all. Singing loudly and pouring all your energy into your dance moves, you felt the adrenaline rush through your veins. The crowd's cheers and screams were deafening, and that only fueled your determination. The energy in the venue was incredible, and it was a testament to the love and support of your fans.

As the performance reached its climax, you executed the choreography flawlessly, ending with a dramatic head tilt before turning your back to the audience. You were out of breath but exhilarated. It was a performance to remember, and the applause and cheers from the audience were music to your ears.

You resisted the urge to turn around and gauge the audience's reactions. Instead, you noticed Seungmin doing the same. Smiles exchanged between the two of you, a shared moment of pride and satisfaction. You both walked off the stage with the rest of the boys, following the well-rehearsed exit routine.

Despite the exhaustion, you felt a sense of accomplishment and euphoria. The performance had been tiring, but it had been worth it. The rush of being on stage, sharing your music with the world, and feeling the love from your fans was an experience like no other. You couldn't help but love every moment of it. The car ride home was gonna be fun.

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

Taglist: @eee5533 @mixtape-racha @cherry-edibles @ren0325 @felixvsp @hwangrimi @sanriiolino @painstakingly-juno @herarcadewasteland @dabiscrustyfeet @kai-lee08 @sungiesoonie @slvtty4channiee @revelaffee @staygirl86 @chlodavids

If you wanna be added click here :)

#stray kids #skz 9th member #9th member of skz #9th member of stray kids #skz ot8 #skz scenarios #skz minho #jisung skz #skz changbin #bangchan #lee felix #lee know #jeongin #seungmin skz #hanjisung #stray kids hyunjin #skz x female reader #skz x reader #skz x you #skz x y/n #skz x 9th member #skz vmas #stray kids 9th member #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids jisung #stray kids minho #stray kids changbin

[anonymouspuzzler]

"this is just fanart" disclaimer cause I feel the need to make that super obvious now LMAO, but! little WH doodles from recent!

[Image IDs/transcripts under cut!]

[Image 1 ID: A black-and-white Welcome Home fan-comic. It stars Julie Joyful (a "rainbow monster" puppet that looks like a Muppet girl with noodly limbs, little nub horns, and long hair styled in a high ponytail, wearing a dress with a hoop skirt and puffy sleeves and a scarf tied in a bow), Frank Frankly (a puppet with a long, cylindrical body, long nose, thick eyebrows, black hair with a middle part, and a comically exaggerated frown, wearing a plaid vest and butterfly-shaped bow-tie), and Eddie Dear (a mailman puppet with a heavyset-yet-soft build, square jaw, thick eyebrows and long eyelashes, wearing a mailman's uniform with a parcel bag and rainbow tie).

The first panel shows Julie and Frank talking, with Frank's back to the viewer. Julie, smiling smugly and gesturing with one pointer finger and the other hand on her hip, says "If I run and jump at Eddie, he will surely catch me in his arms!" Frank replies simply, "Don't do that."

The second panel shows Eddie walking in, carrying a stack of packages in his left arm and holding up several letters in his right hand. He shouts "Mail call here f-Oh No", interrupting himself with a shocked smile as Julie runs towards him flapping her arms, screaming "EDDIE EDDIE EDDIE CATCH ME EDDIE C'MON QUICK EDDIE CATCH EDDIE EDDIE EDDIE EDDIE". Frank, back still to the viewer, watches with shock with his hands raised in the air.

The third panel shows Eddie having indeed caught Julie, holding her up with both arms and an anxious expression. The packages he was holding have all fallen to the ground around him, and several of the envelopes are still fluttering to the ground. Julie is completely oblivious to Eddie's distressed, kicking her legs in the air excitedly, cradling Eddie's face with one hand and waving to Frank with the other. Frank watches in silent, stunned disbelief. End ID.]

[Image 2 ID: A colored image of Eddie Dear and Wally Darling (a smaller, yellow puppet with a large dark blue pompadour hairstyle and calm smile, wearing blue cardigan sweater over a button-up shirt, rainbow striped pants, and saddle shoes with hearts on the soles). Eddie is holding up Wally with both hands; Wally has his arms out to the sides and legs slightly bent at the knees. Both are smiling open-mouthed at each other, Wally relaxed yet warm, Eddie delighted yet slightly stunned. There are envelopes fluttering to the ground and scattered all around Eddie, with an arrow pointing to him reading "dropped all the mail". End ID.]

#anonymous puzzler art #partycoffin #welcome home #long post / #i've fallen in love with eddie a little bit but specifically in a wlw/mlm solidarity kind of way. please understand. thank you #i like that he's shaped like a fridge you can hug. i think that's very good of him #also: wally is very Holdable and that's just a scientific fact i am constantly thinking about a little bit.

[rose-stems]

pretty- like a doll

sanji x reader that wears frilly cute dresses but is a badass

“So pretty,” Sanji thought*, “like a little doll.”*

Those were the first thought’s Sanji ever had about you.

The first thing he noticed was your pretty pink dress, matching shades of white and pink fabric. Fit to match a ribbon in your hair, holding it in a hairstyle half up.

The next thing he noticed, was the way you walked. Feet pointed and graceful but with the excitement of a baby dear skipping around. You bounced up and down, hair and dress flowing perfectly with your movements.

He was so stunned from gazing at you that he stood completely still, hands full of the bread he was planning to drop off at that crews table.

The table you were walking to.

Oh.

Oh.

“Thank God.” Sanji thought helplessly,

There was a surging need to speak with you, one that Sanji had like no other. No one ever commanded his attention like you did and you hadn’t even spoken to him. He felt a bit pathetic, to be so deeply interested in you in only a matter of seconds.

His attention was quickly grabbed again when you politely turned to the green-haired man sitting on the far left. You opened your mouth—*those pretty, pretty lips—*to speak and his ears zeroed in on your voice, picking apart its soft undertones, distinguishing it from every other sound in the restaurant.

“Zoro,”—the green-haired man, Sanji assumes—”you didn’t wake me up.” You chastise him and Sanji feels himself be ripped apart at the seams.

The man replies but Sanji can’t make out his words. His ears are tuned to you and your sound only. The next sound you make is light and airy, a tiny giggle bubbles up and you tilt your head cutely. He wants to fall to his knees.

“C’mon, Zozo, don’t be like that.” You say and then wait, staring down at the man (because in this moment, you are taller.) and rocking slowly on the balls of your feet.

The man seems to pick up on the unsaid message and moves to stand up, grabbing his swords to help the process. You give him some space as he moves out and to the side and then cutely grab your dress, fabric lifting and exposing pearly white ruffles. You’re stunning, a picturesque form blessed by Aphrodite herself.

You sit down and take a few seconds to make yourself comfortable, letting the man wait until you’re ready—as he should. You adjust the fabric so when the man sits back down he doesn’t sit on it.

You face the green-haired man and your face lights up. It shines and your cheeks are full and pink as you smile brighter than the moon and her stars. Your gorgeous, beautiful, adorable, cute, you are so many things all at once and it hits Sanji harder than anything he’s ever seen.

“Thank you.” You say.

And his knees buckle, the feeling of weightlessness snaps Sanji to his senses. He’s been doing nothing but standing in the middle of the Baratie, staring at you like a creep.

He rushes to an isolated place, dropping the plate of bread on the counter of the bathroom. He steadies himself against the counter and tries to will his lungs to work.

Thoughts long forbidden rise up in his mind.

Thoughts no gentleman should ever have about a woman as cute as yourself.

About how he’d love to see your pretty face morph into something dirty and pleasure filled. How he would love to hear the different sounds you’d make. Would you squirm? Oh, god he hopes so-

He thinks about how fucking hot you looked as you confidently gazed at the green-haired man. Demanding and silent, waiting patiently to be treated like how you deserve. Commanding in a way so opposite of how you dressed, commanding in a subtle way, a petite way. But confident, oh so confident and strong and hot.

