Tumgik
#crystal does in fact look small
jubileemon · 29 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
In the music video, Blitzø is represented by the Moon, while Stolas is associated with the ocean, initially walking on it before being submerged in it. This is actually very symbolic of their dynamic. The Moon controls the tides, but at the same time, it orbits around the Earth. Blitzø relies on Stolas and is drawn to the force of his power that he needs to accomplish his goals. However, Stolas is controlled by Blitzø's gravity as well, to the point of drowning in his emotions for the imp. They both profoundly affect one another.
Even the string that ties Blitzø and Stolas together is deeply symbolic. The majority is Stolas's blue, which is representing how much he's put into the relationship so far, as well as the massive amounts of feelings he's going through dealing with possibly losing Bitzø once he gives him the crystal. He has so much length to it because he's being so much more open about his feelings as well.
Meanwhile Blitzø's red is barely there because he doesn't, and possibly can't, put more into the relationship than he currently does. He has so much self-hatred that it's almost impossible for him to love anyone romantically, considering he doesn't even love himself. That and he's scared to put himself out there only to be hurt. He shows so few emotions and so his portion of string is immensely shorter. When it snaps, it all goes back to red on his end as all his trauma and repressed emotions about it flood back and envelope him in the moon once more.
Pay attention to the size of the moon. At first the moon was small, that is, these "walls" were thin or insignificant (this can be recognized from the childhood of Blitzo and Stolas, Blitzo was full of enthusiasm and hope, but now it is slowly fading away). Previously, Blitzo was more open, but after many events in his life, his walls began to increase (he was used by his father for profit, his best friend Fizzaroli suffered because of him, etc.), and eventually became huge and impenetrable (he does not share many things, not even with his own daughter, and he's afraid to trust Stolas on purpose). Even Stolas, with his tall stature, cannot compare with them. This literally shows that Blitzo can't trust anyone.
Stolas sees this and tries to break through them, but until they talk, the walls will not be possible to get through. It is precisely because this "barrier" cannot be destroyed that Stolas will give Blitzo the opportunity not to depend on him because of some kind of grimoire. The Moon's increasing size may also indicate that Blitzo is becoming a significant figure to Stolas. He wants to be with Blitzo not only physically (by type of sexual attraction), but also emotionally. In other words: Stolas fell in love with Blitzo seriously, not in childhood, when it was just sympathy, but real love, which is difficult to get rid of.
The symbolism of Blitzo as the Moon is very reflective of his and Stolas' relationship. Not only is it a callback to the fact that they mostly see each other once a month on a full moon to do “the deed”, but it it's also just a great metaphor for Blitzo as a character. Humanity has been fascinated by the Moon for a long time and tried to reach it for centuries and it was only in 1969 (relatively recently) that they managed to do it. The moon had always been this gorgeous, desirable, yet unreachable thing and that's exactly what Blitzo's love is from Stolas’ perspective.
Stolas' love for Blitzo is represented by the moon. First small and bright, something he can hold close and dear. Then larger, something harder to hold but something still fully within his grasp. Then at the end, impossibly large while also just out of reach
The moon also mirrors the power dynamics between Stolas and Blitzø, at the start with Stolas holding all the power, then Stolas putting himself at Blitzø’s level when he finally tries to look deeper and see what Blitzø needs and his walls. Then the moon grows larger than Stolas as he intends to give Blitzø the crystal so he doesn’t have to depend on him anymore. And now the power in the relationship shifted towards Blitzø. Whether the relationship continues is now up to him.
418 notes · View notes
tangledinink · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
edit: tag! fic!
ive spent a stupid amount of time recently thinking about a rottmnt au where circumstances allow splinter to figure out a way to get cloaking 'brooches' for himself and his children when they are still lil, giving him a chance to raise them as 'normal' kids. (normal kids who are genetically engineered mutant turtles, actually, and they're, like, SO good at sports, dude.)
surely nothing can break this idyllic illusion of a life that splinter has built. definitely nothing that rhymes with daron braxum.
i can only imagine this would work if the threat of both draxum and big mama were neutralized. i think in this universe, draxum's life of crime caught up to him much sooner than it does in canon, and he's imprisoned for his unethical experimentation when the turtles are still little-- raph maybe around six or seven, mikey around four or five. once splinter learns of this, he pulls every string he possibly can to 1) get cloaking crystals for himself and his family 2) cut a deal with big mama to ensure his children's safety.
after spending about a week or two in the sewers fucking drilling the cover story into the children's heads ("remember, mikey, what do you do if people start asking you too many questions?" "CRY!" "good boy!") he very nervously brings them up to the surface, armed with an elaborate story to explain his disappearance and new children and a shitton of forged documents. there was so much fucking paperwork, christ. (also, it turns out the blue one is biologically female? but he does not have the mental space to deal with that so they all just keep calling him leo, and he's totally fine with that. so.)
and he collects ALLLLLLL the royalties, babey.
(the kids are kids, and definitely slip up occasionally or do... weird shit. but, luckily, since they're small children, people pretty much just chalk it up as "oh, these kids have such wild imaginations.")
eventually, enough time passes that the brothers just kinda... forget that they were ever actually turtle mutants who lived in the sewers. coz, like, that's crazy, right? they're pretty sure they just imagined all that stuff. they weren't turtles, they were PRETENDING to be turtles... and people give them weird looks sometimes when they bring it up, so they don't.
overall, they THRIVE on the surface, to no one's surprise. they are, in fact, secretly genetically engineered super soldiers, actually. and they are crazy good at, like. so many things. especially martial arts! they compete at a national level on the regular, in addition to a shit ton of other extracurriculars (ballet, art, basketball, and cooking for mikey, swimming, basketball, gymnastics, and theatre for leo, dance, gymnastics, and swimming for donnie, not even to mention all his academic stuff, basketball, wrestling, and swimming for raph...)
they're still besties with april, obvs.
4K notes · View notes
theplumsoldier · 9 months
Text
loverboy
summary: carmen makes a move on you while you think he's still got a girlfriend. could've gone smoother but you end up inviting him
pairing: carmy berzatto x afab!reader
word count: 4,2k
warnings: insecurities, self-doubt, small lies (carm makes you believe he lives closer to you than he does), vulgar language, mention of "setting boundaries" of a not-yet-existing-fwb-relationship, 18+ MDNI; smut, unprotected sex, semi-public grinding, oral (f&m receiving) soft!carm, idiots in love, friends to lovers!!
Tumblr media
"You know, I don't think I've said this." He hadn't. "But I'm-I'm really—we're all really glad to have you here."
He was nodding to himself as he said it, and he hoped you didn't notice the hesitation. Carmy wasn't for a second doubtful that they were happy—he was certainly happy that you had joined the crew during the hectic weeks prior to The Bear's opening.
It was just that now, here, sitting alone with you in the back alley of the restaurant, sharing one of the bottles of expensive-as-shit Coup Beaujolais, he was getting unsure of himself. On whether he had completely misread your banter. He wasn't very good with that, flirting—never knew when someone was hitting on him and always double-checking whether he himself was, in fact, hitting on someone. Richie had said the chemistry between you guys was more dangerous than Fak recalibrating. Fucking stupid, he thought, but it made him think.
And then Carmy realized he had been flirting with you, in his own stupid fucking way which he worried you hadn't picked up on. Shit, he hadn't noticed it before Richie told him. Now that he sat there, with you, alone, he wondered if Richie had been fucking with him again.
Carmy wanted to know how you felt about him, but he didn't want to fuck up as was his specialty lately—didn't wanna make you uncomfortable, didn't wanna make anything weird.
"Yeah, uh. Thanks, chef," said you, chewing at your bottom lip to ease the tension. Carmy had a real habit of making situations awkward. "I'm glad you'll have me."
Phrasing.
Carm nodded, the persistent way he does whenever he's turning words in his head. You could almost hear the gears scraping.
"You always seem so cool—about everything. Like, even though we're jumpin' off the fuckin' walls, screaming n'shit, you'll just—you're collected. S'a real good quality, you know?"
You grinned, thinking of those exact memories, some just a couple of hours old. "Yeah, well—I'm sure it's more hectic n'the kitchen, right? Like there's, open fire, sharp knives and shit. Gotta be jumpin', like, all the time, yeah? To avoid the obstacles n'stuff."
"Yeah," he chuckled. "Peter Parker-type shit."
"Yeah."
You held the plastic cup out and he poured you another one.
"Anyway, keeps me sane, you know? I think—I think at some point you made me realize that—that, you know, it's not normal to fuckin' scream all day. Like I didn't even realize I got fuckin' migraines 'til it was quiet, you feel me?"
It made you bubbly, to hear that Carmen did in fact appreciate having you be a part of the team.
You just sat there, quietly watching him. His bicep popped when he poured a slob into his own cup. You watched as his tongue darted out to wet his lips before taking a sip.
You sat like that, speaking mindlessly for a while, sharing experiences and goofing around. You loved this, getting to know him better, but when you suddenly found that he had sought closer to you, you felt your heart leap.
His body was so close you could feel the heat of his body radiate. It was intoxicating, more than the wine and though your subconscious reminded you it was wrong to lean into his welcoming touch, you couldn't help but forget what was right and wrong.
His crystal blue eyes caught the light from the street lamp, and you were mesmerized as he looked into your soul. You felt vulnerable but safe in his company.
Though there had been much lead-up, it seemed to come out of the blue. Carmy leaned in, and his eyes were fixated on your lips. Before your lips touched, your senses returned and you moved back against the fence.
"Yo, what the fuck are you doing?"
Fuck.
"Wait—I'm sorry! I'm sorry."
"You have a girlfriend!"
Oh.
"Wha—no, no—shit, that's not—" he stumbled back, running a hand over his dazed face, dragging the expression down with it.
Fuck—fuck! Carmen thought he must look like a fucking jagoff.
He stood with his back to you, but you could see the way his broad shoulders heaved with every.
You pushed, not appreciating the silence. "Yeah, no—her name is Claire. You've been dating her a couple months now and known her, for like, forever. That ring any bells?"
When Carmen turned around to face you, he looked defeated. He then crouched down beside you again.
"We broke up."
What?
Carmen told you how he had had an existential crisis during opening night, how he had thought he vented to Tina while stuck in the walk-in, and Claire had heard everything he had said. You could sense the sadness in his voice, but there was no regret. It spread a warm feeling in your chest, and you immediately felt a pang of guilt. When you had first met Carm, he had been with Claire and so the immediate attraction you had felt—well, you had obviously tried to suppress that.
"—I guess I just... I realized I can't both manage a—a restaurant and a relationship. I—I don't know, it don't come natural to me."
Your brows were furrowed, mixed feeling prickling at your skin. "So... why'd you try to kiss me just now?"
Again, he looked despondent.
"I—fuck, I don't know, I've—I guess I've just been feeling this for a while now, with—with you and I dunno. Richie's been getting in my head and I had a stupid thought and figured fuck it, you know?"
It wasn't a question but he was looking for an answer on your expression. Carmen feared you had stopped him from kissing you, not because you thought he had a girlfriend, but because you didn't want to kiss him.
Carmy watched as you looked thoughtfully at the ground, his hands fidgeting as you did the same.
Fuck.
It's over, he thought to himself.
Battling the voices in your head telling you not to, you said: "You know, it's not that the thought of kissing you, like, disgusts me."
His head tilted upward, hope in his sorry eyes.
"No?" he quizzed sheepishly.
"No," you chuckled. "I mean, I've thought about it before."
Carm lit up. "Ye—yeah?"
"Yeah," nodded you, wetting your lips as you recalled your fantasies. "It'd probably be stupid though, right?"
"So stupid," he agreed, nodding vigorously as if trying to shake the thought. It would be fucking stupid. He knew it. But it didn't deter him. Carm wanted to take the chance. He shouldn't, after all, he broke it off with Claire because he "wasn't ready". Why would he be ready now? "Still want to, though."
So badly. It felt more like an urge; a need rather than a want.
"So do it," you finally tested.
If you didn't, you were sure you'd back out, run into the kitchen with your tail between your legs. But you would regret that, you knew it. You tried to convince yourself you shouldn't back away. You wanted this—had for a while. Carm was the one who should second-guess himself, not you. He had ended a relationship because he couldn't dedicate himself and now he wanted to give it another shot. With you. It made you desperate, knowing he wanted you like you wanted him. Still, you worried he would kiss you and regret it immediately, confirmed in his suspicions—he didn't have time for romance. Keep your eye on the price.
"Fuck it," breathed he, putting aside an internal battle and leaned closer, knocking aside the bottle of wine as he pressed his hungry lips to you.
Your lips felt plump against his, chewed with anticipation and soft with spit. You tasted like a perfect dessert.
Lost in the growing heat, you cradled his face, swiping your warm tongue over his needy lips and Carmen did not hesitate to grant you entrance. A desperate although soft whine escaped him and you swallowed it down, living for the way he desired you.
Without interrupting the dance your tongues twirled, Carmen's large palm grasped your hip and pulled you into his lap. Automatically you ground down on him and moaned at the sensation of what you did to him.
You'd thought about how he would feel against you. From behind the bar, you always had a perfect view of his station and often got distracted by the way he moved—the way his mouth curled when he would scream commands, the way his arms would flex as he worked. It was a surprise nobody had filed a complaint against you. On more than one occasion you had mixed the wrong drink or spilled liquor because you just couldn't keep your eyes off of him. It was unprofessional, but he was mesmerizing like a starry sky; the longer you looked, the deeper you fell into the abyss.
Carmen mumbled a curse under his breath as he broke the kiss, breathing heavily as he ground up into your clothes sex.
"Do—doesn't feel so stupid, huh?"
You grinned and shook your head lightly, pressing your forehead against his.
"If we're gonna fuck we should probably talk about it," you said blatantly. "Set some ground rules."
Carmen was caught off guard for a second. He knew what he wanted but when you said it so casually it made something twitch in him.
His eyes were attached to your lips. They looked so delicious, kissed rough and he pulled at your bottom lip with his thumb before he even registered it.
"Probably," he breathed even though he wasn't quite sure what your words actually meant. He was quite literally thinking with his cock.
Carmen clashed his insatiable lips to yours again, but the second he did so, the back door to The Bear clicked open and Marcus appeared, garbage bags in hand. By the time you looked up at him, you had clumsily shuffled off of Carmen, sitting awkwardly with your legs to your chest. You weren't sure what he'd seen nor what he made of it.
"Hey," he hummed, moving to sling the plastic bags into the container.
"Sup, bro," acknowledged Carm, putting his hands on his hips, suddenly standing up, playing it cool.
"Imma call it a night," Marcus said. "See y'all tomorrow."
"Yeah, uh—good job t'day."
Marcus disappeared and Carmen looked back down at you, holding out a hand to help you to your feet. The interruption had broken the spell.
"Can I walk you home?" he offered. It made more sense to him, taking you home. He wasn't about to violate health code on the kitchen floor of his own restaurant.
"You live close to Maygrey?"
No.
"Yeah."
The walk might do him some good, he figured. Perhaps the chivalrous gesture would help him get lucky tonight, and even if you decided you were not about to fool around with him, he could at least say he had done a good deed today.
Carm hadn't realized you made a twenty-minute walk every night, and although he often did the same, it bothered him a great deal. He hadn't had any uncomfortable encounters himself, but he knew Sugar had. One time when she had been late to dinner at his place because of some creep bothering her on the street, and he had asked her why she hadn't called him (he would have picked her up), she told him it was not a first nor was it a last. It angered him, knowing it was not unusual for a woman to feel afraid when walking alone.
Carmen recalled your mention of ground rules, but you didn't once embark on the topic. Instead of talking about sex, you joked as if you were friends and nothing more. It made him wonder if you regretted kissing him.
Of course you invited him up. How could you not?
Carm looked dubious suddenly and you raised a brow, giving him a soft smile.
"I won't be mad if you turn me down now. No hard feelings."
He realized you were just a pair of self-doubting idiots—none of you wanting to pressure the other into something you might regret. And Carmen knew he might just do that—not because he was unsure whether he wanted this with you (he hadn't wanted something this much in a long time), no—he feared he would find himself in the same emotional clusterfuck he had with Claire.
Something about you made him want to throw caution to the wind and become the loverboy he so pathetically wanted to be for you.
How could he ever turn you down? A simple kiss in a back alley had dragged him in too deep.
You stood atop the staircase and watched curiously as Carmen closed the space. His hand cradled your face and he planted a soft kiss on your lips, not as vigorous a kiss as earlier that night, but just as hungry, just as passionate.
He then gave you a reassuring look and you knew you had it bad cause you could've sworn you fell in love with him just then.
Grabbing his hand you dragged him along with you, eagerly pulling him up the steps to your apartment, not wasting a goddamn second in connecting your lips again.
Carm chuckled against your lips as you pushed him into the door, closing it with him as if locking you away from the outside world. It was just the two of you.
Carmen was too far away to realize you had undone his belt until the familiar clinking sounded. He was so fucking hard by now, aroused by your eagerness. It was almost mortifying.
He composed himself. "Where's the bedroom?"
You gave him a look. "It's a one-room apartment, Carm."
For the first time, he looked around and got the message. The kitchen was awkwardly lodged into a small corner of the living room and the living room was also the bedroom. There was a door three feet ahead but he was unsure whether it was a closet or a bathroom.
"So when I fuck you on the couch I'll also be fucking you in the dining room?"
You looped your arms around his front from behind, pointing to the corner of the room. "Yeah, n'the trashcan over there's the bathroom."
He spun around, placing his large hands on your hips to keep you close. "Cozy."
There was a glimmering to his eyes, and his contagious charm infected you with an enticing smirk. You leaned in, cradling your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent.
"So you gonna fuck me Carmy? Or are ya just all talk?" teased you, planting wet kisses against his throat, sucking the place below his ear. That's the spot.
In a flash, he hooked your legs around his waist and you would've been embarrassed by the stupid fucking giggle escaping you if a low moan hadn't interrupted you. His restrained cock felt even bigger now, pressing up into your clothed crotch.
You could hardly wait to see his weeping head.
Carmen straddled you on the couch, breaking your lips apart to shift his focus. Peppering kisses down your neck, your chest heaved with a shaky breath, whining for him. You wondered if he would flip you over and fuck you roughly if you asked nicely.
Another time you told yourself. Tonight, you were too ecstatic as he worshipped your body like the prettiest fucking tenderloin he'd ever seen. The thought made you smile into your arm, gasping as his hot breath swept over your belly.
