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mrsmikaelsxn · 11 months

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A Malfoy And A Potter

masterlist

pairing: draco malfoy x female potter reader

warnings: fluff, kissing

summary: you and draco have been dating in secret but the secret comes out when you two attend the yule ball together

a/n: i am so sorry i have not posted in forever, i've just been busy with school and work, and trying to catch up on my reading goal for the year! it's almost summer break so i should be posting more again :)

song: sleigh ride - the ronettes

You were currently pushed up against the wall by your boyfriend, Draco Malfoy.

His lips roam the smooth skin of your jaw and throat. Peppering you with loving kisses while you play with his hair.

Both of you are breathing heavy and he brings his lips back up to your mouth as he kisses you. You let out a satisfied hum and put your hands on his chest.

You gently push him back a bit and he looks at you. "What's wrong, love?"

"Someone is going to see us," you whisper.

"Hm, well that sucks for them," he grins and kisses you again.

You push him and laugh, "I guess you're right," you smile.

"They're going to see us when we go to the ball tomorrow night, you do know that, don't you?"

"Well of course, I know that!"

Draco pulls you into his chest and rests his head on yours, "If Potter has a problem with you and me tomorrow, I'll be more than happy to practice some hexes on him," he glides his hand along your waist.

"There will be no practicing hexes, Draco," you pick up his hand and kiss it before walking out of his embrace.

"Boring!"

"Oh, don't be such a baby," you squeeze his cheeks. "Anyway, I'll be off to dinner now, you should come too," you start walking to the great hall and he follows you like a lost puppy.

You go in and sit with Harry, Hermione, and Ron. "Hello," you smile at them.

"Hi, Y/n," Hermione smiles.

"Hey, mate," Ron says.

"Greetings," Harry salutes you. You grin and salute him back.

"So, do you all have your dates?" You ask them. You already knew about Hermione's date, of course, you two are like sisters.

"Er- not exactly," Harry replies scratching the back of his neck.

"Same here," Ron sighs and drops his head onto the table. You cover your mouth to stop your laugh when he groans in pain.

"Welp, you two got under a day left," you clasp your hands.

"What about you?" Ron asks, "I've been wondering if you finally picked someone out of the two hundred people who asked you," he says with amusement.

"Oh don't be silly, Ron, it was not two hundred people!"

"Sorry- two hundred and seven," he corrects.

You roll your eyes, but it was true. You four have literally been tallying how many people have asked you, boys and girls. "Well, yes, I have a date."

"Really? Who?" Hermione asks.

"I suppose you'll have to see tomorrow," you exclaim with a smile.

You were in your room getting ready for the ball, slightly panicking. Hermione was already dressed and now helping you. "Y/n, you don't need to be nervous," she says as she helps with your hair.

"I know but-"

"No buts. You are perfect and you dance amazingly! Your date is very lucky," she smiles.

You relax a bit and look at her through the mirror, "Hermione, have I mentioned how much I love you?"

"Yes, yes you have," she takes her wand to finish your hair. You already did your makeup with some of her assistance. She claps her hands in excitement, "I believe it's time for the dress!"

You pick up the beautiful dark green gown. You had bought Draco a matching tie when you picked the dress out.

You put the dress on and flatten out some wrinkles.

"You look stunning!" Hermione squeals.

"You mean that?"

"Of course! Now, let's head to the ball!" Hermione links her arm with yours. You two make your way to the entrance when you start to panic again. For someone as well known and popular as you, you get social anxiety often.

"You go in first, I'm scared," you bite your lip nervously.

She sighs but nods. She gives you a quick smile with a thumbs up before she heads down the stairs and goes to her date, Viktor Krum. You peak through the curtain to watch. Ron's jaw drops when he looks at her and her date. He looks angry and you could almost laugh.

After pacing for two minutes you decided to just go down. You pull the curtain and try to sneak in without being noticed. Unfortunately, things don't always go the way you want.

There were an absurd amount of gasps as you made your way down the stairs, praying to Merlin that you didn't trip in your heels. The gaping gazes of the people there making you even more nervous.

You see Draco talking with his best friend, Blaise Zabini. Draco listens to his friend talk as he waits for you to arrive. He notices his friends eyes widened as his mouth opens a bit.

He furrows his brows and looks to see everyone staring at something. He looks and his eyes land on you. He feels all the air sucked out of him. He admires you and then snaps out of his trance and makes his way over you, who was smiling at him.