Fuck.

A stumbled out groan reaches up his throat before he forces it down, covering his mouth in shame.

“Get. It. Together.” He thinks, “You still need to go actually serve them.”

He still needs to serve you. Serve…you.

Yeah, he can do that.

He takes a few deep breaths to calm himself. This is a staff bathroom, one which could be locked from the inside and he takes comfort in that. At least no one can come in and see how utterly pathetic he is over just seeing you. He hadn’t even spoken to you, but oh, he wanted to.

He turns the tap on and splashes some water on his face, the coolness helps him bring feeling back into his cheeks.

Feeling better—more focused and less likely to fall apart—Sanji picks up the bread and leaves the bathroom.

The first thing he does is head into the kitchens, dumping the bread onto a platter to reheat and quickly fixing up another appetizer. He doesn’t think about how he was banned from the kitchen and only hopes Zeff doesn’t walk in. Not that he’d truly regret it, you deserve a better appetizer for waiting so long. When he’d done he has two nice hot plates, the main appetizer and the reheated bread.

Before heading out of the kitchen he stops to gather himself. He feels a creeping sense of shame for how… how he froze. Yes, how he froze up. To serve yo… your table, he needs to at least have a sense of dignity.

How could he be a good server if he kept getting distracted by your beauty?

How could he sweep you off your feet if every time he looked at you the breath knocked out of him?

With a push of the door he went out into the floor. Eyes sweeping the room once before falling onto you, you were chatting animatedly with the green-haired man and a beautiful woman next to you. He almost felt bad about interrupting you. Almost.

“Hi, welcome to Baratie. My name is Sanji, what can I get for you?” He spoke slowly, casting a passing glance at those who sat at your table.

There was the green-haired man with three swords, Zoro, you called him, and a beautiful red-haired woman next to you. On the other side of the table, a little man with a straw hat in overalls and a young man wearing an open shirt.

The straw hat man was currently stuffing his face with bread.

#black leg sanji #sanji x reader #sanji one piece #vinsmoke sanji #one piece #one piece x reader #op sanji #one piece sanji #i!! am nervous to post this! #I do have a lil bit of a continuation after this #i also have a smut between these two #maybe ill post that #if yall want it <3 #gomez.writing

[lonelystarrs]

Tugs & Texts

Barou Shouei x FemReader

With how you’d both met at twelve and how you promised to make his life hell in school no one would have guessed you’d be dating at sixteen. At eighteen Barou left for Blue Lock and you both started learning it wasn’t going to be as easy as you thought. But there you were, always support him in every sense with your quirky ass ways. Distance makes the heart grow fonder, it also makes tension rise in the best fucking way. You’d be the death of him he was sure of it.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI • Blue Lock timeline • both virgins • phone sex • smut • fluff • Barou is smitten • size kink •

If people knew how you met Barou then they’d never have guessed he’d eventually be the one to start dating you. Kicking a ball into his face at the age of twelve because he was apparently bullying another kid. Barou called it ‘saying it how it was to save them making a fool of themselves in the future’, you called it mean, egotistical and bullying. It wasn’t the most romantic story to tell on how you both met, sure, but you still laughed telling it. 

But that was how it happened.

He said some mean shit to your friend about his uselessness at soccer and you went absolutely fucking not. 

He was impressed by the power and accuracy of the strike, none the less from a girl and the fact you’d caught him off guard. 

Barou Shouei was a ripe asshole of a person long before his age made double digits and you simply didn’t stand for it.

You promised you’d make his life hell since that day and you left little twelve year old him stood dumb founded with a nose bleed and his heart kicking in his ribs. 

It developed over the years, the constant bickering —god the teachers hated you both in the same class, apart from that one art teacher that seemed to know something no one else did, but that part will come in a sec. 

It pissed him off at the start with how you never backed down to him and never got upset with his ways —as he got older it got weirdly fucking endearing. 

So endearing in fact that his teenage mind and hormones started to act up changing his view on you. He tried to remain stubborn, truly he did, acting like you were a pain in his ass and nothing more. 

But he wasn’t the only teenage boy with boiling hormones and a mind quickly adapting to it… So when other guys also started taking notice of how much prettier you were getting, how your body started to change that’s when it became an issue for Barou. 

He absolutely wasn’t developing feelings for you —it was purely hormones and he was human much to others denial of it. 

But that’s where the art teacher stepped in, the only one brave enough to pair you and Barou together for a project. It caused silence in the class when she announced it, even the students stunned she’d make such a foolish choice. That evil glint in her eyes, her quiet evil cackle as she drummed her fingers together in her corner watching you together. 

That was also the day he started to really changed his mind on you, he still remembers it clearly. 

He fucking hated arts, it was messy and shit got everywhere. He didn’t have an artistic bone in his body either and he wasn’t about to try. 

You stepped in for him surprising him with how good you actually were at drawing, you picked up the charcoal and went for it. He just sat and watched you, red eyes softening as he really took a look at you. Your tongue poking out as you concentrated, your hair tucked behind your ear to keep from your eyes even though loose strands were falling from your messy bun. 

Your skirt riding higher than it should be, those thigh high socks causing a little dip in your thighs at the rim. He felt heat crawl up his neck and he cleared his throat looking back up to what the hell you were drawing. 

When you signed it off with a title and slid it over to him he realised what it was, his hairstyle was hardly unrecognisable so he knew it was him. 

You’d draw him in charcoal, striking a goal. 

‘The Kings Strike.’ 

That’s what you called it, you waved him off saying it was nothing and it was from his game last weekend. He found out you had photographic memory and he also found out you’d been attending his games. 

Just cause your girl friends wanted to go and cheer on the boys, but you only went to be social —apparently. Not interested in the sweaty men running around with egos over balls and nets. 

Your blabbering fell on deaf ears because it was difficult for him to ignore how black your fingers had gotten whilst smudging the charcoal. So he reached for his back pack and pulled out his trusty cleaning wipes, ignoring you laughing about his supply of them. The bell ringing was deaf on you as you watched Barou Shouei cleaning your hands of charcoal, his hands were so soft and warm, despite his rough personality he was gentle, thumbs massaging over your fingers to rub out the black stains. His eyes fixed on the task, then telling you to be at his game this coming weekend and to sit on the front row. 

He took the drawing, he still has it at home but it’s framed —you had no idea he’d done that.

Interactions started changing from then; he sat near you in most classes willing to pair up, his reaction to your taunting was less aggressive and you eventually turned into flirting with him covering it with humour. He always cleaned your hands after arts, he always corrected your uniform if it went out of line.

Then he started handing you water after PE telling your dumbass to keep hydrated and he glared at guys who tried coming up to you, never saying a word but Barou never had to. It was subtle to start with until it got so noticeable that rumours flying around that you were Barou’s girl and it didn’t take him long to let everyone know it was true. 

At sixteen Barou made his decision and told you to date him because he could tolerate you, hardly romantic but Barou wasn’t.

You left him alone for his soccer and respected his passion towards it, after all you never knew Barou any differently. It came first for him and you never asked for anything otherwise.

Everything was fine, surprisingly good actually and he was a great boyfriend. You swiftly both turning eighteen and that’s when lives started to take different paths. 

Him leaving for blue lock was a hard adjustment, you didn’t think it would be until he was gone with no contact, practically disappearing from your life without much notice which you really didn’t appreciate and let him know about it. 

It wasn’t nice, but not an adjustment you hated because he was doing him and you kept yourself busy for your studies. You’d never tell him how shitty the nights could be sometimes, how it did actually affect you more than you’d like to admit because he was chasing his dreams. Not like how you felt would ever stop him but you just didn’t think it would help anything. 