"So fuckin' beautiful," he murmured against your skin, tongue poking out to taste the flesh.
Writhing beneath him, you tugged at his curls, and he swore he was about to bust right there, with your glossy and dazed eyes blinking down at him. Fuck, Carm wanted to hear you beg for him.
"What is it, baby girl?" he taunted, looking curiously at you while he peppered kisses across the skin he exposed by lifting up your shirt.
When you ground up your hips to show him where you wanted him, he kept you pressed against the cushion. You cried out.
"Carmy!" you mewled, helplessly thrashing.
After removing your shirt, he praised your patience: "you're so good for me," he said and unbuttoned your jeans. "Tell me what you want, sweet girl."
You threw your head back into a pillow with a thud, wanting to both strangle and fuck him (which you had wanted many times already since you started bartending at The Bear) as he pressed teasing, open-mouthed kisses by the seams of your panty line.
"Just—mpff! Fuck me already, Carm," you whined.
His face tilted up and you wanted to slap the smirk right off of his sly face. "In a minute, baby."
As he moved back a little, you thought he was finally going to give you what you wanted, but when you arched your back with need he used your movements to flip you onto your stomach. He roughly placed you as he pleased, propping you on your knees, and slid in under you.
"Just a quick taste, baby," he drawled.
Realizing he was gonna eat you out, you melted completely, seated perfectly on his face as was his wish. You barely managed to get comfortable before he hooked a finger through the leg of your underwear, the cold of his ring making you shiver and he dug in like a man starved.
A sound bordering on a thirsty moan and a dry cry escaped you. Carmen looped his arms around your thighs. His tongue explored the nooks of your lips, lapping slick from your folds and into your pussy.
A string of curses left your lips as he relished your juices, groaning into your cunt. He couldn't help but relieve some of the pressure on his impossibly hard cock by palming himself through his jeans.
He had lost himself for a moment there and when he looked up, he became doe-eyed with adoration. You had removed your bra.
His hand left his cock and slid up your curves, palming your breast instead and the other went to deftly work your clit. He elicited a muffled shriek from you, obviously surprised by the sudden added sensation to the delicate bud.
"Carmy," you panted, grinding your hips against his mouth, all of it seeming both too much and not enough. He was going to ruin you and you would let him. "Fu—fuck! M'gonna come, Carm."
Your confession merely made him more eager, more hungry and he concentrated on bringing you closer, encouraging each wave of your hips with a low moan. Carmen let you fuck his face, rolling and grinding on him to persuade your release closer. You grabbed at his curls to steady yourself as it came in euphoric waves, moaning, crying, whimpering, and grinning as he lapped your cum, savoring every last drop. It quickly became too much though, and as his nose tickled your sensitive clit, you fell apart, tilting over and crashing above him.
"Ho—holy fuck," you panted and he stood up from the couch, ridding himself of his clothes until there was nothing but a gold chain gleaming at his chest.
Still recovering from your orgasm, you gaped at his size. The head was red and strained, pre-cum beading the slit making it look like it was crying. The shaft was long with protruding veins drawing purple along the length and he was thick, too thick to fit in the circle created when you connect the tip of your index with that of your thumb.
He was perfect.
Carmen looked a bit flustered from your shameless gawking but you couldn't help it. "You're beautiful, Carm."
He grinned sheepishly down at you, grasping your legs, pulling you to the edge of the couch, resting your calves on his shoulders.
"You are," he insisted, pressing his lips to yours in a feverishly soft kiss as he aligned his head with your folds.
Gasping, you took a second to relax around his head, knowing it would sting painfully if you didn't. You wouldn't let anything ruin this moment. Not with his eyes gazing so intensely down at you; not with saliva connecting your mouths with a string, not with him before you like this, looking like he was carved by fucking Donatello, nothing hiding an inch of his tantalizingly soft skin bar the gold chain dangling from his neck.
You instinctively edged closer, putting a hand on his shoulder to guide him into you. He eased into you as he kissed you hungrily—insatiable, always needing more of your taste.
Carm held his breath as he bottomed out, finally exhaling a shaky breath. He couldn't believe how good you felt around him, hugging—no squeezing the life out of his cock as you desperately clawed on his back, feeling every cleft and hill, moaning into his mouth. He hoped your nails would leave marks on his skin.
With your forehead pressed against his, you looked down with hooded eyes and watch as he slid in, devastatingly slow, inch by inch. Carm followed your gaze.
"God, look how good you're takin' me, baby. Doin' so well f'me—doin' so good," he groaned, head digging into your neck, licking, sucking, biting.
He commenced a thrusting-grinding pace, reaching every crevice inside you, tickling all the right places. You cried out, a mixture of pain and pleasure so delicious as he poked and prodded places untouched. He felt unreal.
Soon Carmen drilled into you like a madman, steadying himself against your hips, rutting into you at a bruising pace. You'd feel him long after he was gone.
You held him close by his neck, securing him by threading your fingers through that damn sexy gold chain and the locks of his hair. His brows were furrowed, concentration and bliss evident in his expression.
You begged him to go faster, harder—before you knew it he granted your wish and his hand had returned to your poor clit, and you grasped whatever you could, the armrest, cushions, him.
You chanted his name, exchanging your vocabulary for his name so that he was all you knew. Carm fucked you through your orgasm, chasing his own as you cried his name. The combination of your moans, your begging, and the vulgar sounds of your skin slapping—it made him fucking delirious.
His bicep flexed delectably as he put all his weight on his right arm, making a considerate pause for a sweet but overwhelmingly intense kiss, only to thrust impossibly deeper.
Feeling his consistent pace become erratic, you begged him. "Please, please, Carm—fill me up."
You could feel your frantic pleas going straight to his cock as he twitched inside you, groaning—but fuck it sounded like a frail whimper.
The furrow between his brows deepened, a red blush painting his face and chest.
"You're fuckin' unreal," he manages, shaking his head.
Carmy's pace became sloppier and more desperate, cursing into your mouth as he stuttered, a strangled moan signaling his high.
He filled you up, squirting white ropes of velvety cum into you. You felt his seed trickle out as if there was not enough room for his generous load. Then he collapsed beside you.
You lay still for a minute or so, chests heaving in unison as you came back down to Earth.
"Fuck," he said after some time, pronouncing the cuss as if he had just learned the word.
You chuckled, agreeing. "Yeah."
"Shit, lemme get ya somethin' for the—"
"No, no—don't worry," you stopped him, already getting up before he could do much. He watched you go, admiring your naked body. You reached between your legs, feeling his cum trickle down your thighs. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck."
Carmy laughed when he realized what was going on, a sort of childish grin he couldn't hold back from rumbling in his chest. He hadn't felt this comfortable in a long time.
You disappeared out of sight. He heard water running splash and he figured you were cleaning yourself. Carmen wondered if he would get to fill you up again—preferably sometime soon.
You returned with a damp washcloth, your feet padding softly against the floor as you approached him. Carm couldn't help but smile endearingly as he went to move to free up space for you, but you placed a soft hand on his thigh as if telling him to lie still instead.
"Oh—" he began when he noticed the washcloth, but to his surprise you wrapped your lips around his cock, earning a strangled moan from him. Your warm tongue licked him clean and you hollowed your cheeks around him as if vacuuming his mess.
The pleasure turned into a ticklish feeling and he felt like grinning and kicking his feet suddenly. You looked up through your lashes, and he felt as if his eyes had remolded into heart shapes.
He brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, looking at you with such tooth-rotting affection it made him wonder if he loved you. In this situation, it felt natural to say to you—it felt easy and welcome, right on the tip of his tongue.
You offered him an enchanting smile and took his large hand to your mouth, kissing his knuckles, then began cleaning his cock with the washcloth.
Carmen's head dropped back at your touch and he exhaled deeply.
A smile danced across his face and he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand; the one you had kissed.
What am I going to do with you?
2K notes · View notes
noroi1000 · 7 months
Text
Baby Gojo
Tumblr media
Summary: Your friend brought you a baby. Is it possible that this child is your husband? Yes, because he was hit by a curse.
A/n: This is short. All I had to do was see Baby Gojo and I had to write it 🥹
Tumblr media
Rolling out of bed, you reached the door as someone was waiting there. And with a hand on your stomach, you looked at the familiar blonde who was holding something in his hands.
"Good morning, sorry for the problem, (y/n)-san." he said, bowing slightly.
"Oh, good morning, Nanami. Will you come in?" you asked, opening the door slightly for him.
"No, thank you, I don't have time. I have to go back soon. I'm just here to give you this." He stepped closer to you, and gently raised his hands, holding the ball in the blanket so that you can take it gently. "I know you're pregnant and it might be hard for you... But you're the only one who can take care of it."
You felt a weight in your arms and looked at it.
You saw a small baby face with white hair.
Your eyes widened.
"This-."
The little child suddenly opened his eyes and you saw crystal blue.
"You're his wife, so–."
"Wait, this is Satoru's?" you asked, fury rising within you.
Does he have another child?!
Did he cheat on you?!
You felt tears prick your eyes just thinking about it. How could he cheat on you, his wife. You've been with him for so long and you're pregnant now!
You have his child under your heart and he does this to you?
And he sent Nanami to give you a baby while he was at work?! What about the mother of this child?!
And you're sure it's Satoru's! This baby looks exactly like him! Even though it's sweet, you felt heartache that it was your husband's child with another woman...
"Nanami, Is he really..." you started.
And as soon as he heard the tone of your voice, he hurried to explain.
"It is not like that! It's not his baby!" he said quickly.
Meanwhile, the white-haired baby held out his hands to you with a smile.
"This child is him."
"What?"
"...I have no idea how to explain this to you... He oversaw the mission of his disciples. Itadori gave it to me like this when they came back. Fushiguro said that he was showing off as usual and was hit by a curse that turned him into a baby for a while.. And according to Ieiri-san, this curse will last for about 9 hours on him. They returned to school about 5 hours ago. Therefore, the remaining 4 hours are for you."
"W-Wait! What should I do?! Is this really Satoru?!"
"I have no idea. This is Gojo Satoru himself." He started to come, but before leaving completely, he turned around. "Gojo-san would never cheated you."
You felt warmth spread through your chest at his words.
Do even people around you think so?
That's nice...
You looked down, feeling light tugs on your shirt.
You smiled slightly when you saw his smile. So sweet and tiny.
Holding him with one hand, you placed the finger of your other hand on his cheek, feeling the softness. He chuckled charmingly, grabbing the tip of your finger.
For that moment, you forgot about the weight of your belly and turned around as you entered the house. Closing the door with your foot to focus on the sweet little man in your arms.
"Who's so sweet, you are!" you said happily, unwrapping him from the blanket.
The bag you also got had all his stuff in it.
Probably his students had to see him naked... You have to experience this sight every day when his body is an adult. The fact that they saw a baby means nothing.
You pulled him out of the blanket to look at him. White fluffy hairs on his head, long white eyelashes and those beautiful blue eyes.
You have to take pictures of him while he looks like this! He's so sweet!
When the blanket fell off him, you saw that he was naked. There was nothing there that scared you. (Maybe because you've seen it in a different form.)
You placed him on the couch and went to get a new bunny diaper that you both already had. It was in your house because even if you were pregnant for a few more months, Satoru really wanted to go buy baby accessories.
And then, as you placed a soft diaper on his little body, you watched his smile. So innocent and cute.
Nothing will ever replace that childish smile. Especially when paired with those cheerful blue eyes.
You would love to see this image longer.
Even though he is your husband, you feel like you are just with your child.
The baby in front of you is the father of your child... How strange...
But this baby in front of you is the most adorable creature in the world! You love him!
You've never seen any photos from when Satoru was little! And now you were given the opportunity to see him as he was. And he was so sweet!
"Who's hungry, honey~?" You hummed as you picked him up. You kissed his little forehead to feel his little hands grab the shirt on your chest. "Oh god, no. I won't breastfeed my husband!"
You said to yourself as your thoughts started to go in the wrong direction. What kind of feeling is it? You'll have to wait a few months to find out. You cannot breastfeed your husband! He's just a baby for the next few hours! You have to give him normal milk or some fruit puree! Yogurt! He always ate it!
Running to the kitchen as fast as your load would allow you, you found a tub of yogurt (because Satoru likes it)
As you handed it to him, your mind paused for a moment.
Can't children eat something straight from the fridge?
But before you could take it from him, his greedy little mouth was eating the sweet strawberry yogurt.
His hands held it as he looked at you with wide eyes.
You love the look of it. You really love how your husband looks as a little kid. Besides, you think he has some awareness of it. There's a reason he knew what you were giving him to eat. And what other baby would grab your breasts? Well... It could have been a coincidence but still...
And also, he was happy to see you.
This makes your husband, even as a baby, self-aware.
Sitting on the couch with him, you thought about what it would look like later. He will remember this.
This is where I show you that your maternal instinct has already come through so much during pregnancy. You've had your baby for a while and you already love him so much.
Maybe it's because he's your husband?
But you definitely love this baby.
You stroked his adorable face as he looked at you, sucking on the yogurt wrapper inside.
He's so adorable!
Burping quietly, he handed you the almost empty bag of food that was delicious for him and he suddenly yawned.
This was even more adorable!!!
He didn't even have teeth! And that adorable sound when he opened his little mouth!
You wanted to hug him and keep hugging him!
This white-haired toddler is a miracle baby!
Even though you miss your husband as a grown man, you love this little one in your arms! He is so wonderful and perfect!
That white fluffy hair that you want to stroke endlessly! Those sparkling eyes!
You easily laid in bed with the baby on your chest, one hand rubbing your belly.
His little legs and arms lay softly on top of you in a folded position. The side of his head pressed against you as he fell asleep very quickly.
You want such a little baby so much now...
Baby Gojo Satoru. Such a sweet and beautiful baby.
When you woke up, the baby was no longer next to you. Your naked husband was lying next to you, caressing your belly with his large hands.
You don't know if you can choose between baby Gojo Satoru or adult Gojo Satoru.
The little one is so cute and innocent.
An adult can also be charming and lovable.
The only difference is their size.
Because your husband is a big baby in your hands whenever he can.
Trying to ignore his unclothed nakedness, you placed your hands on his cheeks, kissing him lightly.
"I want our baby to look just like you."
White fluffy hair, big blue eyes. Soft long eyelashes all around.
You will be happy to have your husband and Baby Satoru at the same time.
928 notes · View notes
trashmouth-richie · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
eddie x fem! reader
masterlist
w/c 7.8k
summary: things heat up in more ways than one for the roommates, thanksgiving makes everyone thankful.
warnings: NO MINORS, language, fighting, mentions of child neglect, mentions of murder
a/n: thank you to my beta readers: @jo-harrington @sweetsweetjellybean pls check out their work they are both so amazingly talented 🩵 thank you to @blueywrites for screaming with me on certain parts of this story + @fracturedarkness for helping me plan future parts for this series.
again— I’m no longer doing a tag list for this series— this week as really opened my eyes to a bunch of shit in this world and I’m fucking pissed off about it.
Tumblr media
“Do you think it’s enough food? Last year Mike ate all the mashed potatoes so I’m just hoping there is enough for everyone.”
The holidays were always a stressful time for most people, housewives stressing over meal planning, guest lists and matching outfits for their Christmas cards—ones that coordinated well and hid the fact that they were miserable with their lazy, limp dick husbands. Poor Nancy fell into that category all too well.
She’s walking circles around her dining room table, counting the dishes on her fingers. Ham, turkey, cheesy potatoes, mashed potatoes, sweet potato casserole, corn, green bean casserole, a relish tray, strawberry fluff, gravy, two pumpkin pies, two pecan pies, a jello mold, two dozen caramel Rice Krispie bars, a pan of iced banana bars, and one can of jellied cranberry sauce on a crystal plate.
When Nancy asked you to join the Wheeler/Byers/Hopper’s gang for thanksgiving this year, you quickly accepted the invitation, asking if there was anything you could bring. She requested you bring the dessert. So the night before Thanksgiving, you started the tedious task of keeping Eddie from eating all the icing and caramel.
“Eddie! Have you seen the caramels I just bought? They were on the counter next to the flour canister.”
“Nope! Haven’t theen ‘em,” he answers all too quickly, “you thur you bought ‘em?”
“Yes I’m su—,”
Goddamn him.
Walking into the living room you approach the metal head, splayed out on the couch, fingers shoved in his mouth picking at his teeth, “oh Eddie?”
“Mhmm?” He hums, innocently, looking at you with big doe eyes.
“You wouldn’t happen to have caramel stuck in your teeth, the same caramel I bought and said, ‘please don’t eat these they’re for the Rice Krispie bars,’ would you?”
Rose colors his cheeks, “what? Me? Not listening? Ok O’Donnell,” he says with a scoff.
“Eddie,” you say sternly, hip thrown out and arms crossed over your chest.
“Ok! Fine! They were just so fucking good! But I’m dying right now— my teeth feel practically glued together— do we have any floss?!”
“Nance, I think there is more than enough here, you and Jonathan will have leftovers for weeks, months possibly.”
Fretting, Nancy wipes her fidgeting hands on her apron, “I just want it to be perfect— you know how I am.”
Type A, that’s how she was.
“It’ll be perfect, Nancy,” Jonathan agrees, coming up behind her and holding her around her small waist, “just like you.”
Scarlet heat accentuates her rouged cheeks. “Ok ok, no kissing the cook just yet,” she says, peeling herself from Jonathan’s arms, “can you and Argyle set the card table up in the basement?”
-
The turkey almost melted like butter on your tongue, the gravy was rich and savory. Karen’s cheesy potatoes were creamy and the crunchy cornflakes on top were to die for; the entire meal was delicious. The labor of Nancy’s love for her family and friends showing through her craftsmanship of amazing cuisine. You hadn’t seen Karen or Ted since the wedding, being the closest thing to parents you had, you were ecstatic when Karen joined you over the hot water and soapy sink, washing the china plates.
“So sweety, how have things been going lately? Nancy said you have a roommate?” Her tight blonde permed curls shaking behind her as she scrubs the pot used to make the gravy.
Drying the freshly rinsed dish, you answer with a coy smile on your face, “I’ve been good, doing better than I have in a while, yeah, I have a roommate, uhh Eddie Munson.”