He holds out his hand and you place yours in his. He leans down to your ear and whispers, "I hope you know how ethereal you look, sweetheart," he pulls back and you blush. Another round of gasps fill the room and you hear a, "WHAT?!" You look over and see Harry rushing over to you two, "I- what in Merlin's name are you doing with Malfoy?!"

"Um, he's my date," you say.

Harry's jaw drops as his head goes back between the two of you. You laugh and shake your head.

Draco pulls on your hand, "I would appreciate a dance with my girlfriend while you continue gaping," he places his hand on your lower back and walks you to where people started to dance.

"GIRLFRIEND??!!"

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augustinewrites · 1 month

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based on this

your frowning face appears in the mirror as wriothesley fixes his hair for the third time that afternoon, admiring how the gel he’d borrowed from clorinde was surprisingly adept at slicking back his unruly hair.

“we can’t be late,” you remind him, fiddling with the collar of your dress. “father despises tardiness…”

“awe, are you worried i’ll make a bad first impression?” he asks, finally turning to face you. “don’t worry, sweetheart. parents love me. well, maybe not my foster parents. but i’m always a hit with other people’s.”

the comment about his…colourful past goes right over your head. you really are worried. “it’s not you i’m worried about. father can be…intense.”

“i work in a prison. it can’t get more intense than that,” he reminds you, grabbing the gift bag sitting by the door. “besides, once we pull out this bad boy, he’ll be so impressed that he’ll ask me to join you for lunch next week too.”

of course, he had no actual idea if the wine navia had chosen was any good. though his wallet had come back significantly lighter, so that had to mean it was halfway decent.

“wriothesley,” you say, still looking deeply concerned. “you do know that father is–”

“intense, babe. i know,” he sighs, cupping your face in his hands and placing a kiss between your furrowed brows. you try to wriggle out of his hold, but he doesn’t let you, gently keeping your focus on him. “don’t worry, alright? i’ll shake his hand, we’ll talk about safe topics like the weather and how great the aquabus is. i’ll even use my best table manners when the food comes.”

his thumbs gently brush your cheeks as you sigh, shaking your head slightly. “i just really want you two to get along.”

“i can be plenty charming when i need to be,” he says, only letting you go to pull the front door open. “besides, who wouldn’t want a duke as a son-in-law?”

______

business at café lutece is unusually empty today, wriothesley observes. all of the tables are reserved, but remain empty at the height of the lunch rush.

you don’t seem to notice this, fingertips drumming the surface of the table

“quit fidgeting,” wriothesley murmurs, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“i’m just nervous,” you mutter, knee beginning to bounce. wriothesley chuckles, stilling it with a firm hand.

you look up at him, smiling as you place your hand over his. “thanks.”

the waiter comes back with the tea he’d ordered earlier, leaving a teapot and two small jars of sugar and milk. he’s in the middle of pouring you a cup when you suddenly sit up.

“father!”

“oh shit,” the duke mutters, quickly getting on his feet. he glances down at his outfit briefly, making sure his buttons are done up properly and his sleeves are rolled neatly before holding out his hand. “it’s nice to finally meet you–”

wriothesley’s open stance shifts into a protective one, immediately putting himself between you and the knave.

“well, isn’t this sweet,” the harbinger says, clearly more amused than threatened.

wriothesley looks back at you, incredulous. “your father is a fatui harbinger?!”

“all children of the house of the hearth refer to me as such,” she answers, gracefully pulling out and taking a seat across from him. “sit, your grace, and prove to me why you should continue to be allowed to court my child.”

_____

sitting face to face with the knave was equal parts exhilarating and nerve-inducing. exhilarating because she was the knave. skilled in combat and espionage and one of the highest ranking harbingers.

nerve-inducing because she was your father. and as much as he wanted to engage her in a battle of wits and fisticuffs, that was not something one did with their father-in-law.

“i trust business at the fortress is going smoothly, your grace?”

wriothesley casts the harbinger a wary look over his teacup. “you can read about childe’s status in the report i had sent over last week.”

“well, you know better than most that information from inside sources is much more valuable.”

both their gazes drift to you, and you send him an apologetic look.

“oh, relax,” the woman across from him laughs. “i was simply making conversation. since i’m short of time, however, i will make the point of our visit quite brief.”

she leans forward, clasping your hand in hers across the tabletop as she fixes wriothesley with a paragliding glare.

“if you ever hurt my child, or she comes to any harm whilst in your care, there is not a corner of the ocean dark enough for you to hide.”

“father!” you gasp. “you said you wouldn't threaten him.”

it’s almost eerie, how easily the dark expression slips off her visage. “that wasn’t a threat. c'était une promesse.”