So you coped, you adjusted, you suffered in a way that he’d never know about because you didn’t think he needed to. Besides that was your problem to deal with, not his, you couldn’t rely on him all the time. It was unhealthy. 

Your phone was drier than his dry ass texts, because he wasn’t allowed access to it in Blue Lock. 

Until the day your phone did ring, Barou’s ID as clear as day on the lit up screen, gracing your eyes with him working out shirtless days before he left for Blue Lock. Your heart leaped into your throat and you answered it a little too keenly, almost dropping it as you slid the bar to answer.

Barou however wasn’t himself, he sat in the empty canteen alone, Isagi had left him after eating. Throughout his entire time here he had succeeded and even though him being stolen for Isagi and Nagi’s team wasn’t a bad move he still felt the affects of that match replaying in his mind days later. That shitty feeling of defeat was resurfacing, clawing at the back of his skull and churning something foreign in his stomach.

Truthfully, it shook him seeing Isagi and Nagi push him aside, a lesson learnt and a new drive for the king, sure. How you grow is from crap happening and he was fine with it. 

He learned from pain, he wasn’t wallowing but for some reason it niggled something in him that made him want to reach for you, for the first time in two years of dating you and five of knowing you. It made him think about you more, finding his mind drifted whilst training, like you not being around as much suddenly hit him at once.

So he cashed in his points and got his phone so he could close that gap that had formed. 

He barely spoke, letting you just talk because all he wanted was your voice, your weirdly cheerful personality and your annoying ass ability to make him feel better to work its magic. 

“So you cashed in points to get your phone back?” 

“Don’t flatter yourself,” 

“But I am flattered and I’m gonna remind you forever that you do actually miss me~! How could you not? It is me.” 

“An ego doesn’t suit you, lose it.” He grumbled, letting the smirk twitch at his lips and luckily for him you couldn’t see it. 

“You’re smirking right now.” 

Well that took it off his face. 

“Pahaha! Aw Barou~! I miss you too, seriously it’s shit but I know you gotta do this, so I’m here for you when you have a shit day.” 

“Tch, who said I’m having a shit day? Just callin’ cause I have to, this boyfriend crap is exhausting it’s been peaceful without you.”

“Well, m’phones been drier than a camels ass in a sandstorm so-“ 

“You’re disgusting, go get some fucking friends then loser.” 

“Pftttt says you, Mr I go to the bowling alley by myself.” 

“Fuck you.” 

“Hmm, I wish, still waiting for that y’know, kinda glad we didn’t do it before you left though, that woulda been real cruel.”

Barou fell silent down the line and it was your turn to smirk, twirling your hair around your finger you shifted on your bed. 

Got him. 

“Guessing you didn’t check your messages from me?” 

“No.” 

“Cute, you called me straight away~ missing your little virgin girlfriend waiting for you at home to be devoured by her king~” 

Barou inhaled sharply through his nose, he was glad he had his elbows on his knees and leaning forward. One hand holding the phone to his ear the other rose to pinch the bridge of his nose in an attempt to stop his mind wondering. His cock rising to a semi regardless, these joggers weren’t going to hide much either and he was still in the canteen.

“Suggest you look through the messages, it’ll help you whilst away.” 

“I can’t do shit, there’s no fucking privacy so stop being a damn tease.”

“Barou, you still in here?” 

Despite the male addressing him Barou heard your snicker down the phone, his jaw clenched, eye twitching and vein popping all signs his lack of patience was biting. Can’t these guys just fuck off? Seriously everywhere he looks they aren’t far away. 

“Well, I’ll let you go king~ keep devouring, keep pushing yourself and keep learning Barou. You’re gonna eat them alive and when you’re back, you can eat me alive again~! Turns out that unholy mouth of yours really does show me heaven~!”

“Woman-” 

Barou realised his mistake when he growled it out down the phone, red eyes instantly turning to Isagi and Chigiri who both rose an eyebrow at him, a smirk spreading over Isagi’s face. 

Sadly your loud laughter down the phone was heard by the eavesdroppers only confirming you were a female. 

“You called a girl?” 

“I find it hard to believe someone would actually be attracted to him.” 

The line went dead leaving Barou to look at the boring ass screen of his blank wallpaper. 

Frowning at it he suddenly realised despite knowing you since he was 12 and dating you for two years he had no photos of you. 

Isagi leaned over his shoulder and addressed the exact same thing going through the kings head. 

“No photos of her? C’mon show her off! She pretty?”

Chigiri also leaned over mildly curious as well. 

“I’m intrigued also, hard to believe someone like you has a girlfriend.”

“Fuck off you peasants!”

Barou stood abruptly and pushed the boys out the way, isagi sniggered and elbowed Chigiri. 

“I think he’s a little flustered.” 

Barou half turned, his form a shadow and red eyes glowing giving him some eerie ass look that wiped the smile from Isagi.

“What was that, donkey?”

“Nothing! I said I bet she’s real pretty.” 

“Damn fucking right she is, mention her again or to anyone else and I’ll kill you got it?” 

Isagi nodded trying to hide the smirk twitching on his mouth, Chigiri with his usual cool expression. 

“Reckon he’s a house husband? He definitely wears the maid outfit.” 

“Yeah, I can kinda see that.” Chigiri agreed, both their heads running through the images of him running the home like a maid “-I’d rather not though.”

Hands in pockets, slouched back he grumpily made his way down the hallway towards the bathing rooms, shutting himself in there and locking the door behind him. 

Unlocking his phone he went straight to your messages, ignoring anything else popping up on his notifications from having it off so long. He’d check your socials later, maybe, he’d prefer not seeing you carry on in life without him but he was also curious as to what you’d been up to. He’d been distracted and focused for weeks in here, it helped not thinking about you on the outside.

“Tch, fucking girl is gonna be the death of me.” 

He grumbled, scrolling through the texts you’d been sending him over the last few weeks, thankfully not everyday texts -every Friday you’d message him about your week, he’d skipped them for now as the picture messages were what caught his eyes. 

His cock was already semi hard from the phone conversation, mind running with the shit you’d put in there and how easily you got into his head about it. Cock hardening completely it bulged in his joggers as he seen what you’d sent. 

His heart raced in his chest, thumping so loudly he heard it in his ears, hot flushes running through his body as he watched the videos.

Your index and forefinger running over your clit before separating your lips to give him a full view, watching your drooling hole clenching around nothing. 

God your pussy was so fucking pretty, his mouth watered at the sight. Thumb frozen as it hovered over the screen watching you collect slick to run over your clit in circles, he dared turned the volume up slightly only to hear you moaning for him, hearing the squelch of your fingers pressing into your hole and he watched it stretch to accommodate them. 

You hadn’t slept together yet, but he knew how good you felt on his tongue and fingers like you did him. 

“Shit, this damn girl-“ 

Barou reached for the bottom of his sweater, lifting it to bite the end of it holding the material out of the way, exposing his six pack. Reaching down for the waist band of his joggers lifting hips to bring them down enough to release his cock, it slapped his stomach and he groaned, he was rock solid -weeks of refraining from any release due to the lack of privacy offered here. 

His hand wrapped around his thick head, thumb rubbing over the tip smearing his precum, he released a breathy moan as his thighs tensed. 

Barou wasn’t wasting any time in fucking into his fist —hard, horny and feeling feral about the idea of being the one to take you for himself. His pace matching your fingers as you fucked yourself for him on video. He didn’t last two damn minutes and he wasn’t trying to hold back, he tapped his cock against his stomach, getting more turned on by how hard his dick was.

“Cummin’ Barou!” 

He watched your hips lift from the bed, how you got the camera skills you had he didn’t want to know -but you didn’t miss anything, your hips rolled in the air as he watched your pussy clench around your fingers. 

His cock throbbed as he felt that build up reach its tipping point, he panted through his teeth and the material in his mouth, drooling into it. 