“Oh Mike’s friend? He always was so kind to him, taking him under his wing and showing him the ropes in high school,” she looks at you then, her lavender eyeshadow catching the light over the sink, “I’m happy you two are dating.”
Dating.
Dating Eddie Munson.
Scenarios fly through your mind, Eddie holding your hand at the movie theater, him behind you—his chin resting on your shoulder helping you play video games at Arcade Land, watching him write songs and play his guitar, kissing his lips sweetly, deeply— moving down his neck, his chest. His fingers on your thighs—
You’re sweating.
Head dizzy and full of visions of you loving Eddie and Eddie loving you back dance in your head.
“W-we’re not dating, just—”
How would you describe your relationship with Eddie? Roommates? Friends? Waiting for him to kiss you?
“—friends,” you say, enunciating the word slowly, rolling it off your tongue.
“Well,” Karen says, a hidden smile on her knowing lips, “I’m happy you two are just friends.”
Friends.
Such a complicated word. Because you and Eddie were more than that, but definitely not dating. The tension between you was electric, and sometimes jarring, but you went to bed thinking of him every night, hoping he would just open the door to your room, slip beneath the sheets and hold you while you dreamed.
-
[Two weeks prior]
The morning after you had comforted him, you woke up alone— his side of the bed still warm as if he had just gotten up. Sleeping so soundly you weren’t sure what day it was, or the time. The alarm clock on your night stand said 7 o’clock but that couldn’t be right. You and Eddie had both slept for over twelve hours, the comforting kind of sleep that lulls babies to sleep, gentle, sweet, pillowy dreams in one another’s arms. Getting dressed for work, you slip a pair of jeans on, and change into a long navy blue cardigan, headband to match. Lacing up your converse, you open your bedroom door.
Eddie’s in his room getting dressed for work when you find him. Knocking on the opened door gently, you poke your head in, his eyes lift and meet yours, a sleepy, coy grin colors his face, but it doesn’t meet his eyes.
“Hey,” he whispers softly, stopping mid button on his work coveralls.
The black bandana around his head presses his bangs nearly flat, the soft waves of his chocolate dipped curls reflect the sun light with a honey oranged hue.
“Hi,” your voice is small and meek.
An overwhelming feeling of dread* clouds your mind. Where would this new found friendship and comfort lead you both? Maybe Eddie was regretting the entire night. You haven’t been on this comfort level with someone you were physically attracted to ever. Steve was like a brother to you. And Chad— you were never comfortable with him, your skin crawling just thinking of it. But Eddie? The sight of him gave you butterflies, his arms holding your waist while you slept was an intimacy you haven’t experienced before, and you wanted to relish in the feeling of it.
He fiddles with his rings on his fingers, rolling them around and around before his mouth opens to speak, “I’m sorry for yesterday,” he blurts out, looking down in shame, unable to meet your curious eyes.
Barely comprehending that he’s apologizing for being vulnerable, you walk towards him slowly. He notices your staggering steps and inches backward. His walls are back up, caged in with his feelings, barbed wire on the top so you couldn’t find a way in, electric fence surrounding the brick walls—the highest voltage imaginable.
“Ed—”
“Please,” he begs, voice cracked and broken, wavering on another breakdown, “please don’t… I don’t need your sympathy.”
Tears well in your eyes at his recoiling. How can a night of comfort turn into despair and hostility the next morning? Nose burning, signaling your brain that tears would be falling any second, you wipe your eyes hastily.
Eddie felt like his neck was out, exposed to the world, waiting for the guillotine’s blade to slice his skin, until the crimson of his blood spilled in the basket, severing his head, a trophy amongst the weak.
Munson’s didn’t accept charity, his whole life that's what he felt like to Wayne, a charity case, a goddamn roadblock in Wayne’s life stopping him from finding a girlfriend, sleeping on a real bed, forcing him to work overnight just for Eddie— he’d never forgive himself for the pain he’s caused him— and now you? Offering your bed to him, your fingers twirling through his hair as he came undone. Whimpering like an infant, coating your thighs with thick tears. Sure it felt nice to have someone there with him, to reassure him it was all going to be okay, sweet, angelic voice of reason. But when he woke this morning he felt disgusting, like a predator, a vicious wolf preying on a sweet innocent lamb offering herself to him because he was upset.
He didn’t want that for you. He didn’t want to taint your soul with his past.
“I’m not giving my sympathy,” you voiced into the void, whether he heard it or not you weren’t sure.
Eddie breathing heavily, trying to contain his emotions from spilling out of him, “good, because I don’t want it.”
He walks around you in a huff, the muted scent of cigarettes and cologne hit your nose, as he passes you and walks into the bathroom, shutting the door all too hard. Following him, you’re certain you are full fledged crazy at this point, like in a scary movie when the lead actress stays in the house instead of running away.
Opening the door, opening Pandora’s box, you push it til it swings wide, he’s hovering over the sink brushing his teeth, white and blue toothpaste decorate the corners of his mouth.
“Tooty,” he groans, spitting a dollop of toothpaste into the sink, “seriously— I don’t want to talk about it, whatever you have to say save it for the human Care Bear Harrington—I don’t want to hear it.” he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.
Stones would be impressed with how still you’re standing, head raised waiting for him to look you in your eye. Refusing to break. A storm in your eyes threatening to flood. “Why are you acting like this?”
“I’m not acting like anything,” Eddie grunts impatiently, “are you ready?”
When you don’t say anything, he moves you out of the way, large hands around your arms, stepping around you and going into the kitchen.
Following him, you won't let up, his head in the fridge he pulls out the orange juice carton, drinking directly from the jug, “Eddie, you can talk to me about it, I’m a good listener.”
He shakes his head and rolls his eyes, gasping for breath as he swallows the citrus liquid, “I said— I said, I didn’t want to talk about it and I meant it, I’m a grown ass man— ”
Interrupting him, not giving him time to finish you blurt, “Doesn’t make you less of one just because you’re upset.”
His teeth clench so hard they almost crack, his hands balled into fists at his sides, the orange juice container crumbling in his grasp. Years of therapy as a child did nothing to help him. And neither could you.
“Stop,” he snaps, his eyes pinched tight, a wave of fury washing over him, only seeing red. “Jesus Christ enough! I don’t need this shit right now, I’m gonna be late for work!”
He stomps towards the door, shoving his boots on haphazardly, throwing his leather jacket under his arm, the same leather jacket you had worn the night before, your perfume lingering on the inside.
The smell of you lighting his fire even more, he’s losing all self control.
“What’s your problem anyway?” he grumbles, kicking open the front door, waiting for you to follow. His eyes are wide and full of hurt, anger, crippling anxiety so deep he didn’t even know if he was breathing. But no matter how mad you looked, how many tears you kept wiping away from your lash line, he couldn’t stop.
Keys in the ignition he puts the van into reverse and yanks the wheel quickly, driving like he robbed a bank.
Anytime you try to speak he cuts you off.
“Do you like getting involved with people's lives? Why are you so desperate to know what happened? Need something to gossip about at the salon? So you and your boss can whisper shit about me again? Hmm? ”
“What the fuck are y—” you try to say, but he cuts you off again, he’s raging war on himself and on you, it’s far from over, no surrender flag in sight.
“That must be it right?” he preens, barely stopping at the stop lights as he flies to your work, tires squealing around corners, “I’m here because you need something to talk about, the well full of hot gossip of Hawkins must have run dry. Well guess what sweetheart? It’s not anything I haven’t heard before.”
He’s so clueless, so expertly out of sync with what you were trying to convey, what you were begging him to understand. The tears are free falling and you don’t stop them, screaming at him, “Eddie!”
“What?!” he barks back, chest heaving with hatred filled lungs and venomous words so toxic they’re burning your skin.
Aching soul and self doubt at an all time low you try to will the words to not shake as you deliver, “do you really think I would hold you while you were sad with any other intention than consoling you!? You were upset and the least I could do after you helped me was try to make you feel better!”
He tried to argue but it’s your turn to cut him off, holding up a hand as he fumed through his nose. He parks in back of the salon, slamming on the brakes as you both jolt forward. “Let it go, Too—”
“I care about you, you stubborn asshole!” You grab your purse between your feet and open the door and jump out.
“Just stop,” Eddie pleads, his eyes brimming with tears, “don’t.”
“I can’t,” you say back in a whisper, your voice breaking at the last syllable, you reach for the door, out of breath and holding in your sobs the best you can, “oh, and for the record— Josie was telling me to be nice to you and give you a chance— my mistake.”
Slamming the door you don’t hear him break, you don’t hear him thrust the heel of his hand into the steering wheel until it aches and burns. His nerves shooting pain through his entire arm. You don’t hear him scream and hate himself as he drives to work, his body soulless, empty, fragile.
-
“Tooty, are you alright?”
“I’m fine,” you tell Josie for the tenth time.
You definitely were not fine.
Distracted the minute you got to work, your mind raced with questions of the unknown. Hurt, confused and pissed off, you had mixed the wrong color formula for your clients hair, resulting in money down the drain from your own paycheck as you threw the mixture away and started it again, for the third attempt.
At 10 o’clock you were folding towels in the back when you realized you had bleached an entire load of darks. The once rich black towels were now faded with splotches of orange.
Eddie’s words had ripped through your heart, hurdling themselves into the deepest parts of you that were sheltered away from anyone, taking up solace in your forbidden soul, hollowing it out.
By noon you were crying while rolling a client's perm rods into her hair, having to step away multiple times before Josie gently told you enough was enough and that you should go home for the day.
Not wanting to call Eddie and get a ride you decided to walk the half mile through town back to your home on Cherry lane.
Kicking a rock with the toe of your shoe for most of the walk home, you mull over the events of the day. Wiping your eyes with the sleeve of your cardigan as you tread along the sidewalk.
-
[Thanksgiving Day]
“Are you sure you don’t want to come with me to Nancy and Jonathan’s? It’ll be fun!”
Eddie is leaned against the driver window of his van, his finger tracing a smiley face into the dust in the dash. “I wish I could, but Wayne and I go fishing every year on Thanksgiving— it’s a tradition.”
Every year since Eddie was ten years old, Wayne took him fishing on Thanksgiving, starting early in the morning and going until sundown, ending the night camping beneath the stars, cooking their daily catch for supper, “save me a piece of pie okay?” he finishes, ruffling up your hair, a shit eating grin on his lips.
Feeling horrible that your car was still out of commission, Eddie had let you borrow the van for the night after you dropped him off at Wayne’s. “And you’re positive it’s okay if I take the van?”
“Does a bear shit in the woods?” Eddie’s laugh spread across his cheeks, the black beanie he has on his head inching closer to falling off every second, “Tooty,” he breathes, his brown eyes dipping into yours, “take the goddamn van and have a good time—and hurry up, you’re gonna be late.”
[2 Weeks prior]
🎶 it was the third of June another sleepy dusty delta day
I was out choppin’ cotton and my brother was baling hay
Bobbie Jo’s tune was ringing in his ears all day— no matter how loud he cranked the radio in the shop, no matter how many times he tried to hum a different tune— her -* words rang through his mind like silk, coating his skin and implementing old memories he didn’t want brought up.
He was filled with fury. A ticking time bomb. It should have been no surprise when Sean and Aaron started poking at him, how unhinged he would become.
“What’s got your panties in a twist, Munson,” Sean sneers, changing the oil on the Ford truck, “your little girlfriend finally figure out you’re a fucking loser?”
Eddie had already thrown a wrench across the shop out of frustration when he realized he forgot his lunch. He slammed the hood of a blue minivan on his fingers right after morning break, and now Aaron and Sean were starting in on him.
His breath erratic, trying to breathe through his nose to calm himself down but failing. His misery over taking his nerves. He grunts through barred teeth, “We aren’t dating,”
Sean perks up at the news, his wiry mustache splattered across his top lip like a squashed caterpillar, decrepit and sparse. “Oh shit, so she’s single, huh?”
“Damn,” Aaron chimes in, his hands cupped around his junk as he shakes it back and forth between his greasy hands, “what I wouldn't give to be balls deep in that pretty little mouth, that’d shut her up for good.”
“You’re skating on thin ice, fuck rag, I’d watch my mouth if I were you.” Eddie’s shoulders are tensed, adrenaline at an all time high. Fight or flight screaming through his blood racing through his heart and speeding up his heart rate.
“Whatchya gonna do about it, freak?” Sean spits pushing Eddie in the chest, “ ‘Name the time and place’ yeah motherfucker? How about right here right now?” Standing toe to toe with Eddie, but a foot shorter he peers into Eddie’s face, egging him on.
“Ever since you moved in with that whore you’ve been such a little bitch about everything— I mean I get it, honestly— Chad always said she had the sweetest p—”
Sean chokes on the last word as Eddie’s fist connects with his cheek, his rings would end up leaving bruises in their shape on his skin for weeks to come.
Sean throws a punch at Eddie but he is quick to dodge it, years of fighting in the trailer park giving him an upper hand. Blood spews from Sean’s mouth as Eddie upper cuts him in the chin, his tongue almost split in half as he bit down from the impact.
Eddie is blinded momentarily as Aaron socks him in the eye, a deep purpling plum colored bruise that took weeks to heal. Stumbling backwards his back hits the red sun faded tool box, Sean came swinging a crow bar out of nowhere and hit Eddie in the ribs, a groaning thud as the sound of his bones shatter in his body.
Behind his back, he reaches for whatever is closest, a wrench wrapped tight in his fingers gets thrown in the air at Sean, hitting him in the throat and knocking him over onto the smooth concrete of the shop floor, gasping for breath.
Aaron tackles Eddie, sending him into the air compressor, four fists are swinging and bodies shifting as they both struggle for dominance. Eddie’s lip is cut and his eye is swollen almost shut. Aaron’s nose is dripping blood on Eddie’s shirt as he punches him in the same place that Sean hit him with the crow bar. He’s able to get a knee up between Aaron and himself and twists his body to get above him, and when he does he lays punch after punch into Aaron’s swollen bloody face.
With each rocking fist connecting with flesh, Eddie has one thing on his mind, you. He thinks about the foul way they had disrespected you. The way you had cried when you told him you couldn’t stop caring about him. How he was close to losing you because he couldn’t open up and let you in. How terrified you must have been for all those years when you were scared and alone, nobody there to hold you and comfort you. And while he’s pummeling Aaron into a bloody pulp of cracked teeth and swollen eyes, it finally clicks for him.
-
The fight didn’t last long, but was effective enough to get Eddie suspended for the rest of the work day— and Aaron and Sean got a nice week's vacation with no pay.
Eddie’s knuckles are coated in a mixture of blood and spit. His jaw aches as he drives home with one eye open, it’s the clearest he’s seen in a long time.
[Thanksgiving]
“Fish ain’t bitin’ much are they?” Wayne and Eddie have both cast and reeled in their rods multiple times with zero luck. The small boat Eddie had gifted Wayne with for Christmas 3 years ago stood at still waters of Lover’s Lake, both men chilled to the bone.
“Nah, they sure aren’t. Probably no fish left in here after the summer you had.”
Since Eddie had graduated, Wayne dropped down to part time at the plant and went to dayshift. A true dream for him and for Eddie, offering to pick up most of the bills, a silent thank you for all the years that Wayne has taken care of him when he didn’t have to, but did anyway— the only caring person in his life, until you.
The wind whips through Eddie’s hair, tugging the curls out from the confinements of the cotton stocking cap snug on his head. The once crisp autumn foliage is soggy like forgotten cereal in a bowl of milk around them from the previous nights rain, chilling the usual humidity from the air and adding a depth of ice in their veins as they shake and shiver in their jackets, Eddie in his leather jacket, Wayne in a weathered faded khaki canvas coat.
Ruddy hands with silvered rings light two cigarettes, passing one to a pair of calloused, aged hands. Inhaling deeply and blowing warm smoke in the whispering winds of the quiet fog around them.
Wayne runs a rough hand over his sunned scalp, itching the small patches of hair left, as he readjusts his tattered cap, letting the nicotine settle into his bones and soothe the stubborn ache in his jaw, like ointment on an arthritic joint, “you ever gonna bring that girlfriend over to meet me or you keepin’ her alls to yourself?”
“What girl?” Eddie says quickly, coyly, blowing smoke into the space between the two of them, hiding his mouth with the curtain of his curls, opening the coffee can full of mud and worms, pushing another worm on the end of his hook.
Wayne hadn’t talked to him about girls since he was fifteen when he walked into his room and tossed a box of rubbers at his chest and grumbled, “use ‘em,” under his breath.
Irritation blooms against Wayne’s brows, “boy, don’t play dumb with me,” he cracks at Eddie, a false stern voice in his gruff voice, “the one you’re dating you little wise ass.”
“I’m not dating anyone, Wayne.” Eddie says, pretending to be preoccupied with the tackle box full of neon fishing lures and bobbers. He runs his thumb over the rough cracked surface of the faded red and white bobber, the same one Wayne gave to him when they started fishing all those years ago. The memory brings a smile to his face.
The gruff scoff from Wayne’s throat suggests bullshit to his ears from his nephew’s mouth, a noise Eddie has heard many many times in the two decades he had been living with Wayne, one that told him that he better tell the truth, and right the hell now. No matter that he now towers over Wayne, he’ll always be his boy, the wide eyed boy with a mountain of guilt on his shoulders, his son.
And as Wayne always knew— the more he poked and prodded, the more Eddie would clam up. They sit in comfortable silence, the slight breeze rippling the water on Lover’s Lake, rocking the small fiberglass boat and swaying the two Munson men gently.
How could he describe the relationship between you and him? Not dating, but hopefully more than friends. He didn’t have many friends that he’d willingly let help him battle his inner-most demons. In fact, Gareth and Jeff were still left in the dark about it. The breeze continues to grow frigid and burrows itself between the layers of his clothing, freezing his skin and peppering it with goose bumps. The chattering of Eddie’s teeth remind him of Steve’s birthday when he offered you his jacket, and opted to freeze the rest of the night just so you wouldn’t be chilly.
It’s simple really, he admitted it to Steve, but somehow admitting it to Wayne was worse than the hit from the box of condoms against his chest.
He says it all too fast, out of breath, and barely audible. But he says it. And a smile spreads across the weathered leather of Wayne’s face, pulling his mustache up, a glimmer of a sparkle in his eye, “see, now was that so bad?”