#wriothesley x reader #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #wriothesley fluff #genshin x you #fem!reader

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spookysteddie · 4 months

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The Very First Date

Modern!Steve Harrington x college!fem!reader

Part two to "lemon drop martini" ... Read part one here

18+ MINORS DNI

desc: you finally call Steve for that first date. And it goes better than you imagined

cw: alcohol mention (reader is not in the slightest drunk), slight Dom!Steve, cocky!Steve begging, pet names (baby, sweetheart, angel), unprotected sex, p in v, creampie. (let mw know if I missed anything)

wc: 2.8k

a/n: I hope y'all enjoy this! based off of this ask who asked me for a part two a while ago (I am so sorry). My writers block has lifted after like a year and here we are! So expect more fics soon!

...

Three days.

You’d waited three days before calling the number on the napkin.

Well that’s a lie. You actually called the number the next day (after eating a greasy meal, drinking a shit ton of water, and downing some aspirin… nothing like a hangover) from your roommate Alixs phone. But the second he answered, you hung up very fast.

Alix, of course, called you a little baby back bitch and told you that you needed to call him. That it’d be nice to have some perks around your little college town.

You rolled your eyes at the sentiment.

To say you were nervous talking on the phone with him would be an understatement, in fact you were shitting myself. Scared he’d be able to hear it in your voice how nervous you were. Or, worse, that he wouldn’t remember you.

Four days ago:

“This is Steve Harrington speaking. How can I help you?”

You took a deep breath, putting a smile on your face in the hopes it’ll translate through the telephone.

“Hi, Steve. I-it’s y/n. From the bar the other night.” You cringe at the slight stutter and the wave in your voice. “You gave me your number on the napkin.”

You can practically hear the smile in his voice, coolness seeping from his voice, “lemon drop martini girl. Of course I remember you, sweetheart.”

You quietly sigh in relief that he remembers.

“Oh good! I’m sorry for not calling sooner. I was a little hung over and then I had to study and take exams. Finals season.” You laugh awkwardly, cursing yourself for rambling and making a fool out of yourself. Alix would be rolling her eyes.

Steve laughs on the other end of the line, “ah yes. I hated finals. Very frustrating. Hence why I dropped out, much to my fathers dislike.”

One thing about you is that you love oversharing. But you love when other people overshare even more. There’s nothing like bonding over a trauma dump.

You giggle into the phone which makes Steve giggle too, the sound mimicking a sweet song. All you want to make him do it again.

“Anyway, sweetheart, I was wondering if you had plans for Friday night?” His tone is cool and relaxed. You could only wish to sound like that.

Your heart pounds in your chest, words failing you for a moment. “Oh! Um, nothing actually.”

“Perfect. Hows ‘bout you and I go on a little date? I know a great place. Kinda fancy. What do you say?”

You could kick your feet like a little girl at the prospect of going out with him. You, also, are tempted to make him wait. To give him just a little bit of a hard time. It was what you'd usually do to the men you like. But there was something in the back of your mind begging you not to.

“I-I would like that, Steve.”

“Great! I’ll pick you up at 7. Give you time to study and get ready. Take a nap even.”

…

“I can’t do this. I can’t go. I mean, fuck, I have nothing to wear.”

Nothing to wear was an understatement. You could hardly see the floor of your bedroom, clothes littering it with only a small path for where you keep walking from the mirror to your closet.

Alix sits on your bed, drinking some wine and eating some popcorn. “I liked the black leather. I don’t know why you won’t just wear that one. You look hot in it.”

You slide your hands down the front of the blue, sequence dress you have on. “I just feel like that’s not enough. And isn’t it a little … short for a dress for a nice restaurant?”

Alix shrugs, “I mean, probably but who cares. You look hot.” She sips her wine and says again, “well you look hot in everything.”

You look over at her, “while that’s sweet, he’s going to be here in fifteen minutes and I need a few shots to calm my nerves so help me pick a dress, please.”

She rolls her eyes at my dramatics, downing her wine. “I think you should wear the short black one you wore two weeks ago. Not the leather one, the velvet one. Makes your ass look great. Oh with your Louboutins! You spent a lot of money on them and have worn them once. It’s a sin.”

One thing is for sure, you did spend a lot of money on them, charging them to your dads credit card.

One change and two shots of vodka later, you were walkin down the steps of your condo to an awaiting Steve. He’s in dark jeans, a black t-shirt and a gray jacket. His hair is just as perfect as the last time you saw him. (which was via instagram… gotta do the research right?)