What really helped him finish was you pulling your fingers out, watching that clear cum cover your fingers and link to your dripping hole. The camera followed them as they travelled to your mouth, only your tits and mouth in shot as you smirked, cleaning off your own fingers tongue sliding between them making sure you didn’t miss anything. 

“Shit, fuckkk-“ Barou grunted, his legs straightened and his head rolled back to hit the wall behind him, heels digging into the floor to brace himself as he came, releasing into his hand and stomach as his body shook. 

His chest heaving as the release waved through his body leaving him lax, his cock resting on his stomach and he looked down at the damn mess. 

Tch. Looked good though. 

Accessing his camera he flipped it to selfie mode, he angled it down so you could just see his jawline, teeth biting into his shirt holding it out the way, cum covered his cock and hard stomach. His hand holding his dick which dripped cum still leaking from the slit, he could see his dick flexing as cum drooled from it.  His load was thick and almost too much -balls finally emptying from ignoring his needs. Cock softening but still looking thick and heavy even in his large hands. 

He’d been around enough guys in the baths here to know he was fucking big, even soft he was packing a dick. It only aided his smug ego when he thought about how you were going to struggle taking him, perhaps a little concerned he was going to actually hurt you. 

Barou > 1 image attachment

sent. 

Queen > ;) Good boy Barou. Knew it, you missed me~! 

Received 

Barou > See how cocky you are when you struggle with it. 

Sent

Queen > Yeah, it’ll be kinda hot though. 👀 

Received 

Barou > oi, send me that photo.

Sent 

Queen > I’ve just sent you loads! 

Recieved

Barou > One in the dress. 

Sent 

Queen > seriously? You’ve got all those lingerie photos and you want that summer one? It’s not even wank bank material. 

Received

Barou > that’s the fucking point dumbass, just send it!! 

Sent 

Barou locked his phone and cleaned up the mess he’d made, deciding he much preferred it when you were around to deal with it, instead he took another quick shower before heading back to the room. 

Checking his phone one last time to see your messages. Opening the attachment to find he got what he wanted. 

One of your friends had shot a photo of you during the summer, wearing a yellow sundress that hugged your waist, the skirt dancing around your thighs from the breeze, your hand holding it down and the other holding your straw hat to your head. 

The laugh on your face, your hair dancing around you. One spaghetti strap had slipped off your shoulder, tits pushed up from your arms pressing into them holding onto your dress to save your dignity from the breeze. Tanned summer skin standing out beautifully against the yellow dress, the gold necklace with a small dainty B sitting high on your neck. 

Long toned legs, thigh showing from the height of the skirt blowing up. Pretty short acrylic nails painted white like your toes for summer, hands just missing that ring he knew he’d put on you one day. 

It was the kind of photo that made him realise he was fucking smitten with you. 

He locked his phone again and shoved it under his pillow, arms crossing behind his head as he glared at the ceiling. The room was dark and others asleep to which he was grateful for because he knew his damn face was burning. 

God this was fucking pathetic. 

Your words of encouragement over the phone earlier repeated in his mind now he could think more clearly, the relief in hearing your voice again, seeing photos of you. His heart swelled in his chest, it took away that feeling he was unable to shake. 

His ego lowered for a split second and it allowed that voice to tell him what he’d been ignoring for weeks…

Yup, he missed your annoying ass. 

© pharix 2023 permission is not given to repost, translate or post anywhere else.

#blue lock barou #bllk barou #Barou shouei x reader #Barou x you #Barou x reader #barou shouei #barou shouei smut #bllk fanfic #bllk smut #Barou shouei fluff #barou fluff #bllk fluff #bllk x you #bllk x reader #barou shoei fluff #barou shoei #barou shoei x reader #barou shoei smut

[happeehippie]

instagram j.b.

summary: follow along with joe and his fiancée evie as they go through his football career.

* face claim is yasmin quintana*

series masterlist.

evie

liked by millyg, joeyb_9, and 873,190 others

evie: did some cowgirl shit

view all 2,739 comments…

millyg: yee frickin haw

> evie: bitches 🤠

user: NO WAY IS IT HAPPENING????

user: i was hoping this thing would get called off

joeyb_9: guess i better saddle up.

> evie: i’m coming home to you cowboy. 😉

user: no wait this is so cute

user: not ev in her cowgirl era

> evie: i fear it may be permanent

user: i cannot comprehend that you guys are so in love your getting married….

> user: wym you can’t comprehend it?? they’ve been together for like 7 years and are clearly very happy?

joeyb_9

liked by bengals, bose, and 912,054 others

joeyb_9: locked in #TeamBose

view all 5,108 comments…

user: this hairstyle is the best

user: ev is so lucky

> evie: like it truly doesn’t get better than this.

user: this is giving major top gun vibes

evie: i’m locked in on you. 🤪💗

> joeyb_9: 🌽

user: yalllll this man!

used: if you need consoling after this tough season hit my line

> evie: aw. i might take you up on that offer

> user: if there’s one things ev is going to do it’s make sure errrrrbody know joe is HER man

> user: no like its giving *insecure*

evie

liked by millyg, joeyb_9, and 910,002 others

evie: my mood for the foreseeable future..

view all 3,107 comments…

user: angel girl

user: she’s a stunnnnna

lahjay10_: if joe ain’t bring some of those cookies tomorrow we may have a problem

> evie: only the best for you jay

user: a ray of sunshine

joeyb_9: photo by me, socks from my closet, cookies homemade, your smile out of this world.

> evie: the man that you are…

user: i don’t know if im rooting for you or not

user: this doesn’t seem like lifestyles of the rich and famous

> evie: you’re looking in the wrong place for that content

joeyb_9

liked by bengals, evie, and 816,901 others

joeyb_9: my hands don’t look small here

view all 6,738 comments…

user: delete this my girl has ig

bengals: caption 🤌

user: you remember what them haters had to say

evie: let’s put them to good use. 😉

> user: EV! it’s too early to be spicy in the comments!

> user: nooo she’s getting some of that BDJ 🤣

user: i wasn’t prepared for this today

user: GOODNESS GRACIOUS

evie

liked by joeyb_9, bengals, and 520,091 others

evie: why is it always so cold in seattle?

view all 6,194 comments…

user: you’re giving pick me vibes

> evie: next time you’re looking for something to comment on, please, don’t pick me. (:

user: seattle is nice when it isn’t raining

user: period !!!

millyg: a moment for YOU 💗

> evie: i luv u.

user: these pics make seattle look bad

joeyb_9: the fit goes HARD

> evie: you can borrow it anytime 🤪

> joeyb_9: game day fit?

> evie: would def be top 5 of the season.

user: why are joe and ev always so goofy in the comments, and yall think they aren’t made for each other????

> user: no bc SAME! i don’t get why people think they aren’t a good fit. they’re obsessed with each other.

joeyb_9

liked by bengals, lahjay10_, and 730,726 others

joeyb_9: Dark Knight

view all 5,720 comments…

user: that’s my QB

joemainmixon: 🐐

user: you ain’t him

user: WAKE UP JOE POSTED

lahjay10_: (TOP 2) DAM SURE AINT 2! 🐐

> evie: TELL EM JAY

user: smash

evie: i think i need a hero… 🥵

> joeyb_9: i’ll be your knight in black shoulder pads.

evie

liked by millyg, joeyb_9, and 820,092 others

evie: big week 😳

view all 5,118 comments…

user: my favorite wag

user: if y’all actually are getting married im sick.

user: are you going to share what’s happening?

user: you look STUNNING

user: wym??

user: not prepared for what’s about to go down. i have a feeling.

joeyb_9: 👩🏽‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏼

> user: oh shit

user: not joe about to ruin his life if speculation is true

> user: wow everyone is supportive until you realize he really isn’t ever going to leave her for you. this is crazy behavior!

evie

liked by bengals, lahjay10_, and 1,737,026 others

evie: i think i like this little life.. 🤍

view all 15,829 comments…

millyg: and that’s MRS. Evangeline Burrow!