-
[2 weeks prior]
His knuckles ache, and he’s not positive if it’s from the blows to Aaron’s face or the way he’s gripping the steering wheel. His realization while busting open Aaron’s cheek made him eager to get home. Eager to clean himself up before he went to pick you up from work.
The house is silent as he walks through the garage, his angry hurtful words bounce back to him off the kitchen walls, the counter. The orange juice was still where he left it, crumpled and misshapen.
He truly was an asshole. Hurting the one person who cared for him other than Wayne. He sits down in a chair and unties his boots, blood splattered on the toes. Peeling the sweat stained work coveralls from his body, he tosses them down the steps to the basement, leaving them for later.
He stands partially naked in the kitchen, clad in only his underwear and socks, the kick of adrenaline wearing completely off, the promise of pain against his broken ribs rings searing heat through his body.
A glance around the kitchen stills the breath in his lungs. The kitchen is a wreck from the waffle night, the colossal beginning of a budding relationship that he was currently in the trenches hoping to fix. The once silky batter is now hard, pale concrete cemented onto the sides of the glass mixing bowl. The waffle iron was open, sprayed with cooking oil that was sitting with its cap off on the counter. The plates were sticky with cold syrup and now styrofoam resembled waffles, still on the table from where you had both sat. Forks and knives laying atop the ceramic plates in a haphazard way, awaiting the return of warm hands to finish their job.
Without thinking he starts to clean up, filling the sink with hot water, scraping the food from the plates into the garbage, putting away the orange juice and the left out butter and cooking spray. In no time the kitchen is sparkling and Eddie’s body is screaming at him to rest. The cuts on his knuckles are cleaned but swollen, soap stung from the water. His side aches, adrenaline slipping away with every growing minute.The pain is almost unbearable.
A clicking noise from the front door has him turning suddenly, a slight panic in his nerves as he stands stone still.
-
A block from the house, your tears return, cold, and stuck to your face like ice on poles. You’re exhausted, stomping the entire way home drove shin splints up your legs, the cold cramping dull in your calves. Thinking of Eddie the entire way home you are dumbfounded— completely and utterly confused at his reaction. How could he not know how you felt about him? Why was he begging you to stop? Wondering if you’ll ever get the answers to those questions you wipe your nose with the sleeve of your cardigan. If he was going to guard himself again, and put the barriers back up— so could you.
The door is stuck as you try to open it, pushing and shoving your shoulder into it, it finally gives, stumbling your way into the living room in the most ungraceful way. The scent of freshly wiped surfaces sting your nose and stop you dead in your tracks. You weren’t expecting to be relieved from seeing Eddie, but the relief is short lived as you notice the deep violet and indigo bruise painting his eye.
“Ed—,” you gasp, covering your mouth as you run towards him, foregoing the screaming in your legs, “wh— oh my God!”
His eyes melt at your appearance, scarlet rimmed eyes and wet cheeks take him in, eyebrows dipped into unease and apprehension. He feels your hesitancy, thick like fog surrounding you both as you reach your fingers up to his cheek. Ice cold pads of your fingertips skim the tender skin of his face, brushing the wispy hair of his bangs from his eyes with your fingertips to get a better look at him.
He doesn’t speak, barely breathing at your gentle touch on his face. The frosty coolness of your fingers burn his skin with every silky movement of your hands. He tries to avoid your eyes, avoid the pain he knew was from earlier and his cowardice.
Fingers dancing along his skin, you scan over his torso, the same way you did on the morning after Halloween, the bruising from the mishap of the steps is replaced by a pattern of splotchy deep bruising.
“They’re broke,’’ Eddie groans, his split lip ripping open, from him trying to force a smile, “looks cool though right?”
Using humor to deflect the true way he feels was an easy defense mechanism for him, but you won’t bite. Won’t take the bait he’s dropping into your waters, won’t nibble at his small offering.
Trying not to break, you stand your ground, “what happened?”
“Nothing that wasn’t deserved,” Eddie says, eyes casted downwards at your hands near his ribs, “I was just having a shitty enough day— my own fault—“, he adds quickly, his eyes flicking to yours, not wanting to put salt into the already festering wound he created, “I—uh—I took care of it.” He says in a final explanation.
“And now I’m going to take care of this,” he motions between you both, sliding his hands down your arms and settling them in your hands.
“Tooty— I,” he exhales as deep as his lungs will allow given the break in his ribs, spilling his stitched up heart to you, letting the walls fall with each word, “I’m sorry— I’m so fucking sorry. Nothing I do or say will ever amount to how shitty I feel for making you cry, for pushing you away. I’m a coward when it comes to this type of shit, and it was too heavy— too muddy for me to explain. I figured if I’d shut you out you’d go back to how it was before— before Harrington’s birthday, before Halloween befo—,”
A shake of your head and a sharp intake of breath come from your body. Did all of this mean nothing to him? The flirting, the gentle touching, the sweet gestures? It was all just something he wanted to forget?
Voice small and shallow, “Is that what you want Eddie? To go back to how it was before, when you first moved in?”
A single tear falls from your face, and without thinking, without second guessing himself or wondering if you would think he was being weird, Eddie is quick to brush it away with the curl of his forefinger. His swollen knuckles are tight and achy. He tries to hide a hiss from his teeth, wanting to live in this euphoric moment for as long as he can, as long as you will allow him to. He extends both hands now to your face, his rough thumbs rubbing over the expanse of your cheeks, fingers behind your ears, curling into your hair.
“I want,” he breathes easy now, as if the touch of your skin on his fingers mended his broken bones, his eyes soft where it allowed, one still swollen shut, “I need you to know that I care, too— and I don’t want you to ever quit caring about me— baby, I’ve cared about you for years—- and I can’t get myself to stop.”
And when a sob breaks from your chest, he pulls you into him, “c’mere,” the sensation steals the breath from your lungs, you’ve never been touched with such gentleness, such care. He’s holding you as if you’re glass. Fragile, cracked and held together with shitty Elmer’s glue that was a tempting snack for children. It’s so delicate the way he’s stroking your skin.
Minutes or hours pass you’re not sure. His warmth engulfs you, his musky cologne and spiced deodorant is a gentle blanket around you. Wrapping you in a swaddle of his admiration.
His hair tickles your cheeks, tattooed arms are twisted in your hair,and wrapped around your back. The shine of your tears coat his bare chest, his chin rests on top of yours breathing in your hair shushing you gently.
You spend the night working Eddie’s rings from his already swollen fingers, pressing ice packs to his bruises and spreading neosporin on his cut lip, rubbing it gently with the tip of your finger, Eddie giggles at the concentration on your face and the way your tongue is poked out.
He’s infatuated with the way you make him feel. His heart soaring higher and higher with each delicate touch of your fingers on his skin.
He’s up late that night, stomach full from your homemade chicken noodle soup and his heart even more full. Flying higher than cloud nine, your sweet face on his mind.
-
[Thanksgiving]
A sadistic voice echoes from your tv screen, “a little young for ya isn’t she Richie? BEEP BEEP RICHIE!”
Richie Tozier sips the Dixie cup of water, leaning against the bookcase in the Derry library, Pennywise continues his antics of torture as balloons drop from the ceiling, popping with blood spluttering on the library go-ers faces, oblivious to the fantasy nightmare Pennywise ensues.
The front door opens with a thud as a shriek and the popcorn bowl on your lap goes flying through the air. Eddie walks hurriedly through the door. A shivering spine of fear and realization hits you all at once. His boisterous laugh reverberates the living room walls as he picks popcorn from your hair, and places it in his mouth, a loud crunch between his teeth as he plops down next to you on the couch.
“Think you got your holidays mixed up, sweetheart— it’s Thanksgiving, Halloween was last month.”
Rolling your eyes you make a face to mock him, which only fuels his fire and has his cold fingers jabbing into your sides and tickling you so hard you scream out. Begging him to stop.
“Don’t!,” you squeal, holding your breath and giggling at his unrelenting tickling. He finally gives up after your face has gone red and your hair is a mess, laughing tears rolling down your cheeks.
Eddie sits back on the couch taking a huffing breath, a wild smile spreading from ear to ear, “that’s what you get for watching IT without me!”
Scoffing, you pick up the bowl of popcorn and the paled yellow crunchy kernels spilled on the ruby red throw blanket, “wait, weren’t you supposed to be camping with your uncle tonight?”
Eddie breathes out a sigh, bending at the waist to gather the kernels off the floor. The rest of the fishing trip with Wayne, Eddie spent it quieter than he had ever been, contemplating his next move, how could he show you that he was serious? How could he let you in? Show you his ugly past without scaring you, without you running for the hills? The answer was easy.
“I have something— somewhere I wanna show you,” he whispers, standing to his full height. Looking for the familiar mischievous glimmer in his eye, you are surprised by the genuine sparkle replacing it. His face his earnest, almost a look of doubt on his lips, scared of your reaction.
He peels the blanket from your lap and reaches down, his hand held out extended to yours, “come with me?”
-
The air is bitter. The driveway is glittering with a sequined frost, dancing with the shine of the street lights. Warm breath fills the inside of Eddie’s van as he slots the key into the ignition and fires it up, cranking the heat. Snuggling further into your knitted scarf, hiding the chill of your nose as Eddie backs down the driveway, heading out of town.
It doesn’t take long to get to where he was going, the drive in silence had you questioning what was going on in his mind. The path was overgrown, hidden from the road, hidden from anyone who didn’t know that it was there. The headlights of the van bob along with each sunken hole on the dirt drive. Jostling the van this way and that.
Nestled into thick trees past an old loose and corroded barbed wire fence, in place for property lines, sits a small house, paint chipped and barely visible. The roof was caved in by a large tree falling on it, the sagging porch still had bleached yellow crime scene tape hanging on by threads to the moss eaten pillar.
Eddie throws the van in park, sniffling slowly and looking around. “This uh,” he stutters, clearing his throat, “this is where I lived with my mom, my old man was in and out most of the time—drunk or in jail, I don’t remember him being here that much except the last time.”
Silence is golden, and you give him your undivided attention as he twists in his seat, bent knee leaning on the door frame.
“That,” he says pointing to the fallen tree in the back, “was an apple tree, apples this big around I swear,” he motions his hands in a circle, a chuckle in his throat, “we didn’t live here for very long, a year, or two maybe…”
His voice fades, and at first he second guesses bringing you here. He can imagine you piecing this puzzle of woe together, his life. The tragic tale of Eddie Munson, he didn’t spin a web of luxuries for you to pretend with him for a moment, a second, that he was anything other than what he was—but when your cotton gloved fingers slide into his, interlacing them—it gives him the courage, the resilience to continue.
“…I was six when it— when she was… he—,” he trails off, unable to finish, but it doesn’t take a genius to connect the dots. The abandoned house, the barely-there flicker of yellow tape, she wasn’t only dead— she was murdered, by his father’s hand.
Comprehending what he’s getting at, you can practically hear his heart breaking. Eyes never leaving his face, you take him in, his eyes are wet as he blinks back tears, using his other hand to pinch the inner corners of his eyes, and hide behind his hair, his face is ashen, once ruddy cheeks from when he came home and tickled you is now swallowed by stale ash, sucking the life from his eyes, his cheeks, his soul.
“.. right in front of me…” he hangs his head low, sniffing quietly, “Wayne took me in after that.”
Eddie and you were alike in more ways than you had thought, although your parents were still alive, they were equally absent from your life, much like Eddie’s parents. Sure you both had people who took care of you, and as sweet as the gesture was, it was never really the same. The aching torture of having to defend for yourself, put a brave face on for your temporary care takers so you don’t seem like a bother to them, so they won’t worry about the weight of taking you in— was all too familiar.
“Eddie,” you whisper softly, rubbing his hands with your thumbs.
Yearning and breaking for him, the cords of your heart reach to his, tethering them together as you slide over the center council, and carefully land into his lap. He’s surprised at first by your brazenness, but once you wrap your arms around his neck and hold him into you, he melts like chocolate at your heated touch.
Your fingers tug into his hair at the nape of his neck, his nose and lips make their way in between your scarf and your neck, the slight chill against your skin sends goosebumps down your spine, a throbbing in your core.
Realization spreads through your heart, your brain, the hair follicles on your head, the painted nails on your toes. Holding him, him holding you, his arms around you, your arms buried in his hair, his fingers rubbing patterns into your back as he sighs deeply and regulates his breath—for the first time in your life, you realize this is what love feels like.
To be loved and to be in love. It was undeniable. Right? Friends didn’t do this. Roommates didn’t do this. But two people who cared deeply for one another and were bonded together by more than just traumatic circumstances? That was love.
In this moment, nothing else matters.
It’s just you and him.
Him and you.
The flutter of your heart short circuits as it seeps hot sticky love all over your face, blooming warmly in your cheeks. Grasping him tighter, you pull away, settling your forehead into his. Whiskey poured eyes staring back into yours, for a brief second you swear you can feel his heart flutter with yours, beating as one.
Eddie doesn’t play his music loud on the way back. A comfortable echoing still in the van as it clunks along the road. His voice barely above a whisper when he speaks. He feels satisfied. Happy even? Like the weight of the world was off of his shoulders by you simply knowing his past. You didn’t ask questions and in the moment he didn’t need you to. His arms wrapped around you was more than enough, your fingers twirling in his hair, the smell of your perfume behind your ear. The way you let him grieve, let him take you somewhere he hasn’t gone in years, was something he’d appreciate for a lifetime to come.
Once home it’s like any normal night, only he doesn’t tease you. He doesn’t fight over the bathroom or use your toothbrush, he doesn’t argue when you pop Christmas Vacation into the VCR, even though you can quote the entire movie. He’s completely engulfed by you, watching you brush your hair, the extra roll of the waistband of your pajama pants. The ridiculous colors of your fuzzy socks you insisted on wearing now that the weather was colder.
He’s never felt nervous around a girl before, usually throwing himself around, showing off his exquisite rack like a stacked buck in rut, rubbing his antlers on trees, showing his mighty dominance.
But you weren’t just another lonely girl looking for a night with a lead singer, or a girl pretending to be in love with him just so she could score coke from his supplier while also fucking him behind his back, and you definitely weren’t a faceless girl that he plowed to forget it all.
Meaning much more to him than just some silly fuck, or a high school “sweetheart” that ended up being a heartless cunt, or a dumpster for his cum.
No.
You were much more than that, to him.
More than a roommate, more than a friend, more than Eyeball’s bratty fucking sister.
He could write sonnets about the little lines in between your brow when you pulled your eyebrows together, usually when you were mad at him. He could sing songs about your laugh, not the small polite one, the loud one, the one that rang every doorbell to his heart and and he gladly answered. He could hum a tune of gratitude about your cooking and the silent ways you care for him and your close friends. He’d get his ass kicked by the entire male population of Hawkins if it meant keeping you safe.
You were it for him.
The only one to make him feel, the only one he wanted to see at the end of the day, in the morning when he got up.
Watching you giggle and let out a yawn, he places a couch pillow between his hip and yours gesturing for you to lie down. He almost goes into cardiac arrest when you move the pillow entirely, your head resting in his lap. A sleepy smile on your face as you tug the blanket under your chin.
Yup.
You were it for him.
And he's a sucker, addicted to the way you made him love you so effortlessly.
Tumblr media
hope you all enjoyed this volume! volume ix is where it heats up 🔥
@big-ope-vibes @br0ck-eddie @b-irock @loveshotzz @mopeymopeymouse @shiftingtherain @courtingchaos @nightonblogmountain @word-wytch @ghost-proofbaby @hanobe8 @abibliophobiaa @joejoequinnquinn just a few of the coven 🩵🩷
READ MORE
This is for you
*sacrifices 🖕🏼
1K notes · View notes
Text
i will not accept shane spouse room slander anymore im sick of it
I'm so mad at everyone who is mad at Shane's spouse room and i cant keep silent about it anymore
let me start by saying yes Shane was my first ever spouse in SDV and no i was not thinking i could fix him i was just impressed by his progress and self improvement so i had my character marry him
then i went online to see what are people saying about him and i was SHOCKED everyone was so mean to him and were absolutely wronggggggggggg about him
this man does improve himself he absolutely is better after marriage and everyone that's mischaracterizing that because of his spouse room is a coward sorry i don't make the rules
facts: Shane goes to therapy and starts getting his alcoholism under control by eliminating the source of his pain which is wasting his life away at joja and doing something he loves which is raise blue chickens THAT HE MADE MIGHT I ADD HE INVENTED A NEW BREED OF CHICKENS BTW. that last point alone pisses me of so hard because people so often over look it! he is just as smart as Maru just as creative as Eliot and just as ambitious as Sam, let me repeat myself HE INVENTED A NEW BREED OF CHICKEN WHILE HE WAS DEPRESSED AND SUFFERING OF ALCOHOLISM.... recognize his brilliance please
so that means people saying he falls back into his old habits because he has a six pack in his room is wrong, imo he stops being an alcoholic and goes back to having drinking be a hobby he does while gaming or hanging out with friends at the bar THAT'S THE POINT UR SUPPOSED TO GET FROM HIS HEART EVENTS
yes his room has mud tracks but consider this this man's WHOLE JOB is to RAISE CHICKENS IN A COOP !!!!! chickens who again he literally invented their breed who track mud shit and drop feed on the floor of the coop he is in all day!!! OF FUCKING COURSE HES GONNA HAVE MUD ON HIS SHOES!!
he works all day for his blue chickens and then just wants to come in and relax playing a video game and drinking a beer if he was a horrible dirty alcoholic like people claim he is he would track mud ALL OVER THE HOUSE AND DIRTY UP ALL THE HOUSE but no its just his tiny hobby room
you as a farmer also work all day on chores and after you are done you also just wanna do something fun to relax and guess what YOU HAVE THE ENTIRE HOUSE EVERY ROOM IN THE HOUSE TO MAKE INTO YOUR HOBBY ROOM some of you fill the house with kegs because you are making it your thing hell one of my farmers who was a witch had an entire room that's just crystals potions and a fucking cauldron , in my Shane save i had a room LINED with fish tanks that was my farmers Hobby, do you think Shane gets mad that i had 4 to 6 fish tanks running all day with puffer fishes and some legendary fishes stinking up the house?? NO because he gets his hobby room and the farmer gets their hobby room everyone keeps to their space period.
i think everyone needs to understand that having a messy hobby room is not a bad thing and that Shane and the other spouses have a right to their own room to look however they want and it doesn't have to match the house
everyone also needs to look at Shane in a better light please I'm begging you to let characters have small flaws and not be squeaky clean perfect
Shane sought help he is helping himself and trying to be better but that doesn't mean he doesn't get to indulge in some guilty pleasures he is human and is aloud to be one even while still in recovery! the difference now is that he HAS CONTROL OVER ALCOHOL AND GAMING CONSUMPTION AND IS NOT SPIRALING OUT OF CONTROL LIKE BEFORE he has job he loves a family he takes care of and he makes sure he doesn't dirty up his entire house but gives himself a break in his ONE room and doesn't stop himself form having fun doing the things he enjoys without over indulging or falling into bad habits.