> user: not me just now finding out ev’s full name

> user: Evangeline??? Excuse me, that’s beautiful.

user: she doesn’t deserve it.

lahjay10_: we was TURNT TF UP!

user: i am sick with jealousy

bengals: The King and his Queen, congratulations!

user: only ring he will ever get but congrats

> user: marrying the love of your life is a bigger dub than the sb ever will be.

user: congrats!

sam_hubbard_: Finally!!

user: i knew it was coming and somehow i convinced myself he was smarter than this..

joeyb_9

liked by bengals, millyg, and 1,290,001 others

joeyb_9: Mr. & Mrs.

view all 8,628 comments…

lahjay10_: congratulations brudda!

user: most overrated player in the nfl

> user: bro can’t you let him enjoy his wedding?

user: congrats, now go get that other ring!

user: i give it a few months before they are done with each other.

> user: considering they’ve been together for almost a decade, i don’t see that happening

user: we all wish we were ev rn!

bengals: that’s our QB, you lucky boy!

user: another thing to distract him from winning the super bowl

user: not fair

millyg: i’m not crying, you are. jk i am crying. i’ve been crying all day.

user: he’s too famous for this, he will get sick of her.

evies ig stories:

#nfl #joe burrow #nfl imagine #bengals #cincinnati bengals #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow insta au #joe burrow instagram

[kittyball23]

Could you make a fanfiction of when Poppy surprised Branch that she was expecting to have a baby? And they tell all their friends and family the news? How would Branch react? And how would their family and friends react to the news too? I always imagine that they're excited to become parents, and so do their loved ones!? Could you do that? I also love the idea that their little girl had blue eyes, like her father's, Branch, indigo hair, and I imagined she looked like her mother, Poppy.

Hi! I wanted to break this up into 2 parts, this first one will be the siblings’ reaction to the news - I think Branch’s deserves a separate oneshot (I can’t say when I’ll have it ready for, as I do have a couple other requests from my Inbox to fill, but I hope you enjoy!)

Taking the News (a Trolls fanfic)

“AAAIIIIIIIYYYYYYYAIIIII!!!!”

Viva’s excited scream burst through the air, the Putt Putt Queen leaping a good couple feet up in an uncontained joy. The energy only doubled once she landed, waving her hands wildly about and gushing while she paced about and spoke a mile a minute. “OMIGOSH, OMIGOSH, OMIGOSH, I CAN’T BELIEVE IT!” She zipped over to Poppy and gently patted at her belly.

“Hello in there! It’s your Auntie Viva! Oh, I just know you’re gonna be so itty, and bitty, and cutie-wootie just like your Mommy was! AND I’M SO EXCITED TO MEET YOU!”

The Pop Queen giggled at her sister. “Veevs, I’m only a couple months. I’m not even sure if they can hear you yet!”

Branch on the other hand differed on this viewpoint. “After that scream? Yeah, they probably did.” Viva grinned sheepishly when she noticed the blue Troll rub his ears.

“Oh! I’m so sorry, Branch! It’s just that this is so, SO fantast-amazing!! Actually, it’s better than fantast-amazing! It’s fantast-AMAWESOME!” She squealed and bounced off to the side, expending her energy in one of the best ways she knew how - braiding! By the time her feet were back on the ground, it was Clay who was donning a brand-new French-braided hairstyle, topped off with little bows and glitter of all sorts of colors.

Clay groaned at how silly it looked. “Viva! Why me?” he whined.

Viva sprang to his side and gave him a playful punch on the shoulder. “Because you need to stop being a serious-boy grumpy-poo and get loose! My sis is gonna be a mom!! And your brother’s gonna be a dad!!” She celebrated by grabbing Clay in a tight hug and twirling him around.

When he was released, the lime-green-Troll found himself taking her advice, forgetting all about his hair and grinning broadly at Branch.

“Congrats, bro! I’m real proud of ya!” He fist-bumped the bashful blue Troll. Branch readied himself to reply, when he suddenly heard a sniffle. It came as no surprise that the Troll who had burst into tears was none other than Floyd.

“Oh, Branch, this is such a special thing! I’m honored to be an uncle, and I’m so happy for you…” He trailed off, a sob taking place where words failed him. He easily wept into Branch’s shoulder when his younger bro pulled him in for a hug.

“Thanks. I’m pretty psyched, too,” Branch agreed, smiling as he pictured their child. What would they look like? Perhaps they’d have his dark, indigo hair and sparkling blue eyes. Or they could be all Poppy, in gorgeous appearance and stunning personality. Or maybe their kid would inherit King Peppy’s orange skin tone, or Grandma Rosiepuff’s teal button nose. Branch’s head spun with all of the possibilities, each and every one perfect and plausible, until the reality of the situation weighed down on him. Being a father was a big responsibility. A flicker of doubt seemed to flash across his face right at that moment, which did not go unnoticed by Bruce.

The purple-haired Troll approached him and patted a hand on his back. “Hey, man, I know it can seem kinda scary at first - I know I was a little nervous for my first kid - but trust me, it becomes a breeze. And when it’s not, just call me for help! I got your back, bro.” He winked at Branch, making him feel a lot better. Bruce, after all, was an experienced dad, having fathered 13 kids of his own - all of who would become cousins to the new bundle of joy entering into his life.

John Dory suddenly swept in alongside them. “And me, too!”

Branch and Bruce gave him a curious look. “Wait… John, you’re a dad?”

JD’s jaw dropped. “Uh, yeah! You forgot? Man!” He strolled over to his caterbus, Rhonda, and patted her side lovingly. “It’s okay, girly,” he cooed, “they didn’t mean to forget about you, darling. Who’s the cutest caterbussy in the whole wide world? Huh? You are!”

Rhonda trilled in appreciation at John Dory’s sappy words, while Branch exchanged a look with his other brothers. While he wanted to point out that taking care of a caterbus was not all the same as it was taking care of a little Trolling, Branch couldn’t help but feel his own bout of appreciativeness towards his bro’s offer to help. Feeling playful, he grabbed JD with one arm and noogied him with the other, the pair of them laughing by the end of it.

Poppy and Viva in the meantime were having their own share of sisterly love, hugging and shrieking, and jumping up and down over the elation of it all.

“Ohhh, I can’t wait to tell everyone!” Poppy cried. “I’m gonna tell Bridget, and Biggie, and Mr. Dinkles, and Guy Diamond, and Satin and Chenille, and - “

“And Dad!” Viva cut in with a grin.

Poppy squealed. “Oh, my gosh!”

She and Viva shouted at the same time at the top of their lungs: “DAD’S GONNA FREAK!” Both girls burst into a fit of giggles just picturing the look on the elderly king’s face once the news hit him full force.

Viva bounced up and down once again and wrangled Poppy and the boys together.

“Aw, come here, guys! Group hug!” Arms enveloped Poppy and Branch from all sides in a flurry of limbs, letting the two happy parents know that they - along with their new kiddo - were indeed loved very dearly.

**********************************************************

A/N: Happy Thanksgiving!!