Edit: i know in the end the drinks are non alcoholic as confirmed by him and i mentioned beer and drinks cause i know there is non alcoholic Versions of them som.. but as i said im adressing the MISSCHARACTERIZATION of shane by the shane haters who didn't go through his heart events hence me saying "you are supposed to learn all this from his heart events" cause they dont go through them :D
Anyway,
in conclusion SHANE IS GOOD SPOUSE, a good man and an inventor in his own right. yall just need to be gentle to him in your judgment cause man is he trying his earnest and that needs to be recognized. i mean look at him look at this healthy man <3
Tumblr media
264 notes · View notes
pedal-writes · 6 months
Text
Lloyd garmadon hcs (romantic & reg hcs)
Tumblr media
A/N: This is first post on here 😭 I’m super into ninjago right now so I might as well write abt it. And Lloyd is super pookie bear 🫶
Romantic:
-When you guys first start dating, Lloyd is a bit distant and awkward since A. He’s never been in a legitimate relationship before and B. He has insane trauma from Harumi.
-But over time, he’ll start to warm up to you and he falls so hard.
-Loves to read comics with you, it’s such a guilty pleasure (and he’s a big nerd.)
-When he’s with you, he’s always holding your hand or resting his hand on your lower back. He’s pretty protective for a lot of reasons lol.
-Very prone to venting to you.
-Every once in awhile, he takes you out in ninjago city for a date on a rooftop of a building. It’s not the best place for a date but he’s not much of a romantic 🤷‍♀️
-Always takes care of you when you’re sick. He makes soup and tea for you, and sits by your side, holding your hand while talking about whatever.
-He’s such a cuddle bug!! He loves laying on your chest while you tangle your fingers in his hair. And vice versa.
-Loves to kiss you on your face, esp your cheek and your nose. Seeing your face get all blushy after he surprises you with a kiss really makes him happy.
-Feels a little self conscious around you about certain things, like his dad or his oni form since they’re kind of touchy subjects. But a little reassurance from you will help his self esteem a ton.
-he likes it when you braid his hair or play with it in any way,
-if you’re up to it, lloyd loves training with you. Even if he always manages to beat your ass accidentally 😭
-When you two are together, Kai will do EVERYTHING in his willpower to embarrass Lloyd for funsies.
-One time, he totally showed you a picture of when Lloyd was little and that atrocious bowl cut. Let’s just say Kai was locked out of the monastery for a good 3 days 😁
-He would most definitely call you nicknames like “baby” or a shorter version of your full name
-He try’s keeps it simple bc he doesn’t want to be like one of those cringy “pookie bear” couples lmao
-Misako and Wu would definitely love you immediately after Lloyd introduces you (more so misako), no questions asked.
-(based on a rewrite of crystalized I’m writing soon 🫶) Garmadon though? It depends. If you get to know him a bit better, then he’ll probably warm up to you. He’s just a bit weary because of the whole harumi thing.
-Kinda same with the Ninja honestly, but they’ll warm up to you super quick when they see how you treat lloyd and how happy you make him. They just want the best for him is all.
General:
-Lloyd really values his hair, like a ton. He takes super good care of it. And I really like to think after the events of crystalized, he started to actually grow his hair out.
-And by the time of dragons rising, his hair is all the way down to his lower back (he puts it in a low ponytail most of the time for combat reasons.)
-He’s both Japanese and Chinese!
-demiromantic/sexual and omnisexual!!
-Looked up to Nya as a mother figure when he was little, and still does. He loves misako but resents her deep down.
-Has a little stubble in DR, kinda canon but whatevs.
-Has a pretty good singing voice, but only really does it in private.
-Outside of his Gi, the clothes he usually wears is just a jacket, a t-shirt and jeans 😭 he has like 15 jackets in his closet (he’s just like me fr)
-Has scars like all over his body, and some on his face from like the millions of battles he’s been in.
-He’s a little chubby, but has pretty muscular arms (🤭)
-Lloyd has like small non-human features that nod to the fact that he’s half oni and dragon.
-Like pointy ears, sharp teeth, and slitted pupils.
-Sometimes when he’s in his feels, probably around crystalized, he feels as if he wants to abandon his role as the green ninja and live a simpler life. Anakin skywalker core tbh.
-Still has an adoration for candy.
-Every once in awhile, he still heads to Ninjago Doomsday Comix to buy a new issue of a comic he likes.
-He would probably enjoy music like Radiohead and mitski. He’s THE boy loser ever.
A/N: I can’t think of much else but I hope you guys enjoyed these!! I’ll write at my own pace for a little bit and then I’ll open requests. I gotta make a carrd sometime soon lmfao 😭
( @weirdotaku1000 these are the hcs I was working on!!)
505 notes · View notes
kissitbttr · 10 months
Note
you think miguel would have a positive reaction when he finds out you like him?
i’d like to think he’d be sooo awkward about it lmao. also not knowing how to react (+doesn’t even believe it)
-
he’s never had any real relationships before (unless with one many years ago) , maybe few flings here and there but it was never that serious. talking to people has never been his forte, that man is too fucking stoic that others would basically mistaken him as a rock. he holds too much of serious conversations and never know how to let things go, so to some, that could be an ultimate deal breaker.
there had been times where he got hit on multiple times, and he always brushed them off by saying ‘beat it’
he’s never willing to try again. not like he needed to anyway. his mind is already occupied with work.
but then came along you.
you with your pretty eyes,pretty hair, cute bubbly personality and flirty persona that got everyone hooked. he’s seen how you interact with others and he hates it. because you’re so distracting that it would make the others lose focus and he doesn’t appreciate that. he hates it.
or maybe the reason he hates it so much it’s the fact that you always flirt with Ben and call him ‘puddin.’ always running up to him and give him a hug—sometimes he’d see you wrap your legs around him too.
why would you do that? don’t you know that he fucking. hates it?
why would you ever create a nickname only for Ben? what about the others? why not him? why not Miguel?
do you like Ben?
Miguel doesn’t even know why it bothers him, but it does keep him up at night. he doesn’t like you, does he? you two barely talked and even when you do talk it’s mainly work matters. he refuses to like you.
“you’re thinking about her again, aren’t you?”
Lyla’s playful voice snaps him out of his train of thoughts as he quickly remains his posture,
Miguel clears his throat. “don’t know what you’re talking about.” his brows furrowing as his eyes remain focus on his computer screen,
“oh come on, you’re not fooling anybody. i can see the way you look at her when she’s talking or laughing. you’ve got heart eyes, my man.” Lyla teases, smirking lightly. “and i also remember correctly how you almost smash a laptop towards Ben when you saw him with her at the cafeteria and you gave him a ‘pep talk’?”
“because it wasn’t professional. this is not a place where two coworkers can flirt with each other as they please.” he responds lamely, knowing that is not a good enough excuse for Lyla to believe. she’s smarter than that.
“one. i didn’t say anything about them flirting. two. Ben came out of your office shaking and refused to talk to anyone for days! you’re crazy you know that?”
Miguel rolls his eyes, waving his hand over. “get back to work Lyla.”
“you like her.”
“no i don’t” he lies, gulping slightly. see that’s the thing about him. when he lies, he gets nervous. and Lyla can see that crystal clear.
“oh my god you totally do! i knew my instincts never wrong. Jess thought the same too”
“what the—“
“you know, usually? when a guy likes someone he’d ask the girl out. Not being a creep about it and threaten almost everyone at work to stay away from her.”
“i do not. like her” he emphasizes quite heavily, pinching between his forehead with his finger and thumb. “this is not important Lyla, we’ve got better things to do.”
as she about to say what a bad liar he is, she sees a silhouette of a woman walking into the office. you’re entering the room with a smile on your face and give Lyla a small wave as she returns one,
“speak of the angel herself. gotta go!” Lyla cheery voice causing him to whip his head. “Good luck!”
“wait what?! Lyla! Don’t—“ his voice gets cut off once the hologram disappears, groaning afterwards.
he hears your footsteps getting closer but he tries to keep his composure and not acknowledge you. perhaps he’s being an asshole but hey, what else is new?
“ouch. never met someone who’s very unhappy to see me. you’re definitely the first.” you pout pretending to be hurt, taking few steps closer to where he’s at,
he ignores your comment as he keeps his eyes fixated on the screen. “I’m working. what do you need?”
“just stopping by. it’s getting pretty boring out there you know? Miles is nowhere to be seen, Peter is busy with Mayday, Gwen is catching up with Jess and Hobie— i don’t even want to begin. Thought I’d come and see you.”
his heart definitely isn’t beating hard. definitely not.
“aren’t you usually with Ben? i see the two of you always talking in the hallways. why not go to him?”
you groan, throwing your head back as you start walking around. “ugh! all he talks about is muscles and protein sources! not to mention he never skips flexing. he’s got penis for brain, i don’t why you hired that guy. such a Ken doll.”
Miguel is glad that you aren’t facing him. because you manage to bring a small smile to his face with that comment. you’d never gonna let that one go if you see him smiling.
“well he’s good. he’s a great partner. better than Peter, I’d say. no reason to kick him off.”
“oh I’ll kick him alright” you roll your eyes as if it’s the obvious thing and you miss how miguel tries to hold back his laughter. he likes how feisty you get sometimes,
“have you—eaten already?” miguel awkwardly tries to start a conversation once he realizes the two of you sit there in silence for fifteen minutes. he must’ve think that you’re waiting for him to say something,
your lips curve into a small smirk as you watch how adorable he gets when he’s nervous. scratching the back of his head and trying his best to avoid an eye contact. it’s easy to tell how you make him shrink like a little kid crushing on his classmate.
yeah, Jess and Lyla told you everything. so this would be fun
“nope” you shake your head, rolling the chair closer in front of him as you slightly move forward. you admire the way his eyes stare intently into something, how his lower lip poke out in concentration and the way his thick brows knitted together making it impossible for you to stay sane.
does he know he’s handsome as fuck? and sexy too? his rough image and demeanor maybe look a bit intimidating to some but to you?
biggest turn on.
“why, you wanna take me out to lunch or something?”
he chokes at that, eyes finally looking up to you as he sees the playful smile on your face and the way your head tilt to the side. as if you’re teasing him,
“no. it was just a simple question.” he replies boringly. “why haven’t you eaten yet? it’s almost three. quieres enfermarte?”
“well” you start, moving slowly towards his side with him watching you like a hawk, eyeing every move. “i’m actually waiting for you to buy me lunch. there’s a new Asian cuisine in the cafeteria called beef rendang… i think? and boy it smells so good! why don’t we go together? plus you need a fucking break, man. you’ve been at this shit for hours.”
miguel is both surprised and confused. why the sudden invitation? why are you even talking to him? he lightly scoffs at how bold you are but he will never admit how much he likes it,
“why are you suddenly taken an interest in talking to me?”
“what are you talking about?” you ask playing dumb, looping a finger around the belt hole of your flared jeans. “I’ve always been interested.”
his heart skips at that. and he has no idea if you meant it or actually joking.
he says nothing only a hum. you assume that he’s disappointed with your answer because it isn’t specific. so you decide to continue,
leaning your body forward, you’re close enough to invade his personal space as you pretend to whisper a dark secret. “because i like you. like—like you like you. isn’t it obvious?”the answer is simple. pretty straightforward and you guess that he doesn’t get that often because of how he reacts.
he halts. beautiful eyes widen in surprise as he slowly turns to you who wears the opposite expression. a wide smile painted on your glossed lips, legs swinging back and forth—he admits that you look cute doing that—blinking your eyes rapidly in flirty manner.
you’re the only person who can make him weak on his knees. everyone can see that.
“what?”
“what?”
“what you just said.” he points, now his work left abandoned. deciding to focus on you. “did you mean it?”
“every word.”
“are you sure?”
“why is it so hard for you to believe me?” you ask out of curiosity. brows furrowed as your arms crossed,
“nothing it’s just—“he scratches his head, looking down because he’s afraid if he looks into your eyes he’d form into a puddle. “you were never—you never said anything, carińo. i didn’t even think you like me.”
you nod, crossing your legs. “I’m just gonna ignore how you call me that unless you want me to get down on my knees and give you the best fucking head you will ever have.”
for what it’s like a hundredth time, he blushes at your choice of words. God, you have no filter at all.
“how could i say something when all you do is talk serious shit all the time? can’t even joke with you Miguel. people are basically scared of you. hell! even I’m terrified of you.” you confess,
“is that why you never—call me names?”
“what, a dick? or an ass?”
“no!” he exclaims, sounding offended. wondering if that what you must have thought of him back then. “i mean—you never give me a nickname—only with Ben” he mutters, feeling embarrassed of having to admit that out loud,
you scrunch your nose. “puddin? why is that even—ohhh” a sudden realization hit you and that’s where you laugh, throwing your head back and Miguel looks irritated at the fact you’re laughing,
“something funny?”
you nod your head vigorously, still laughing a bit as you wipe a tear from the corner of your eye. “Jess and Lyla are sooo right. you’re jealous.”
“i’m not!”
“hmm yes you are.” you giggle, seeing how his lips form into a pout and the skin between his eyebrows wrinkled. “that’s cute though. i promise not to tell anyone.”
he huffs, but internally relieved that you’re keeping your mouth shut. he will never hear the end of it by anyone if that one gets out.
“so..” he trails, releasing a small sigh. “you.. like me..?”
once again you nod, “i do.”
“g-good cause uh—i kinda like you too.”
“kinda?” you pretend to get hurt, hand over your heart. “is that all?! I’m quite offended! i poured my heart out to you!”
“ay, bueno listo! a lot! i like you—a lot.” he finally confesses, leg bouncing up and down due to nerves. “i just don’t how to say it or at least—act like it.”
“i can see that. you’re horrible at showing emotions except for anger, Miguel.” you reply, standing from your seat as you extend your hand to him. "but don't worry. i'll show you how to love. now come on."
he quirks an eyebrow, giving you an questioning look. "what are you doing?"
"uhm, getting some food? i'm starved. and you're coming with me. you have to eat something" a smile reaches your lips as he begins to mirror your expression while placing his hand on yours before standing up as well. you like how he towers over you. he’s a freakishly large man
“okay. i’d like that actually, querida.”
you give him a toothy grin. both of your hands are intertwined as the two of you walk towards the exist. you sense Miguel feeling awkward about the hand holding thing so you decide to ease his nerves by rubbing your thumb slightly against his skin.
“oh and also. you shall worry not a single thing about the whole nickname thing. you can choose what you like to be called by me and it’s all yours.”
-
a/n: this turned into a long ass fic im sorry lol
also does this one make sense? i feel like it’s rushed:// nevertheless hope you enjoy!
[i would let this man tear my pu—*phone drops*]
847 notes · View notes
buccini555 · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 - 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭.𝟑
♡ What would it be like to have a secret relationship with one of the city's most dangerous gangsters? (NSFW Imagine)
♡ H e a d c a n o n s/I m a g i n e s .ᐟ .ᐟ
♡ 𝑭𝒕.Kakucho Hitto
𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐫𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐨 . 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐳𝐮 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐲𝐨 . 𝐊𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐨 𝐇𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐨 ♡ . 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐮 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐢 . 𝐑𝐚𝐧 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐢 . 𝐊𝐨𝐤𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐢 𝐇𝐚𝐣𝐢𝐦𝐞 . 𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐨𝐦𝐢 𝐀𝐤𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢
Tumblr media
tw: only submission mention, almost none, he's a sweetheart.
𝗞𝗮𝗸𝘂𝗰𝗵𝗼 𝗛𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗼: For a long time, he kept a small spark of passion alive in his heart for you as soon as he caught a glimpse of you in a place you frequented in common, you ended up talking and becoming good friends, until Kakucho he finally got the courage and ended up declaring himself after meeting you again some time later.
Initially, Kakucho intended to assume this relationship to anyone who wanted to know, however, after thinking about the risks he could expose you to, he just preferred to keep your relationship confidential, even with this clear fact, Kakucho never treated you differently , he remained completely passionate and romantic, being extremely gentlemanly and loyal.
You end up meeting literally anywhere, but Kakucho prioritizes taking you to high-end and more reserved places, whether hotels, restaurants or even his own home, he usually makes some surprises for you when you are at his house, such as welcoming you with roses or crystal necklaces, he does everything to please you and is completely submissive, even though he is a member of one of the city's criminal organizations, his heart melts for you.
Kakucho also has his bad days, but he would never hurt you in any way, when he's like this, the taller one just becomes a little colder and quieter, another fact is that Kakucho would never be aggressive towards you, nor would he even raise his tone of voice, he cannot deny being jealous, however, he keeps them under control and is extremely respectful of your preferences and privacy.
Tumblr media
That same day, two weeks had already passed before your eyes since he last met Kakucho, he would return to see her that night after finishing all the work he had, to eagerly await it, so, you took a shower and dressed in your best clothes, the expectation increased as night fell and intensified even more when you heard a knock on the door, immediately, you wasted no time and went to welcome him, quickly getting up from the sofa in your living room and opening the door with your heart throbbing with anxiety and joy at seeing him again.
"I'm back, my princess-" Before he had the chance to finish speaking, you jumped into his lap, hugging him in silence while even though he was surprised, he held you so intensely when you held him in the hug. "My girl... I missed you so much." Entering through the door and placing you under the sofa, he said, approaching you and making your eyes meet before kissing you.
That definitely wasn't like any kiss, it was different, intense and passionate, the rhythm increased with each movement of your tongues that did the work, even if the air ran out in a few brief moments, you couldn't stop, you needed it. "Promise you'll never be away from me again, Kaku?" Holding the brunette's face, you say in a low tone. "I promise." Looking directly at you while caressing your face, he responds and then gives you a few kisses, laying you down on the sofa and getting on top of your body, his hands roam your body, at first, the caresses are just like innocent touches, then, if they became hotter as the weather heated up, Kakucho caressed your breasts while holding one of his hands on your thigh, making you shiver with each touch and squeeze, you knew you hadn't felt each other for a long time, he really needed you right there.
"K-kakucho..." Amidst sighs, you pronounce the name of the taller one, who immediately turns all his attention to listening to you. "What happened, doll face? Want me to stop?" Kakucho questioned immediately. "I want more." In a few words and with a smirk, you said, looking away with flushed cheeks, so Kakucho immediately complied with your order and without thinking twice he kissed you again, this time, with even more desire to give you pleasure, while kissed you, he raised the hem of your dress, soon, it didn't take long for you to be completely naked in front of him, he looked you up and down making you realize his excitement when he took your hand to his member over his pants that were with the zipper open, you subtly lowered the black boxer shorts he was wearing, leaving his member visible, the pre-cum down your hand, holding it carefully, you began to make light movements up and down with your hand, making him let out a few moans at the same time as he attentively gave you watched him masturbate.
"Fuck... I-I need you, baby, right now." Looking at you with a needy look, he spoke, trying to contain his excitement, Kakucho made you come on top of his lap, being careful as he slowly placed his member in you until you felt it completely inside you. "I want to be yours again." You said, feeling his member pulsate along with your intimacy. "You're mine, you're only mine." Holding your waist, he forced your hips into his while helping you move up and down.
The rhythm increased more and more, keeping you both close to the peak, your bodies werem sweaty and reaching the limit. "I-I, I've missed fucking you, you're so...tight, damn." Putting even more pressure on your waist and hips, he looked at you as if begging for more, worried about you, he made you lie down for fear of tiring you out. "D-don't stop, K-kaku, please." Controlling his breath, you made his request while he penetrated you again. "Yes, baby. I won't stop until you cum on my cock." Going even faster than before, he uttered amidst already tired breathing. "Argh! P-please fuck me, fuck me, p-please!" Hearing you beg for him only made him more excited, he couldn't contain himself anymore so he just went even faster. "I-I'm almost... Y-yeah, that fucking tight pussy drives me crazy..." He said. "P-please, baby, fuck me, I-I need more..." To tease him even more, you continued to ask for more, so it didn't take long for you to reach the peak together. “Do you want, do you want me to cum inside your pretty pussy, hmm, baby girl?” He questioned. "P-please just... K-keep fucking me." As soon as he heard your answer, he could no longer control himself and did so, Afterwards, he removed his dick from inside her pussy, which was dripping with his cum.
After quenching your longing, Kakucho lovingly helped you shower and get dressed again, this time with comfortable nightwear, leaving you to rest next to him in your bed.
174 notes · View notes
arecaceae175 · 1 year
Text
Linked Universe Character Guide
I made this LU character guide for my friends and I thought it might be useful for any new LU fans out there! And also for anyone else who wants to info dump to friends about LU. So here you go :D
These characters are of course based on @linkeduniverse by Jojo! But, disclaimer, this does include some non-canon stuff (primarily the fandom nicknames and some War of Ages things) that’s common in fanfiction :). I made this for fun and for my friends so it includes my favorite tropes, canon and fanon.
Edit 4/4/23: Alt text and image descriptions added. Alt text only describes the official character art image (descriptions of all the images were too long for alt text and they were being cut off by my screen). Image text and other image descriptions are at the bottom of the post.
Tumblr media
(key at the bottom)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Key:
Tumblr media
Image text:
Hero of Time – Time – Old Man, Ancestor (by Twilight), Sprite (by Warriors)     |     Zelda: Lullaby
Games: Ocarina of Time, Majora’s Mask
Character Traits:
Oldest of the Links
Mental age unknown, physical age is probably 30s
Leader of the group, also group Dad
Very decisive and stoic when he’s being leader
Youthful sense of humor
Views the Master Sword as a curse/burden
Twilight’s mentor – Animated skeleton in the Twilight Princess game called Hero’s Shade
Loves his wife Malon so so so much
Important Game Facts and Items:
Majora’s Mask was a 3-day time loop basically, Time was the one to control the movement of time though
He has masks that give the wearer powers
His facial markings come from the Fierce Diety Mask, which gives him god-like fighting power, but he can’t always tell friend from foe
Had a fairy companion named Navi in Ocarina of Time
Image descriptions:
Image 1: Time is holding up Wild's version of Majora's Mask even with his face. His injured eye is open slightly and is completely white, and his facial markings are in focus. His text box says "Besides, with a legend like that, I'd be more afraid of what destroyed the demon."
Image 2: Time has his arm around Malon and is smiling happily. Malon is a middle aged white woman with long red hair. She is wearing a farming dress. She is smiling back at Time.
Image 3: Text above the image says "Post-Games, Pre-LU Time." It is a black and white sketch of Time when he was a young man. His hair is long and braided over his shoulder with fringe coming down around his face. He is wearing a simple undershirt.
Image 4: Time is smirking mischievously. He is seen shoulder-up.
Image 5: Time is smiling talking to Wind. Wind is putting his sword back in his sheath. Time's text box says "In every battle, you have a little more of the look of a hero." Wind is smiling sheepishly and his text box says "…"
Image 6: Time is scowling. He is holding his sword with both hands out to the side as if he was just attacking. There is smoke and debris in the background. End descriptions.
Hero of Twilight – Twilight – Twi, Pup (by Time), Rancher, Ordonian, Wolfie     |     Zelda: Dusk
Game: Twilight Princess                                                          
Character Traits:
Started his journey as an older teen/adult, now early 20s
Good sword skill & marksmanship, best on horseback, animal whisperer
Physically strongest Link
Grew up in a small town, Ordon Village, on a ranch
Brother bickering relationship with Warriors
Big Brother of the group
One of the most emotionally mature Links
He often comforts the others as Wolfie
Wild’s mentor (because Wolf Link can show up in Breath of the Wild)
Mentored by Time (Hero’s Shade) and Time’s blood descendant
Important Game Facts and Items:
One of the only ones to start his journey as an older teen/adult
Was cursed with Shadow Magic and can now turn into a wolf at will using the artifact he wears as a necklace (Shadow Crystal)
His horse Epona sometimes accompanies the group
Had a companion named Midna that he loved but can never see again
Image descriptions:
Image 1: Twilight is scowling and has his arms crossed.
Image 2: Twilight is in his wolf form. The wolf is large and primarily black, with grey fur on his chest, paws, and face. He has the same forehead markings as Hylian Twilight, but they are grey instead of black. Wolfie has his eyes closed but his head up and is laying on the ground. Wild is asleep on his back with one arm draped across him.
Image 3: Twilight as Wolfie at the end of his transformation. There are black cubes surrounding him, signaling the transformation. Wolfie has a metal shackle on his left front leg. His hackles raised and he is growling.
Image 4: Twilight has his shield at the ready. His brows are furrowed in concentration. Light is shining from the upper left corner and it makes his hair look more blonde than usual.
Image 5: Image from Wild's Sheikah Slate. Twilight is wearing his undertunic and none of his other usual clothes. He is smiling at the camera. In the background there is a lake with light shimmering on the water.
Image 6: Twilight is grinning widely. He is holding a staff diagonally in front of him. End descriptions.
Hero of Warriors – Warriors – Wars, Captain, Pretty Boy (by Legend)     |     Zelda: Artemis/Athena
Game: Hyrule Warriors
Character Traits:
War of Ages started when he was an older teen/adult, now mid 20s
Military man, but the good kind, Captain in the Hyrulean Army
Weird relationship with Time- Time is team dad, but during the War of Ages Warriors was his big brother figure
Wind’s mentor
Looks are important to him
Prefers to be in groups, good at communication
Best at strategizing and battle plans and such
Doesn’t trust easily because a lot of his soldiers betrayed him
Emotionally mature
Loves to bicker with Legend
Most likely to have actual field medic training
Important Game Facts and Items
War of Ages
Time and Wind were technically present
Image descriptions:
Image 1: Warriors is showing off the burn scar on his left arm. It covers his hand and forearm. He is sitting next to Wind and Warriors' scarf is over both their shoulders. Wind is holding a mug. He is leaning forward and looking at Warriors' scar in shock.
Image 2: Warriors during battle. The art shows lines from the swing of his sword, but the sword is not in the frame. He is mid-swing. His scarf is billowed out behind him.
Image 3: Warriors is smirking and shrugging. There is a text box, but it is cut off and unreadable.
Image 4: Warriors is speaking, but the text box is cut off and unreadable. The image is zoomed in on his upper body.
Image 5: Warriors during battle. He is crouched down and his shoulders are pointing towards the viewer but he is looking to the side. His sword and shield are both up. His sword is pointing in the same direction as he is looking.
Image 6: Warriors is holding out a cloth covered in black blood. He has a cut above his left eyebrow that is bleeding. There is a text box but it is cut off and the only visible word is "creature." End descriptions.
\Hero of the Four Sword – Four – Smithy, Little One (by Time)     |     Zelda: Dot
Games: Four Swords, Four Swords Adventures, Minish Cap
Character Traits:
Smallest but not the youngest, probably mid teen age now
Only one in the group with a functioning braincell
Very skilled blacksmith
Confident, quiet, calm
Often strategizes with Time and Warriors
Important Game Facts and Items
Friends with Minish, which are a race of small mouse-y creatures that can only be seen by children
Wields the Four Sword, which can split him into four versions of himself: Red, Green, Blue, Vio
Each color displays an aspect of Four’s personality
Keeps this a secret and in LU canon just recently revealed it to Wild. Time also knows
Never wielded the Master Sword, doesn’t have the Triforce of Courage
Image descriptions:
Image 1: Four is split into his four colors: Vio, Red, Green, and Blue. They are standing in a semi-circle and looking at something outside the image. Vio looks contemplative, Red looks upset, Green looks surprised, and Blue looks angry.
Image 2: Four is blacksmithing. He is sitting in front of the forge. He is holding a hammer in his left hand and tongs in his right hand. Both hands have thick leather gloves. In the tongs, he is holding up a horseshoe to inspect.
Image 3: Four is standing next to time with his arms crossed and brows furrowed. Wild's legs are in the frame, and he is on the ground in front of them recovering from an injury. Four's text box says "You think this is gonna (read: going to) be a pattern?"
Image 4: Four during battle. He is leaping backwards out of the way of an axe. He is holding his sword in his left hand and his shield in his right hand. His eyebrows are furrowed. His hair is flying forward as he jumps backward.
Image 5: Four is laughing as he stands next to the Master Sword. Sky is holding the Master Sword with the tip on the ground. The Master Sword is only a few inches shorter than Four. Wind's hand is above Four's head measuring the height difference. End descriptions.
Hero of the Winds – Wind – Sailor     |     Zelda: Tetra
Game: Wind Waker, Phantom Hourglass, Spirit Tracks (?)
Character Traits:
Youngest Link, started his journey at 12, now almost 14
Very fun personality and very expressive
Good at stealth and navigation
Is a pirate
Has a little sister named Aryll
The others look out for him since he’s the youngest, but he wants to be able to prove himself as a capable hero
Likes joking and pulling pranks
Important Game Facts and Items
He can control the wind with his Wind Waker, though this has never been used in LU canon
Started his journey because his sister was kidnapped
Was not originally gifted with the Hero’s Spirit of Courage, he assembled the Triforce during his journey
Killed Ganon at age 12 by stabbing him in the face
Image descriptions:
Image 1: Wind during battle. He is holding a huge two-handed sword and it mid-swing. His eyebrows are furrowed and his mouth is open like he's yelling.
Image 2: Wind is grinning widely and watching a fairy fly. He is holding a bottle in one hand and pulling the cork out of the bottle with his other hand.
Image 3: A full body image of Wind. He is standing like the standing man emoji meme. He is scowling and his frown is squiggly.
Image 4: Wind is gasping in surprise. His eyes are very wide.
Image 5: Ain image of Wind from the side. He is leaning back sightly. He is holding a shield. He looks very much like a child in the image.
Image 6: Wind is grinning widely. He is leaning toward the viewer and his eyes are focused on something off screen. He has one hand curled against his chest. End descriptions.
Hero of the Wild – Wild – Cub (by Twilight and Time), Cook, Champion     |     Zelda: Flora
Games: Breath of the Wild, Tears of the Kingdom
Character Traits:
117 (17 physically)
Survivalist, best archer, crazy good stamina
Only Link that is actually good at cooking
Very prone to injury, a bit reckless, breaks his weapons a lot
Has insecurities about being the only Link that ‘failed’ their mission (this is obviously not true)
Lost his memories when he died, still getting them back
Used to be a knight pre-Calamity Ganon
Mentored by Twilight
He and Hyrule often run off and get lost together
Important Game Facts and Items
Has the Shiekah Slate, the inventory works, bombs and stasis are the only runes still functional. Technically in LU canon he has an enchanted bag, but in fanfics his storage is usually the slate
Scars are from when he died during the Calamity. Shrine of Resurrection fully healed his body internally
Wolf Link (older version of Twilight) helped him on parts of his journey
Image desriptions:
Image 1: Wild is holding his bag tightly with one hand and a soup ladle in the other hand. There are lines on the art implying he was just swinging the ladle. He is scowling. The phrase "grrr" is above his head.
Image 2: Wild is frowning and is very anger. The lines on the image imply he just stood up very quickly. The scars on his face, ear, and neck are purposefully in focus.
Image 3: Wild during battle. He is leaping through the air and his hair is flying behind him. He is holding a sword in one hand and the Sheikah Slate out in front of him with his other hand.
Image 4: Wild is shrugging, grinning, and his eyes are very wide. His expression is very comical. His text box says "SO?"
Image 5: Wild is sitting in a chair in front of a Time and Malon's dining table. He has one hand gently braced on the table. He is smiling sheepishly at something off-screen.
Image 6: Wild is holding his bow with one hand. With the other hand he has three arrows at once nocked on the bow's string.
Image 7: Wild is shrugging and grinning widely at something off screen. There is a text box but it is cut off and unreadable. End descriptions.
The Hero of Legend – Legend – Veteran, Vet     |     Zelda: Fable
Games: A Link to the Past, Link’s Awakening, Oracle of Seasons, Oracle of Ages, A Link Between Worlds, Tri Force Heroes
Character Traits:
Older teen age
Most experienced Link, but chooses not to be a leader
Closest to Hyrule and Warriors, bickering relationship with Warriors
Very magically inclined
Mature for his age, very reliable
Very snarky, tries to act emotionally unaffected by his adventures
Truly loves adventuring and travelling
But likes to do things the right way and know where he’s going
Important Game Facts and Items:
One of his adventures may not have been real (Koholint), and he has a lot of issues surrounding that and the woman he fell in love with during it
Has so many items, has a tool for everything (bit of a hoarder)
Can turn into a pink rabbit sometimes
Ravio is his counterpart from Lorule, they live together
Image descriptions:
Image 1: Legend in his bunny form. It is a very cute pink rabbit and he is still wearing his red sleeveless tunic in bunny form.
Image 2: Legend is smirking and in the middle of telling a story. He has his hands out in front of them as if he is using them to portray his story. There is a text box and it has a lot of words but they are cut off and unreadable. His hair is primarily pink.
Image 3: Legend is smirking and elbowing Wind. Wind is mostly cut off of the frame.
Image 4: Legend is pointing at the viewer and yelling in surprise. His hair is mostly pink, but his roots are growing out blonde. His text box has extra pointed edges to show he is yelling but the words are cut off and unreadable.
Image 5: Legend has a confused look on his face. He is holding his shield but it is resting by his side. His text box is cut out of frame.
Image 6: Legend mid battle. The lines in the art imply he is running toward the viewer. His shield is hooked to his back and he is holding his sword with both hands. His sword has a blue hilt and a red blade.
Image 7: Legend has his chin pointed up and out and looks contemplative. The image has a regal vibe. His text box is cut out of frame. End descriptions.
Hero of Hyrule – Hyrule – Traveler, Rule, Roolie     |     Zelda: Aurora & Dawn
Game: The Legend of Zelda, Zelda II: Adventures of Link
Character Traits:
Mid-teen age
Soft-spoken, kind, just a humble traveler
Doesn’t think he’s as much of a hero or warrior as the others
Handles himself well in battle despite having no formal training
Never gives up
Very magically inclined, and has healing magic
Looks up to Legend since he is Legend’s successor
Loves exploring with Wild
Grew up in a cave
Important Game Facts and Items
Original two Zelda games
His world is kind of a wasteland
Monsters in his world want to use his blood to resurrect Ganon
Never used the Master Sword
Has the entire Triforce
Image descriptions:
Image 1: Hyrule is looking down on the viewer and his hands are glowing with his healing magic. His eyes are closed in concentration. In the bottom of the frame, there are bandages on Twilight's chest.
Image 2: Hyrule is grinning widely and has one arm locked with Wild's. Wild is cut out of the frame. Hyrule is pointing over his shoulder with his thumb. The text is cut off, but the readable part says "curiosity sure doesn't!"
Image 3: Hyrule is standing in the center of the frame. The lighting and his stance make him look very young. Both his arms are extended out of the frame, and on one side there is a sliver of his shield visible.
Image 4: Hyrule during battle. He is running at something out of frame and yelling. There are scratches and dirt smudges on his face. He is holding his sword with both hands and it is on fire.
Image 5: Hyrule shoulders and head are centered. The lines in the art imply he quickly turned his head. His text box says "?" and he looks confused.
Image 6: Hyrule is grinning mischievously. His shoulders are facing away but his head is turned towards the viewer. He is snapping his fingers, there is a "SNAP" written next to his fingers, and there is lightning coming from his fingers. He is holding his sword with his other hand and his shield is strapped to his back. End descriptions.
The Chosen Hero – Sky     |     Zelda: Sun
Game: Skyward Sword
Character Traits:
Started his journey in mid-teens, now early 20s
Best swordsman- don’t get on his bad side
Skyloftian Knight
Kind, joyful, bashful, emotionally mature
Loves cuddles, loves comforting the others and making them smile
Very low stamina, needs more resting time, loves sleep
Very very in love with his Zelda
Friends with the soul of the Master Sword (Fi) and view the Master Sword as a blessing
Important Game Facts and Items:
Chronologically the first hero
Grew up on a floating island called Skyloft
He and his Zelda are rebuilding the Surface, and their kingdom will one day become Hyrule
Never actually fought Ganon- fought Demise, who cursed the hero’s spirit to be tied to his own
Image descriptions:
Image 1: Sky during battle. Sky's back is to the viewer and he is looking over his shoulder. His text box says "?!" He is holding his sword with one hand and his shield with the other. His shield has a very ornate metal design. His sailcloth is flowing behind him like a cape. There is black debris in the background.