#trolls #trolls 3 #trolls band together #broppy #dreamworks #branch trolls #poppy trolls #viva trolls #brozone #john dory #spruce trolls #clay trolls #floyd trolls #fanfiction #kittyball writes #thanks for the ask! #kittyball answers #100+

[krypticcafe]

Hi! I love your writing sm!!! Could I request how the boys + könig would react to a reader with curly hair? (We’re talking tight, kinky coily curls)

COD:MWII Boys w/a curly-haired partner

rating: PG-13

character(s): GN!Reader, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, John Price, John "Soap" McTavish, Simon "Ghost" Riley, Gary "Roach" Sanderson, König, Hound

warning(s): none

a/n: aw thank you! And I love this request!! I'm not someone with curly, kinky hair, but I hear a lot about how they're super underrepresented. Even I'm tired of the "brushed his hand through your hair" or the "y/n with a messy bun/straight hair" bc PLEASSEE, my hair is a rat's nest, this would not work 💀 Anyways, I hope I did you justice and lmk if I got anything wrong!!

Gaz

Let's be honest, it's nothing new to him. He's experienced with coily, kinky hair, whether it be himself or his family or a friend.

I actually like to think he experimented with longer hairstyles before cutting it for military.

He gets you the most out of all of them, honestly. Knows exactly what you mean when you need a certain product or talk about maintenance, doesn't belittle you when you get upset over your hair, and helps a lot, too.

He doesn't have to do as much maintenance, so he doesn't use too much product, but sometimes he'll eye yours and make a note to try some for himself.

Since you and Gaz can trust each other, you sometimes have nights where you help style each other, just to spend some quality time.

Also yes, you guys have matching bonnets, it was actually his idea. You guys take so many pics together, too.

Gaz will notice if your hair looks healthier or fresher, and while he always thinks your curls are beautiful, he'll make extra compliments so that you know that he pays attention.

Oh, and if you do something special with it? He's all over you, all like, "What's the special occasion? Or am I just lucky today?"

Price

Your hair was one of the many reasons Price had noticed you so much, particularly because the military didn't really allow room for soldiers to do much with their hair and most have to gel it down if necessary.

When you tell him about the amount of care that goes into it, he starts thinking that his facial hair routine isn't so bad after all.

Once you get together, he starts looking into the product you need to get.

Unfortunately, he will have a bit of a hard time, so it's probably best if you show him the ropes for stuff like oils for protective styles, specific tools you use, etc. Otherwise, he'll be wandering around the aisle for a while. Please.

Sometimes, there'll be days where both of you guys take up the bathroom and go through your routines together, it's a pretty good way for him to learn your process and for you to learn his. There's a mutual respect.

Realistically, I don't think you would let either party take over for each other. At least, not for a long time.

If you put on a real nice outfit and let your natural hair out, oh this man will be on his knees, so use that information wisely.

Soap

Ooo, he's obsessed, I'm telling ya!!

Definitely gets stunned at how much it takes for you to take care of those curls, but not surprised that it's so difficult.

He does kinda wonder how you deal with it if you're someone that's on the battlefield.

You definitely had to tell him off for toying with it once, and he has stopped, but it's taking every inch of him to keep his ADHD ass from mindlessly twirling one between his fingers whenever you guys cuddle. But he isn't gonna do it! Unless you let him, then he loves how the texture feels.

You won't admit it, but sometimes you only let him touch it because of how happy it makes him, and you know he's being as respectful as possible.

He'll always be your #1 hype man too! Loves it when you experiment!!

You've definitely caught him wearing your bonnet multiple times, too.

One time, you decided to tease him by guiding him to help you detangle your hair, and frustration was absolutely worth it.

He got so pouty afterward when he had to give up, but you let him know he did a good job trying.

Ghost

He doesn't mean to be rude but he's definitely like "Can't be that bad."

And then you show him your grocery list.

It is that bad.

He gets frustrated and just buys one of everything, walking out of the store with like a dozen bags. He memorizes the ones you pick so there's that at least.

Don't mind him, he's just a bit blunt because he'll then ask, "Why don't you just cut/gel it?". Just explain it, and he'll respect your choice, though it intimidates him a little.

At one point, you're actually the one that lets him feel your hair, so he knows what it's like. He would never touch it unless invited, he's got too much self-control. People also become too intimidated by him to try to touch your hair too, so that's a plus.

It oddly soothes him, he likes how the texture feels on his fingers and especially when it's softer than usual.

One time, you used your own hand to help guide his through your hair, and oh man, was he flustered. Mans was glitching out for a few seconds.

Roach

He thinks your curls are so cute,

Like he literally can't stop watching you because of how they move when you walk.

On occasions where you let him touch it, you'll find that whenever you both are close to each other and really deep in an activity or conversation, he'll absent-mindedly roll a curl between his fingers.

His hands are good for many things, signing, fighting, and other fun stuff. Styling your hair is included!

One of his favorite things to do is help you find and try new styles with your hair. Roach loves looking up and researching about your hair type and what you can do with it, he finds it all super interesting!

Often buys you clips, beads, or whatever he thinks is pretty so you can try it on!

Loves to kiss your head because of how your hair tickles his face a little. He's been tempted to just bury his face in the back of your neck just to plant a bunch of kisses on more than one occasion.

On days where you put extra care into your curls, he's absolutely showing you off to everyone! He wants others to know how hard you worked to look so damn good!! (Gary says it's a full-time job, really)

König

Expect to find him staring all starstruck a lot.

Like a lot.

When you tell him it's your natural hair, he's surprised, he thought you just did a lot of work to make your curls so coily.

He once asked (very) politely if he could touch your hair, and because he was (extremely) nice about it, you let him.

Only for him to panic when the velcro from his glove got caught and he apologized a dozen times over. Afterwards, he treated you like porcelain, keeping his hands straight at his sides around you and acting like a spooked animal.

It got to a point where you had to confront him and tell him it was an honest mistake, and he didn't have to apologize which made him apologize more.

On the other hand, König enjoys watching you do your hair, just sitting there quietly with the occasional question. Sometimes, he helps comb your hair, but that's the most he'll let himself do since he doesn't want to mess things up.

Really loves how your products smell.

While he thinks you look amazing no matter what, he likes it best when you go natural.

Hound

Knows a lot more than you expected. They aren't well-versed, but they know more than the average person when it comes to the deal with kinky hair.

They'll go out with you on shopping trips and often help you pick out scents, one that you like but one that isn't too sensitive for their nose, it's something you didn't expect them to enjoy so much.

You can trust her to always have stuff on hand for you if you live separately or in different quarters. Oils, creams, custards, moisturizers, a hair pick (all from your fave brands, of course), she's got you.

He surprises you again when you come home one day, way too tired to do your routine, so he offers to do it for you.

If this was a test, they passed!! They even knew how to brush your hair the right way not to damage it and had already refilled some of your stock.

After that, you often find him helping on wash days when you're far too exhausted, as his way of pampering you. His favorite thing is doing your edges.

Her scary dog privileges also help ward off weirdos trying to touch your hair, and much like Soap, she hypes you up regardless if it's a frizzy day or a special occasion.

Expect them to be mildly addicted to the way your hair smells, it's literally one of their comforts because of how much it reminds them of you.

#x reader #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #call of duty #cod #codmwii #codmw2 #call of duty modern warfare 2 #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #captain price x reader #john price x reader #soap x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #könig x reader #roach x reader #gary roach sanderson x reader #task force 141 x reader #hound x reader

[joestvr]

beach day || jotaro x reader

~~ copied and pasted from a flashback in my wattpad story pls read ~~ link: ore no kokoro - jotaro x reader - jotaros biggest fan - Wattpad

After Dio was defeated, everyone wanted to stay in Egypt a couple more days to relax and enjoy themselves.

One sunny day in Cairo, Joseph had finally convinced Jotaro and Kakyoin to take their school uniforms off and into some swim trunks to head to the beach.

When you finally arrived, the beach was filled with people.

You found a perfect spot in the sand. "Over here, guys!" You yelled, waving your hands in the air. The men noticed and came over, setting down their towels and putting up a large umbrella.

Kakyoin took his white collared shirt off, revealing his toned chest with a large scar right in the middle of his abdomen. "Is it getting hot in here, or is it just me!" You pretended to fan yourself, smirking.

You took off your tank top and skirt, showing your f/c bikini. "Damn, girl!" Polnareff took out the cigarette he had in his mouth and whistled.

"Too gorgeous!" Kakyoin did the same, clapping.

Jotaro was stunned. You looked.. too attractive. He was bewitched. You walked up to him and snatched his hat off of his head, running away as you laughed. "Catch me if you can, Jotaro!"

He finally caught up to you and got a hold of you, a grip on your waist. He scoffed and put the hat back on his head. "Yare yare daze."

You and him walked back to the group. "Come on, Jojo, the water is perfect!" Kakyoin shouted. "Why?"

"Please?" You took his big hand and looked up at him pleadingly. He sighed. "Fine." He took off his hat and set it beside Joseph, who was lounging, then his shirt.

He was muscular, fit, and handsome. You blushed immensely. Oh, how you love that chest of his...

He smirked and suddenly grabbed you, throwing you over his shoulder. "Hey!" You yelled. He threw you into the water.

You came up from the water and splashed some at him. He chuckled lowly, then slicked his hair back with his hand. That one strand still stuck out.

Kakyoin picked you up. "Wow, you too?!" You shouted, then he yanked you into the water again.

You emerged from the water, huffing. "Don't make me ruin that beautiful hair of yours, Kakyoin Noriaki!"

"Noo! I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" He put his hands up in the air, surrendering. "Hmph."

Jotaro came from behind and wrapped his arms around your waist, a burning grin on his face.

"Damn, leave some space for the fellow single men here, Jotaro!" Polnareff walked into the water. "Ahh! Don't let the water touch my hair!"

Avdol sneaked up on him and poured a bucket of water on his head, deflating his stone pillar-like hairstyle. "AHHHHHHHHH!"

"Ha ha ha ha, loosen up a bit, Polnareff! It's just water!" He laughed heartily, patting his back. "Why, you..!" He pounced on Avdol.

You could hear some sort of strange sound coming from Jotaro, he was lightly shaking. "Jojo, are you..

...LAUGHING?!"

You turned to him and he really was laughing. Like a normal person.

He nodded and pulled you towards him, bending down and digging your head into his shoulder, trying to muffle his deep chuckling.

"Oi, everyone! Get a load of this, Jojo's LAUGHING!" Polnareff said. Joseph finally came over and into the water, camera in his hand. "Nobody move! I've gotta get a picture of this!"

He snapped a picture and the polaroid came out. He grabbed it, shaking it in the air. "Aww!" He said then ran back to the shore.

This was the happiest you'd ever seen Jotaro in a long time. You knew he loved the ocean since you were little.

He picked you up again, you wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck.

"Don't throw me in again!" You giggled. He carried you back to the land, setting you down on the lounge chair, laying down next to you.

Iggy came over and jumped on your chest. "Oi, Iggy! Leave Y/n alone, come back here!" Polnareff yelled again, running over.

He was walking all over you. "Ouch, Iggy, you're crushing my boobs!" You groaned, trying to sit up. "Iggy!"

"Kono kuso inu ga..." You made an agonized expression, he wouldn't get off you. "Oww!"

He barked as if he was laughing at you, then sat down. "Your fat ass is going to make my tits deflate, get off of me!"

Avdol finally picked the dog up off of you. "God damn!" You sat up and huffed, clutching your chest.

You spent the rest of that day laughing and feeling happiness.

#jotaro kujo #kujo jotaro #jojo #jojos #jjba #jojo's bizarre adventure #jotaro x y/n #jotaro x reader #jotaro kujo x reader #jotaro x you #beach #copied and pasted from a flashback in my wattpad story #beach day #fanfic

[ship-graveyard]

P1Harmony MTL - Fashion 💅

- mtl to let you pick out their outfit for a day -

🫧 - most to least | 🌙 - gn!reader | 💞 - ot6

———————————————————————

Most Likely

Keeho:

♡ - when you suggest it he’s absolutely thrilled

♡ - bonus points if you let him pick out your outfit in return

♡ - has some uhhhhhhh unusual clothes sometimes but they make him happy and he has the confidence to pull off literally anything (and if you make fun of him for the slightly uglier things he owns he’ll just just laugh and threaten to make you wear them instead)

♡ - he’s so passionate about his personal image and he’ll use the chance to boost your own style and confidence because he loves you and needs you to see how stunning and creative you are

♡ - MODELS the outfit for you afterwards (he’s already thinking up new ideas for next time too)

———————————————————————

Intak:

♡ - thinks it’s a cute idea (and also would do ANYTHING for you)

♡ - gives you a full tour of his closet complete with stories about where he got each item before you even start

♡ - enjoys fashion but doesn’t always have the energy to put together a solid outfit, so he really appreciates this

♡ - is 100% down to wear something from your closet if you lend it to him. doesn’t matter how different in style or size it is, he just loves the idea of having a constant reminder of you (and if it’s different enough from his usual outfits for people to ask about it, he’d love the excuse to talk about you lol)

♡ - likely to drape something random of his over your head/shoulders and watch you with puppy eyes until you agree to wear it in return (also bonus points if your outfits match even a little bit)

———————————————————————

Jongseob:

♡ - unbothered king. finds the suggestion strange at first but it grows on him

♡ - as long as you understand his comfort level and give him ultimate veto power to say no to anything at any time, have at it. he trusts you

♡ - once he relaxes a bit he’ll be suggesting and trying on really ugly combinations just for the fun of it and you’ll both be giggly messes

♡ - gets especially excited for accessory recommendations and tries to steal some of your keychains and cute trinkets in return for lending you a few of his

♡ - posts an ootd if he really likes what you picked for him bc he likes seeing reminders of you when he looks in the mirror, and he can save that feeling forever in pictures

———————————————————————

Theo:

♡ - a bit particular about his outfits, so he wouldn’t outright refuse, but he would complain at first about how he doesn’t really see the point

♡ - UNTIL he realizes that your plan includes accessorizing and then he’s all in

♡ - jewelry, makeup, nail polish, and literally anything else you bring along will have him preening. he will sit so still while you work

♡ - his favorite part would be letting you style his hair though. it’s mostly just an excuse to get you to play with his hair, but he keeps suggesting new and complex hairstyles for you to try (even if you can’t figure them out, spending time with you like this makes everything worth it for him)

♡ - very likely to lend you stuff from his own closet casually, so he wouldn’t be too reciprocal but only bc your outfits are already somewhat influenced by him

———————————————————————

Jiung:

♡ - would find it a very sweet suggestion, but is ultimately very reluctant to actually go through with it

♡ - he’d be more interested in dressing you up, but if you agree to give him some say in the final result (and ask nicely), he’ll cave

♡ - he would probably love handmade or customized clothing, so if you do any kind of fabric art (sewing, crochet, knitting, embroidery, etc) or personalization (patches, paint, studs) he’d be more than happy to showcase any of your work

♡ - he’s dressing you up in return (probably in his clothes bc he’s so proud to have you and just a liiiiiiittle bit possessive)

♡ - will model the outfit for you and then get overwhelmingly embarrassed about it (and oh noooo he’ll only feel better if you do a little spin and model yours too)

———————————————————————

Soul:

♡ - he’d agree and follow through with it, but his heart just wouldn’t be in it

♡ - if you find an interesting color or pattern combination, he’ll consider it, but he just doesn’t really see the appeal of putting a ton of time into outfits when his comfortable clothes serve him just fine

♡ - instead of having a special occasion for it, he prefers to have little reminders of you regularly worked into his outfit/personal items

♡ - would definitely end up stealing your clothes over time (especially clothes he can just relax in). he feels comfortable with you and your style of clothes, no matter what that is, bc they remind him of you

♡ - HOWEVER. he would be the best person to cosplay or go out in costumes with bc he can get very invested in characters and ideas

#p1h #p1harmony #p1harmony mtl #p1harmony x reader #piwon x reader #p1h imagines #yoon keeho x reader #choi taeyang x reader #choi jiung x reader #hwang intak x reader #haku shota x reader #kim jongseob x reader #p1ece #♡ #🫧 #🌙 #💞 #ive been going thru it tbh but that means I have some cute little things brewing bc I needed some comfort

[ladyloveandjustice]

My Favorite New Manga and Graphic Novels I Read in 2023

It's time to take a look at the comics and manga I read this year! I read  a whopping 78 manga and graphic novels in all. Here's a link to my Goodreads year in books (the manga is at the beginning, the novels start with Siren Queen) and my storygraph wrap up.