Image 2: Sky is smiling kindly. His textbox says "Well I think it's neat."
Image 3: Sky during battle. He is holding the Master Sword above his head in the position for the Skyward Strike from his game and the sword is glowing brightly. His brows are furrowed in anger. He is holding his shield in his other hand.
Image 4: Sky is smiling bashfully and blushing. He has his head resting on a hand and is looking towards the Sky. There are hearts surrounding his head.
Image 5: Image from Wild's Sheikah Slate. Sky is asleep against a tree and there are hands in the image stacking sticks on his head.
Image 6: Sky is smiling up at the sun. Sun says are shining down on him. His hair looks especially fluffy. End descriptions.
2K notes · View notes
poppurini · 1 year
Text
— new post ᵎ iuuru presents . . . “Secrets I have held in my heart are harder to hide than I thought.” ft. ace, leona, idia, lilia, sebek
gn reader
Tumblr media
˖ ace trappola
“Have you thought that maybe, just maybe, you have a crush on—” a flappy exercise book slapped across Epel’s face and the boy cursed. “What the hell?!”
Ace rubs his face then remains in that position with his head hung low. You? As in, you? Ain’t no way. You two have been friends for so long! Well, he does feel happier and more excited whenever he speaks to you…and texting you (especially late at night) about random, idiotic stuff puts a smile on his face…and that specific feeling in his chest— but that just means he likes you as a friend, right?
“Wrong.”
“For fuck’s sake—”
˖ leona kingscholar
It didn’t take long for him to realise this ridiculous feelings for you, but it sure did take a century for him to come to terms with it, to admit that he has fallen for you. Naturally, Leona have decided to bury this emotion deep inside—like how he does with everything—concealing it with feigned neutrality, boredom or even distaste if he’s desperate enough towards you.
Such a fleeting attraction would go away eventually, except that it’s not going quick enough for his liking. It’s been months and he’s still thinking about you whenever he’s alone with his thoughts. Still subconsciously look out for your scent or figure. Still stares a little longer than he should when you’re in his vicinity. Still sigh and groan heavily before slamming a pillow on his face because you’re always on his mind. What’s worse is the feelings felt good whenever he thinks of you, or when he meets your eyes.
˖ idia shroud
Came to this conclusion one fateful day in class, his hair instantly went pink the moment he realises! He was so embarrassed that he had to excuse himself in a panic and scurry out of the classroom, almost tripping over air.
Locks himself in his room even longer now—if possible—and hides in his sheets to think about how he’s going to deal with…this. At some point he’d groan and grip on his hot pink hair because it is suuuch a hassle to have them change colour whenever he so much as think of you or simply just walking past your classroom. Confessing his feelings is definitely out of the question because who in their right mind would think you’re gonna accept someone like him?! That’s just wishful thinking. He’s introverted and awkward and a loner and could barely hold a conversation and you’re, well, nothing like him. Yeah, this’ll go away.
˖ lilia vanrouge
“Oh dear.” Leans his head against his palm before chuckling with a shake of head, Lilia concludes he does, in fact, have feelings for you. What to do? He’s a little troubled. You’re a mortal and he’s not, it’s already crystal clear that things between you two wouldn’t work as you will pass way before he would. There’s no point in pursuing.
But this feeling…how long has it been. Besides, Lilia isn’t one to fall easily. He feels like the right decision is to seal it away, continue to act as you’re nothing but a friend. However, he feels a heavy regret forming already. If you’re observant enough, you’ll notice a small change in his behaviour towards you. Just a little.
˖ sebek zigvolt
Outrageous! Absolutely preposterous! The boy desperately asks for Lilia to please stop heaving and slapping the table so much that the tea set almost falls. With all due respect, Lilia must be mistaken!
Is genuinely confused about his feelings. There is no way he fell for a human. A human! Do you hear him? A human! It has become such a disturbance that he finds himself distracted during duty— either plagued by the thought of his feelings for you or the thought of you. He loathes it— hey, doesn’t this make him a hypocrite? Sebek is definitely the kind to let out his frustrations by working out and…be…loud about it. A sudden “No!” and aggressive shake of head in a perfectly quiet and serene atmosphere. Poor roommates.
Tumblr media
≡ homepage
1K notes · View notes
nightchai05 · 1 year
Photo
Tumblr media
Genshin men flirting/pining over you headcanons ___________________________________________________________ characters: Kaeya, Diluc, Zhongli, Xiao, Thoma, Ayato ___________________________________________________________ Kaeya
Gets close to you and whispers compliments in your ear
Uses his vision to craft beautiful crystals and gifts them to you
Watches you from afar, his face soft
Keeps track of your whereabouts to ‘accidentally’ bump into you
Kisses your hand upon greeting you
Shows off his swordsmanship, for you to pay attention to him
Shamelessly compliments your outfit in front of all the knights
Diluc
Offers you free drinks in Angel’s Share
Creates a special alcohol-free cocktail that suits your tastes and names it after you
Lingering touches on your shoulder or waist when he passes by
Discretely inhales your perfume when you’re close and blushes when you notice it
Lights up candles with his vision to set the mood
Smiles only at you, and you know it
Invites you to his mansion and shows his late’s father favourite paintings, while opening up slowly
Zhongli
Never breaks eye contact when he listens to you talk
His compliments are mix of metaphors and allegories
Often offers you to taste his tea, as to make you indirectly kiss him
When walking at Liyue Harbor he gently holds your arm, showing you different spots he likes
Fixes your clothes from time to time, his fingers lingering a little longer than usual on the hem of your dress/ exposed shoulder
Gets really close to your face and in a raspy voice, tells you to look at the beautiful setting sun, while looking at you
Xiao
Super protective during fights, always standing in front, keeping enemy blows from touching you
Smiles for you
Holds your hand as a small gesture to make sure you’re okay
Talks about his past, hoping you would see you’re different from others in his eyes
Acting a bit jealous whenever you go meet your male friends
Tries cooking food for you, and actually manages to make a cute cat face with rice and dried seaweed
Thoma
Brings you to spots with lots of cats on his free time, like that temple with Neko
Shares his food with you, sometimes even feeds you with his chopsticks
Always a huge smile on his face as he sees you approach
Hugs you for no particular reason
Does your hair, his touch is so gentle, at times, you don’t feel anything touching your hair
Puts freshly picked flowers from the estate’s garden every morning in your guest room
Invites you to the teahouse and doesn’t stop looking at you
Ayato
Spoils you hard, every time you go out for a walk he buys you milk tea or street food
Puts his work on hold every time you pop in the estate to show he’s interested in you
Puts his hand on your shoulder every time you are together in a social gathering, keeping you close
Murmurs fun facts about guests in your ear
When talking to his sister, he always mentions how good you looked/behaved today, making sure you hear his praise
Drowns you in expensive gifts, may it be a special kimono or a unique vase for your Serenitia Pot
2K notes · View notes
kkami-writes · 14 hours
Text
waiting for us — chapter fifty one. the wedding cw. smut!, semi-public sex (bathroom), piv, protected sex (shout out to condoms) wc. 1,965 + 4 ss a/n: THIS IS UNEDITED. I FINALLY FUCKING FINISHED THIS MY GOD. I'm so sorry this took forever...that's my bad <3 hopefully the motivation keeps rolling and i'll finally finish this fic.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
The ceremony had been perfect, something right out of the pages of a fairy tale. The venue had been small since they had kept it to close family and friends but it still had been breathtaking. Minghao had made you his best “man” and there was no place you’d rather be than next to your best friend on the most important day of his life. (and if you cried while they were reciting their vows, you’d never tell. Though Minghao had taken plenty of pictures of you ugly crying to store in his blackmail folder.)
It was probably inappropriate to daydream during a wedding, but Jeongin couldn’t help himself. You were standing up there, looking absolutely breathtaking, it was hardly his fault that his mind had wondered what you would look like, dressed in all white at their own wedding.
If he was honest, he never expected to get married. Well, he supposed that’s wrong. While he does in fact plan on getting married eventually to all his soulmates, before you had come into the picture that had agreed that a ceremony between eight people would be a little hectic. He didn’t need some grand ceremony to show his love but for now, he could dream of seeing you in a wedding dress for now.
The reception is just as gorgeous as the actual wedding, with lavish decorations and a crystal chandelier.
Currently you were being dragged from table to table, both Minghao and Jun introducing you to people like you were their child. (though Minghao would argue that him and Jun were indeed your dads).
From across the room you can feel a pair of eyes on you, practically burning a hole into your flesh from his heated gaze. Jeongin was sat at your assigned table, a drink forgotten in front of him while he stared you down. His gaze is enough to set you aflame, cheeks reddened from how intense his eyes felt against you, not so subtly running along your body. The boy was practically eye fucking you from across the room, not a shameful bone in his body. It was quite distracting as you tried to introduce yourself to Jun’s grandmother.
The two of you make eye contact and it’s impossible to look away, his deep chocolate eyes captivating you. Jeongin’s tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip, your eyes following the movement and the cheeky fucker smirks, knowing he’s caught you in his web. With a subtle nod towards the bathrooms, he gets up, suddenly paying you no mind before striding in the direction he directed you to. It leaves you a little mystified, blinking and frozen in place. You clear your throat, turning to Jun with a small smile.
“Excuse me Junnie,” You mumble before escaping the male’s grasp, but he lets you go easily enough, too caught up in a different conversation.
As you make your way towards the bathrooms there’s a sense of heat that starts to fill your lower belly, a wave on anticipation for whatever Jeongin has up his sleeve. It fills you with excitement, hands practically shaking as you open the door.
The bathrooms are one of those fancy single ones, lights dim and fancy expensive soap. You don’t have time to admire the decore as Jeongin pins you back against the door, the tell tale click of the door being locked. He doesn’t hesitate to press his lips to yours, practically devouring you. It’s all teeth and tongue, groaning into your mouth desperately. The sound goes straight to your pussy.
Jeongin presses against you, already hard in his slacks, hips rutting up against you.
“Fuck. Do you even know how good you look?” His voice is raspy and deep, sounding already so gone. You can’t help but giggle, rather enjoying the effect you have on the boy.
“Mm, I have no idea,” You singsong. “Maybe you should tell me,” Your words illicit another groan from the boy before he’s picking you up and carrying you over to the counter and setting you down there. Perhaps the way he had lifted you up like it was nothing turned you on further, it would seem your baby bread has been accompaning his hyungs to the gym more often.
Jeongin runs his hands up until they’re splayed across your thighs, easy access thanks to the slit in your dress. His lips are on yours again, this time much softer, taking his time to savor your taste. Meanwhile his hands grope and squish at the soft flesh of your thighs, fingers running up until they hook under the waistband of your panties, pulling them down to your ankles.
You let out a gasp as his long fingers make contact with your wet core and Jeongin takes the opportunity to slide his tongue into your awaiting mouth. You’re completely at his mercy, deft fingers circling your clit and his tongue stealing your breath away.
“So wet,” His voice is deep, slightly gruff as he nips at your now swollen tiers. “Eager are we?” The cocky tone makes you want to roll your eyes at him, but they’re rolling to the back of your head anyway as he easily slides a digit into your core, a whine falling from your lips. “Look so good like this for me,”
You can vaguely hear the sound of the music that’s blasting in the venue, the walls of the bathroom muting it but even then, the sound of your slick echoes lewdly in your ear and it heats your body up.
Jeongin is so content like this, watching you fall apart on the counter, soft moans filtering from your lips as he’s lazily thrusts his fingers into you. As much as he would love to take his time with you, his cock is starting to ache, still trapped in the confines of his slacks.
“Can I fuck you baby?” He asks against your ear, pressing soft kisses to your earlobe and trailing them down your neck. You nod your head, probably a little too eagerly but there’s pretty much nothing on your mind besides Jeongin’s cock splitting you in half. But then you remember something important and it makes you whine.
“Innie…you don’t have a condom do you?”
The question makes him freeze and if he wasn’t literally two fingers deep in your cunt you would have laughed at his bewildered facial expression. But then suddenly he’s pulling out of you, a whimper leaving your lips at the loss of his fingers filling you up. Jeongin is frantically patting at his slacks, as if searching for something, leaving you slightly baffled at the sight. Finally he pulls his wallet out and from it, produces a singular condom.
“Seungminnie hyung said I should keep one in my wallet just in case…never really thought anything about it. I’m gonna kiss that man later,” His words make you snort, shaking your head at how silly he is. But if you were honest, you’d probably kiss Seungmin later for the same reason.
The two of you don’t waste anymore time, remembering you are in a public space, at your best friends wedding for goodness sake. In your defense, your brain is no longer working, especially when Jeongin is bending you over the (very nice) counter, moving the skirt of your dress aside and slipping your panties down your legs.
You arch your back just slightly, legs spreading to give the boy a peak at your glistening folds and Jeongin swears he could probably cum in his pants. He’s quick to slide the condom over his almost painful erection, coming close to press his chest to your back, trailing kisses along your shoulder. He ruts his cock against your soaked core before positioning in front of your entrance. With how aroused you are, it’s an easily glide in, just a slight stretch that feels all too good.
Jeongin lets out a borderline pornographic moan when he bottoms out, your wet warm heat squeezing his cock feels heavenly and he already knows he’s not gonna last very long. He shudders against your body as he holds you tightly, large hands splayed across your torso.
“Fuck- You feel so fucking good,” He groans, needing just a second to calm himself down before he blows his load already. You can barely register his words, not faring any better. The sensation of being so full, of having your soulmates cock buried inside your heat is a feeling you don’t think you’ll ever get used to.
The two of you simply relish in the moment for a second and while maybe Jeongin might have jumped the gun on your first time together, he promises that the next time he’ll take his time to savor you. For now he just wants to feel you coming apart on his cock.
He moves his hips rather expertly, rocking into you with strong thrusts and you feel yourself further melting into the cool counter, the drag of Jeongin’s cock against your gummy walls feels too fucking good. Any and all thoughts are leaving your head, the only thing you care about is the heady pleasure that builds steadily in the pit of your stomach.
Jeongin is pressed flush against your back, sucking marks into your skin and whispering sweet dirty words into your ear and you feel yourself getting closer and closer to your peak.
“Such a good girl, hm? Taking my cock so well. You feel so good baby…I’m not gonna last long,” He nips at the back of your ear and you nod your head in agreement.
“Innie! I-Innie…” You’re mumbling his name over and over like a chant, your walls clenching around his length sporatically. “I’m so close…gonna, gonna cum,” You gasp out, the rubber band threatening to snap each time the tip of his cock hits that spot deep inside of you. He brings a finger to your clit, rubbing the swollen button in circles.
“Go ahead baby, cum all over my cock,” He says with a grunt, thrusts somehow getting even harsher and the sound of skin slapping reverberates against the walls.
It doesn’t take much longer before you’re gushing around his cock, coming with a whimper. Jeongin does his best to fuck you through your orgasm but with the way your walls clench around him has him spilling into the condom not too far after you. Both of you need a moment to catch your breath, slowly coming down from the euphoria of such an act. Jeongin seems to collect himself before you, not even noticing him pulling out. You only finally come out of your haze when you feel something damp against your skin.
Jeongin is cleaning you up, even if he didn’t cum inside, you can still feel your own release against your thighs. Slowly, he also helps you pull your panties back up before picking you up to settle you on the counter. He fusses over you, smoothing your hair down and fixing your dress and your heart flutters in your chest at how attentive the younger boy is after having just dicked you down. You giggle before wrapping your arms around him, pulling him into a sweet kiss, one that he happily melts into.
When you two pull away, he’s giving you that bright fox-like smile, dimples practically blinding you as he helps you off the counter.
“C’mon baby. Let’s go dance and hope that your friends didn’t notice your disappearance,” You snort.
“Even if they didn’t, I think the hickies speak for themselves,” Jeongin has the gall to blush, his tongue running along his teeth.
“Sorry, not sorry,”
“You are such a brat,”
“Guilty!”
You roll your eyes, spanking him before moving towards the door.
“Let’s go dance baby bread,”
Tumblr media
79 notes · View notes
gay-dorito-dust · 10 months
Note
This just popped into my head. please can i request headcandons of miles, Hobie, Pavitr (separately) and the reader wearing matching shirts like cute couples
Tumblr media
Miles would probably either have those goofy couple shirts that you guys got as a joke but you now wear unironically. Ie: don’t go bacon my heart/ I couldn’t if I fried. (This is purely cuz I love shitty puns)
Or couple shirts where they have a matching small heart embroidered somewhere on the pocket of the shirt/hoodie.
Nothing overly drastic about your relationship, just small, minuscule things that you could incorporate in your every day wears. Kinda like this:
Tumblr media
Miles is just an awkward dude who’s trying his best to show you how much he love you, and it definitely shows which never fails in making you smile because he does it so effortlessly that pretty sure he doesn’t know it.
Would he get playfully teased by his mates? Yeah, probably but does he care? Not fucking really because he loved the fact that you were matching in subtle ways. It’s just the way you like them because not everyone needs to know but they do due to how painfully obvious Miles was being.
so much so that it doesn’t take much for anyone to assume that you were together, with or without the matching shirts. They only add to what was already crystal clear to everyone.
Your love with Miles is goofy, clumsy as a newborn deer, subtle, sweet, caring, warm, protective and above all; loyal.
Tumblr media
Pavitr is a grade a sucker for matching couple shirts that he probably buys them in bulk, so you’d have new ones to wear throughout the entire week.
One day it’ll be the cheesy ‘my head belongs to him/ my heart belongs to her/him/ them’ couple shirts and then the next day it’ll be the ‘I love’ shirts that he defiantly got personalised to add your names in conjunction to the phrase.
He’s also the type of couple shirts where you have to be stood together for the wording on it to make coherent sense to anyone wanting to read it.
Pavitr also has the couple shirts where they point to one another and say shit like ‘born to love her/him/them’ on it because he always tells you on a daily basis that the moment he met you, he felt as though he was born to love you.
He’s just got so much love for you and wants to show it in any way possible, not caring if it earns you the title of sappiest couple or most loved up couple because in all fairness, what they say was a hundred percent true. Pavitr is a sappy and loved up boy but that was because of you and he hoped that you felt the same towards him.