I also read 36 novels! If you want to see my favorites, check out my reviews here!

And finally, I've got the continuing manga series I've enjoyed this year here, so check that post out too!

The Magic Fish by Trung Le Nguyen

This is a tale about a first-generation Vietnamese-American boy struggling with coming out to his mother. He connects with his mother through fairytales-- she uses them to express her journey as an immigrant, and he uses them to explore his queerness and identity as a Vietnamese kid growing up in America. It's an absolutely gorgeous book full of Trung Le Nguyen's signature stunning art. The fantastical, ethereal fairy tales are weaved beautifully into the lives of the characters. The book explores how fairy tales can form connection, can express culture, can tap deeply into something real and true, and can offer tragedy and catharsis. The protagonist uses fairy tales to write his own story, and the ending is lovely and moving.

Exit Stage Left: The Snagglepuss Chronicles by Mark Russell and Mike Feehan

You may know Mark Russell from his darker, socially aware re-imagining of the Flintstones, which made quite a splash on Tumblr with this post. Well, I had pleasure of meeting him at a local convention, and I finally got his comic re-imagining of Snagglepuss, also of Hanna-Barbera. He re-imagines the titular pink puma as a closeted gay playwright in the 50's dealing with McCarthyism. It's as wild as it sounds,but also really digs into the politics of the time, the struggle of standing against oppression and how art fights through suppression and censorship. It's tragic, hopeful, poignant and full of historical references. I enjoyed it ! Definitely be cautious if you're deeply disturbed by homophobia and suicide.

The Summer Hikaru Died by Mokumokuren

A story about a teenage boy, Yoshiki, who realizes that his best friend and crush Hikaru has died and been replaced by a strange eldritch being who is imitating him. But, missing his loved one and desperate to cling to any piece of him, Yoshiki decides to keep on having a relationship with this mysterious entity. This book's horror is visceral and sublime, especially the bizarre, creepy, beautiful body horror involving the being who replaced Hikaru. It's an exploration of anxieties involving grief, relationships, and sexuality that hits just right, and the atmosphere layered with dread is top notch. I love me some messed up relationships and unknowable queer monsters, and this book delivers.

Chainsaw Man, Look Back and Goodbye Eri by Tatsuki Fujimoto

Chainsaw Man needs no introduction, but I did end up really enjoying the story of the doggy-devil boy hunting other devils. It got so tragic and intense at the end, with lots of great surreal horror imagery and darkly funny moments. I'm impressed it went so hard, though the random powers that kept piling up made what was happening hard to follow at times, especially in fights. I'm also enjoying the current weird arc starring a class-A disaster girl and the demon sharing her body.

Look Back

I really do enjoy how Fuijimoto writes messy pre-teen/teenage girls. They ring so true. The manga follows the fraught friendship between two girls as they create manga, exploring the struggle of art mixing with real relationships, and how someone keeps creating after tragedy. It's a little hard to follow at times (especially since I have to differentiate the leads based on hairstyle), but it's a good read.

Goodbye Eri

Probably my least favorite of the three, but it's a fun read- a weird ride that examines the thin line between fiction and reality in art and makes good use of Fujimoto's cinephile background and signature gaslight gatekeep girlboss characters.

Is Love the Answer? by Uta Isaki

The story follows a teenage girl, Chika, who has always struggled with not being attracted to anyone. When Chika enters college, she meets queer people all across the spectrum of asexuality, and starts exploring her own identity. As an ace, this is the best story about asexuality that I've read. It was a nuanced look at asexuality and queerness and all the variations. Chika's journey and how she found her community was moving and poignant. It's a honest, moving look at relationships and identity, and how complicated and hard to define both of those things can be. I loved the moments of Chika imagining herself as an alien to explore and cope, and how she bonded with people through magical girl shows and other geekery. My favorite new manga of the year, it really connected with me!

The Girl that Can’t Get a Girlfriend by Mieri Hiranishi

Oh girl, I've been there. This is a fun autobiographical comic about a butch4butch lesbian's struggles finding a partner in a word that favors butch/femme, and it's just an honest look at the messiness of loneliness and relationships. I also appreciate that crushing on Haruka in Sailor Moon and becoming a HaruMichi stan was the beginning the author's queer awakening because uh...same! She has taste, and is truly relatable.

Qualia the Purple: The Complete Manga Collection by Hisamitsu Ueo and Shirou Tsunashima

See my review of the light novel here for my general thoughts on the story, since it's adapted pretty faithfully. I do think the manga is overall the best experience though, because the illustrations break up the detailed explanations of quantum mechanics a bit, and it includes a bit of extra content that fleshes things out, especially withthe ending.

The Single Life: 60 year old lesbian who is single and living alone by Akiko Morishima

Just like it says on the tin, this focuses on a 60-year-old single lesbian. And definitely the shortest thing on here, since only one 30 page chapter is out.  It's a grounded story about a woman looking back on her journey to finding her identity, touching on sexism in the workplace and other challenges. It paints a portrait of a proudly gay elder who's still perfectly content being single and feels fulfilled by the life she had rather than regretting past relationships. I definitely want to see more.

Daemons of the Shadow Realm by Hiromu Arakawa

Arakawa's latest, the story is about a boy who lives in a small village with his little sister is imprisoned and has to carry out a mysterious duty...but then the village is attacked, supernatural daemons awaken, and everything he knows might be wrong. I'm enjoying this fun romp so far! It delivers an really nice plot twist right out the gate (and an excellent subversion of the usual shonen "must-protect-my-saintly-sister" narratives). It boasts Arakawa's usual fun cast and interesting world (and cool ladies). There's some slight tone and pacing issues in the first part- there's so much time spent explaining mechanics the lead doesn't really get to react to his life turning upside down. But it starts smoothing out by the second volume. I'm excited to see what's next!

Superman: Space Age by Mark Russell and Michael Allred

This is a retelling of Superman set throughout the late fifties to early eighties that has Superman interact with the political and social upheaval of the time and question his own role in things. It explored the Superman mythos through a lot of cool new angles, and has a good Lois (why yes she would break Watergate) which is how I always measure a Superman adaptation. My one complaint is, while I liked some of the things it did with Batman, the ending with the Joker was pretty weak. The ending of the overall comic will also be bizarre for anyone not uses to how weird comics can get, but I think I dug it.

#DRCL by Shin'ichi Sakamoto

A manga retelling of Dracula that focuses on Mina as the protagonist and imagines the characters at an English prep school. It adds a lot of  diversity to the characters  and has exquisite, evocative art. I'm curious where it will go and what it  intends to do with all it's changes (especially Lucy), because right now it's mostly vibes and creepiness and the direction isn't clear.

#year in comics #manga #yuri #the summer hikaru died #the magic fish #chainsaw man #superman #daemons of the shadow realm #drcl midnight children #is love the answer? #superman: space age #goodbye eri #snagglepuss #my reviews #drcl #the girl who can't get a girlfriend #the single life #trung le nguyen #qualia the purple #tatsuki fujimoto #hiromu arakawa