You do, stop denying it.
Pavitr is unashamed in wearing matching shirts with you. He takes great pride in it and I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s got a fuck ton of pictures of you two doing cute couple shit in your matching couple T-shirts. One might’ve been made into his home/Lock Screen by the end of the day, but is subjective to change because he loved all of them equally and can’t choose between them.
Tumblr media
Hobie isn’t the fondest of couple shirts, he probably finds them ridiculous and cringe inducing but if he were to wear to one, he’d probably only wear it as a pyjama set where less eyes can see.
This ain’t in due to any insecurity he might have because Hobie was the definition of what confident in your own skin looked like, he just doesn’t understand why you needed shirts to proclaim your love when he does that already by draping all his limbs over you, publicly kissing you, touching you and the like.
So he’d like to think he’s making it pretty loud and clear that you two were something to one another that transcends the need for labels but again he ain’t against verbally calling you his.
Even then the shirts you’d have would either be a little on the vulgar side because Hobie thought it funny or shirts that are like ‘I don’t do matching shirts’/ ‘but I do.’ Kind of thing.
An example of the aforementioned couple shirt:
Tumblr media
However that don’t mean Hobie doesn’t like being called yours -constancy be damed- he’d just prefer it if it wasn’t so blatantly and unabashedly spread out across a marketable t-shirt that anyone can get and that provides no sentimental meaning for either of you.
Now let’s say you’re a wizard on a sewing machine and all things textiles and had made you both a matching couples t-shirt then that’s a completely different case entirely.
For those shirts held sentimental value because you were the one to go out of your way and make them for the both of you and who’s Hobie to reject the change of wearing something you made with your bare hands?
He’d wear it for you and he’d wear the shit out of it because he’s proud of everything you do and would be damned if he let you think otherwise.
A/n: now me, personally. I can not stand matching couple shirts…it rubs me the wrong way. Sure some are cute but you’d never catch me in one. Ever. I respect myself too much. Also I was probably projecting myself onto Hobie just a little.
241 notes · View notes
sunshine-zenith · 8 months
Text
Actually yeah I’m jumping back on my bullshit and doing another ramble about small details in Nimona
Specifically the fact that, in the movie, little Ballister already has his eye scar
Tumblr media
In the comic, he gets the scar at the same time he loses the arm, but how he loses it in the book and the movie are different — in the comic he’s basically hit by a tiny missile, so it makes sense he would take a lot more damage overall, while in the movie it’s lost in a sword chop, so unless Ambrosius’s impulsive “disarming” also involves additional face stabbing, it wouldn’t make sense in the movie canon for him to give Bal the face scar here. But Ballister bleeds a bit from the head after the Gloradome collapses, and while him walking away with just one face scar instead of several might seem like a stretch, they could’ve played it off. They already had to make a new character model for him with the prosthetic arm, they could’ve also added the face scar to the second model
Instead, they “backdated” the scar all the way to his childhood without giving a backstory for it, and it implies so much about how his life was before he joined the knights
Tumblr media
This concept art by Crystal Kung sure doesn’t show a happy and well cared for kid. We know he was homeless/impoverished (the visible patches on clothes, the “street kid/charity case” comments, zero signs of parents when his “commoner” bloodline is emphasized). He could’ve gotten the scar running from someone in the streets, or by getting into a fight since he was a pretty impulsive/bold (see what I did there) kid — jumping a fence and interrupting a knight training session. I can’t help but wonder though…
It’s implied that he’s an orphan, given the fact that all of zero parents are brought up when discussing his “commoner blood,” but it’s never outright stated. ND Stevenson stated that in the comic Ballister’s father gave up custody of his son to pay off his debts, and while the knights are no longer exploited orphans/the Queen doesn’t seem like the type of person to ask for that kind of transaction, it does make me wonder what movie Ballister’s parents were like
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Look at those blotches on his face. Sure, they might just be dirt, since it doesn’t look like they bothered to give this poor kid a bath before throwing a media circus in his honor, but compare them to how bruising shows up on his adult self’s face. And if they are bruises, it’s possible that a couple of them are from the whole Tackled By Like Three Fully Grown Adults In Armor thing, but If you look closely, it looks like he already has a blotch before he’s tackled
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Granted, his body language doesn’t really change when he sees the knights coming towards him (no flinches or attempts to cover his head, and while he doesn’t move it doesn’t look like he’s freezing) so him being abused might be a stretch, But think about how he holds Ambrosius back from confronting Todd, how he just quietly accepts the verbal harassment and rough treatment. He doesn’t think confronting Todd is worth it — Todd’s bullying was clearly never shut down or addressed over the years, and it’s likely that any attempts at retaliation from Ambrosius or Ballister got them in trouble instead. Bal is just… used to it
Listen. This vulnerable kid was hurt physically by something before he joined the knights. Maybe he had abusive parents, maybe he had an abusive foster family, maybe he was attacked by someone who caught him trying to steal food or something to survive, maybe he was attacked just for being homeless, maybe this wasn’t his first tango with knights. We have no clue. But he got that scar at a very young age and he got it from somewhere
286 notes · View notes
izvmimi · 1 year
Text
love is here - izuku x reader, all might x inko
cw: fluff, smut, domestic, valentine's day content. bkg with mentioned female partner. pregnancy mention. minors dni. summary: you and Izuku decide to celebrate another couple's love this Valentine's Day. a/n: a repost from last year's valentines' day fic because i still think it's cute. features 1 terrible joke.
“Red or white?”
While checking the chicken cutlets still browning in the oven, you reflexively call out in reply,
“Red. Has to be red.”
“Of course.”
Closing the oven door, you glance over at Izuku who is hunched over in the glass cabinet in the portion of the living room you can see from your vantage point, and hear the clinking of glass bottles as your husband rummages through your admittedly small stores of alcohol. He pulls out a classic Pinot, and you recognize it as the pretty expensive one Bakugou and his wife (well mostly his wife, really) offered you months ago when you’d first moved into this new home. 
“This one?” He asks.
You tilt your head slightly, pondering. “Does your mom even like red wine at all?”
“I’m actually not sure,” he thinks, frowning as he attempts to recall any time he might have caught her drinking.
You purse your lips. “I think we have a Riesling in there. It’s sweet, she might like it,” you ask, before turning back to the kitchen to set up the rest of the dinner items.
Taking a glance at your phone, you check to see if Toshinori has replied to your text message requesting his ETA. The last answer you have from him is a sticker of his own face giving you a thumbs up and it makes you stifle a laugh. It kills you every time he does it, truly Dad behavior. 
As Izuku rounds the corner of the kitchen island to place the bottles within a decorative ice bucket on the dining table, he presses a kiss to your forehead. You smile, but then you remember his earlier deceit and shake your head.
“I cannot believe you told Inko I was pregnant!” 
He rearranges the bottles as well as a large bouquet of red, pink and white roses with a devious grin on his face, then raises an eyebrow at you.
“Is it really that bad?” He asks, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “It’s just a little white lie.”
“Villain,” you mutter under your breath just as your timer goes off. He laughs out loud. 
The next few moments involve you laying down two fine placemats across from each other, your nicest china, far too much cutlery (based on a guide both of you read about fine dining), and sparkling crystal glasses. Herbed chicken parmesan, steaming buttery lobster, roasted brussels sprouts, garlicky mashed potatoes, and angel hair pasta lightly tossed with olive oil and stewed grape tomatoes are set on the table along a light salad. You remembered something about All Might liking Western food and wondered if this was what he was thinking of. 
Then you suddenly remembered something else.
“Oh noooo, he doesn’t drink!” you exclaim. Before you can scramble for non-alcoholic options, Izuku has placed a particularly decorative container of sparkling water on the table.
“Just ahead of you,” he says. Always ready to save the day.
Water seems a little lackluster for a romantic dinner, you consider grumbling, but the table looks so beautiful by now that you decide not to let the perfect be the enemy of the good. 
“Everything looks amazing!” You announce, clasping your hands together. Izuku agrees and starts the music while you lower the lights, a very light jazzy mix, and as though right on cue, you hear a knock on the door while Izuku begins to light the red and pink candles one by one.
It’s Inko.
She’s dressed far nicer than you usually see her, green locks fully down for once, and you can tell that she’s taken her time to actually perform the skincare routine you’d recommended for her. In fact, you consider that her skin looks a lot healthier than yours and it brings you joy. There’s even a tiny bit of blush she’s applied to her cheeks and a touch of lipstick. The greatest thing she wears however, aside from her coral pink sheath dress, is a wide smile.
“___, congratulations!”
Your mother-in-law envelops you into a hug and for a moment her genuine unbridled joy makes you feel bad that Deku had come up with such a bad lie. You mentally remind yourself to scold him later a second time as you hug her back.
“I- uh… Yeah!” There’s an awkward laugh you let out as she pulls back and holds you by your arms, small tears of joy forming in her eyes. Your stomach turns.
“He told me there would be pictures so I dressed up and-” she starts, but by this time Izuku senses your discomfort and swoops in between you to give his mother a warm hug, then leads her to her seat. 
Inko is asking so many questions - How many weeks? Have we thought of names? Are you doing okay? Are you nervous? - that she doesn’t realize her son has sat her down and unraveled a napkin to place on her lap. Nor has she noticed that there are only two placemats laid out, or that you have just gotten a text from Toshinori that says he’ll be there in five minutes.
Smiling as Izuku stands besides her and deflects all her questions, you wonder if all of this is ethical. You may be teasing Izuku for his lie, but you’ve also told All Might that you were surprising Izuku for his birthday and throwing a party.
“That’s five months early?!” He’d asked on the phone.
To which, you sang, “That’s why it’s the perfect surprise!”
You’d given him too short of a notice to ask too many questions, and it worked out perfectly well because you could hear a second knock on your door.
As Inko’s eyes flitted to the door, her frown made it clear that she was realizing something was fishy.
“Am I missing something here?” she started, but before she could press further, All Might all but burst through the door, in powered up form and in a finely pressed shirt and tie, with his signature catchphrase - 
“I AM HE-”
He stops abruptly, blinking back and forth as he searches the room significantly lacking in people, slightly dark with mood lighting, and his eyes finally settle on Inko.
And he realizes just before she does.
Inko gets to her feet quickly, immediately apologizing at the squeak of the legs of the chair scraping against the floor as she scoots back, but points at All Might.
“You are-”
“Here,” they say in unison.
All Might nearly chokes as he powers down in a poof and slightly entertained but holding in your amusement, you pat his back, leading him to the seat across from Inko, who is being settled right back into her chair by Izuku massaging her shoulders.
“You tricked me,” Toshinori mutters helplessly under his breath, and you nod sweetly.
“Of course I did, All Might,” you say, patting his shoulder. He gives you a sharp glare behind him, meant to intimidate but failing miserably, then turns back to stare down at his plate.
It doesn’t take a genius to realize what’s going on here. You can see the redness on Toshinori’s sallow cheeks and it actually stirs your heart a little. 
Izuku turns down the music from the speaker set on the bar for just a moment before clasping his hands together.
“Yes, so we lied!” He announces. “But!”
He pauses and points to the spread before them. “____ did a lovely job today with all the cooking, and we wanted to spend this Valentines’ Day focused less on us…”
With this, he takes hold of your hand and squeezes it and you can’t stop the warmth that builds in your own face. 
“… and on the two of you.”
Inko gives Izuku a look that is something like a pout but she stays seated. All Might on the other hand shifts almost uncomfortably in his chair for a moment, and for a split second you wonder, standing close to Izuku and whispering, did we go too far? in his ear, if All Might will end up leaving and making the whole ordeal genuinely uncomfortable.
But then, he clears his throat.
“M-Midoriya-san, you look lovely,” he says definitively and almost in unison, you and Izuku’s hearts skip a beat. You’re probably boring a hole in Inko’s forehead at this point as you wait for her reply, and just to make sure you don’t continue to stand there creepily you nudge Izuku to start pouring drinks.
“Thank you,” she says after a pause. Her voice is gentle. “You look quite handsome yourself.”
You almost knock over her glass of red wine in surprise and Izuku’s eyes widen in your direction, but he himself is dangerously close to overflowing Toshinori’s glass. 
You make a face and he catches himself. You both agree that it’s time to leave.
After describing the menu lightly, the two of you let them know that you’ll be returning in a couple hours and have reservations of your own. Inko mutters something teasing about being cheap to one’s parents but heavily compliments the food regardless. You notice her generously spooning pasta onto Toshinori’s plate and his distracted look as he focuses on her face.
This ship will sail, you think.
“The car’s waiting for us,” Izuku points out, grinning, as you run over with a last glance at Izuku’s parental figures. He helps you put on your coat, and you hug him tightly as the door closes behind you.
By the time the two of you return, it’s fairly late. You’d been polite enough to send a message to Inko and ask her if she needed more time, and she had asked for 45 more minutes, to which Izuku responded with sheer delight.
“She’s been lonely for a while to be honest,” Izuku mentions as you make it up the elevator. “I wish I had realized it earlier.”
It must have been different for Izuku who had met Toshinori young, when the wistful look had not been present in Inko’s eyes, but you’d sensed it the first time you saw Inko and All Might interact. A little something, that was subtle and polite and respected boundaries, but ever-present and shared. Was it their shared hope for Izuku’s growth? Was it something more than that? You would never truly know what it was that engendered that affection but it didn’t really matter.
What did matter was that when you finally returned, All Might’s hand held Inko’s gently across the table. He did retreat rapidly once he saw the two of you and you only pretend to bounce your eyes for privacy.
“Did you enjoy the food?” Izuku asks cheerfully, as he clears the dishes and the leftovers for them. The Riesling is nearly gone, you notice, and you wonder if All Might had ended up helping finish off the bottle.
“Absolutely!” They say in unison, then look at each other again, and you can see that gentle fire between them that rivals the still burning candles surrounding them.
“Good,” you reply. Very good.
You sit down at the table with them and share in gentle commentary and a little bit of banter before the two are ready to make their exit and relish in the genuine smile on Inko’s face.
She’s cute when she crushes, you think. It’s another side of the lovely woman who made the one you love, and you can’t wait to tease her about it later, if only to get back at her for the fact that before the “real” adults leave, they admonish you for lying.
“Pregnancy?! How could you lie about something so serious, Young Midoriya?!” 
All Might is genuinely in shock as he stands in the doorway and for once Izuku actually is a bit embarrassed because his mentor’s face is so intensely disappointed that there’s not much he can say in response. He scratches at the back of his neck.
“See, the kids were polite enough to give you a lie that was far less grave… however, how could you seriously believe in a 5 month early surprise party?” Inko asks, slapping All Might with her handbag. He makes an exaggerated pained sound, as though she knocked the wind out of him and she laughs, linking arms with him before they leave.
“Thank you again for dinner,” they say and the two of you beam.
“Our pleasure,” you say in unison then laugh.
It takes the changing of clothes into bare skin and soft lingerie, gentle necking between satin sheets and far too many rose petals to completely distract the two of you from the events of earlier today. You are comfortably nestled in Izuku’s arms, legs tangled with his and face pressed into his bare chest until he stirs suddenly.
“Oh my God.”
Izuku shoots up straight like a board and you can practically feel the sudden sharp panic run through his entire body. He’s muttering something unintelligible under his breath and you give him a look of confusion until he finally speaks.
“What if he Plus Ultras my mom?”
“… What?” You repeat, incredulously.
He clutches his head dramatically.
“H-he’s going to have sex…with my…” his mouth falters.
You gasp when you finally realize what he means, then pause for a moment before bursting into genuine rip-roaring laughter. Izuku stares at you in continued distress as you end up in tears, covering your face with a pillow, peeking up at him, then laughing even harder at the pallor in his features.
“You have to be kidding me?! This just occurred to you now???” You crumble into another fit, kicking your legs this time into the  mattress while Izuku is frozen as still as a statue.
He might as well be shell-shocked.
A few moments pass as you try to recollect yourself, and maybe acceptance has finally set in because he mutters under his breath something about this whole ordeal possibly being a mistake, but nevertheless pulls you to face him, cupping your face in his large hands.
“Just don’t think too hard about it,” you whisper, pushing your hand through his locks, gently rubbing the back of his head.
He sighs into your touch.
“If I do, I’ll probably lose my boner,” he says, pursing his lips to the side. You laugh again and he eventually melts into a smile, and kisses you on the nose.
As he pulls back, his demeanor changes into something more smug, a tease. It’s the type of look he has when he’s about to be lewd and it’s a sudden shift but you welcome it.
“What?”
His eyes lower to your lips again, and he bites your lower one, then pulls back slowly.
“You know how I got in trouble for saying you were pregnant?”
“For lying,” you corrected him, with a raised eyebrow. He dips down and bites your upper lip, slower and more sensual this time. The sting of the bite has you wanting for a little more than just kisses, and he’s well aware of it.
He trails a finger up the curve of your thigh then rests his hand on your hip. Rubbing gently, he whispers, tone low and rich.
“What if we made it true tonight?”
Your throat dries and you swallow hard. He takes it as a yes and hooks a finger around the crotch of your panties, then another finger rubs up and down your slit. He stops right at the entrance to your pussy and presses inward. You wince. 
A thumb finds your clit and his lips find yours again. There’s a deeper kiss this time, and he pulls back once again.
“What do you think?” He asks, and the fact that he is starting to take more strained breaths is not lost on you. 
“Are you sure you can guarantee that in one night?” He’s far too confident, and you do like to shake it teasingly, once in a while.
“It’s not like I didn’t do the math,” he says. “You should be right around ovulation based on the last time I did a tampon and ice cream run for you,” he insists.
His fingers are still working and you gasp as he adds another.
“Izuku…,” you moan.
“I just need to cum inside you,” he insists, and with that he shifts so that he’s on top of you, hissing into your ear as your back arches and his hands pump.
“Once, twice… maybe ten times,” he says, with extra emphasis on the word ‘ten’, his fingers freeing themselves from the hold of your walls. You already miss the sensation of him inside you, and you grip his shoulders tightly.
“How’s that sound?” He asks, watching the lowering of your eyelids and the parting of your lips,  your green lights.
You tense as he dips down to take a breast in his mouth, then relax, wrapping your arms around the expanse of his muscled back.
You don’t mind giving birth to a Scorpio.
“Let’s make an honest man out of you,” you murmur into his neck, bracing yourself for his first glide in.
506 notes · View notes