He whistles long and low as you approach, and in a quick stroke of confidence you decide to do a little spin. He claps slowly as you face him and so, you bow. Just slightly so you don’t accidentally flash him. Not the way you want to start this date.

“Well hello to you too, Harrington,” you say as you smirk.

He slips his hand in his pockets, a smirk on his lips that you feel right between your legs. “You look very pretty tonight, sweetheart. I mean you’d look pretty in a potato sac but,” he shrugs. “We should get going.”

You smile and nod at him.

And the bar is clearly in fuckin hell, because him opening the door for you makes you want to jump his bones. But then again, no man has ever opened a door for you so… we can let it slide.

“Such a gentleman.” “Chivalry is not dead sweetheart.”

…

Steve is very thoughtful. Sure, he asked all the usual questions you ask on a first date.

What’s your major?

Do you have any siblings?

What do your parents do for work?

Oh, your dad is in sales? Funny mine too.

He gives you guilt money? Mine too! Look at us

He also, orders you and him a bottle of wine (he has great taste) but lets you order your own meal (again the bar is in fucking hell). The place he takes you to is nice and the food is the best food you’ve had since you left home after summer break.

“So Steve, what made you decide to open up a bar in town?” You eat a spoonful of dessert, eyes never leaving his.

He takes a spoonful of his own dessert. “I was sick of working for everyone else. I knew if I made a unique bar, something you and your friends have never seen, others would want to check it out. Then you’d tell all your friends, who’d tell their friends, etc.” He grins as he talks, keeping eye contact with you.

It felt like a game of ‘who is going to look away first.’ A game you weren’t going to lose. Slowly, you pull the spoon out of your mouth, dipping it back in to your dessert. “Interesting. Great concept if you ask me.”

He huffs a small laugh through his nose, “I’m glad you enjoyed my bar.”

You scrunch your brows, the wine making you bold, “who said I enjoyed it?”

Now he really laughs, “you seemed to really enjoy all those lemon drop martinis. So much so you had a hangover the next day. I tried giving you waters but you threatened to gut me.”

Your jaw hangs open, “fibber.”

“I haven’t been called a fibber since I was a kid,” he smiles. “But yes you did tell me you would gut me. And then you left and I thought I’d never hear from you again.”

You can’t help but feel slightly guilty inside for not calling sooner. Well, you did call sooner but chickened out.

“And here we are.”

“Yes, here we are.”

He seems to think for a moment, sipping his wine (one he ordered that would go well with the dessert. He was right.)

“Wanna get out of here, sweetheart?” He looks up at you through his lashes, tongue rolling down the inside of his cheek.

He wasn't… demanding. You knew without a shadow of a doubt that you could turn him down. That he would take you home with a smile on his face. There would be no fuss, no fight, no name calling. No pressure.

And for that very reason, with a smile on your pretty face you answer him, “yours or mine?”

…

You’re not even through the door of his apartment before his mouth is on yours, his large hands on your face. The kiss starts soft, testing the waters and it isn’t very long before you deepen it. Your tongues dance but there is no fight for dominance, you let him win. You want him to win.

His lips trail over your jaw before slowly moving down your neck, gently nipping at your skin.

“Such a pretty girl,” he says in between kisses.

He sucks a bruise into your shoulder, easy to cover up, just in case. You let out a soft moan, hands coming up to tug at his hair.

“You-you’re pretty too.”

You can feel him grin against you, head lifting as his body cages you in, “I don’t think anyone has ever called me pretty. Well besides Eddie but that was mocking.”

You laugh, moving in and kissing him slowly, sweetly, “you are a very pretty boy.”

You can feel his hard dick jerk at the sentiment, and you keep it as a mental note. You know, just in case you need it.

“Fuck, can’t say shit like that.”

“No? Why not?”

“Cause it makes my cock hard. And it’ll be very embarrassing if I cum in my pants. Can't ruin my reputation.” The smirk on his face makes you almost pass out. You swear to God you can feel every word in your core.

“Hmmm, we can’t have that can we?” You push his jacket off his shoulders before running your hands down to the hem of his shirt. “Should take me to bed so we don’t risk you cumin’ early.”

It’s all the permission he needs. His lips are back on yours, his hands under your ass and picking you up. You wrap your legs around his waist, hands in his hair as he carries you to the bed.

He puts you down gently, his lips never leaving yours. Not for a moment. Not until he pulls away to tug his shirt over his head. You take the moment to take him in, his body lithe and toned. You also can’t help noticing the scars on his side that look a little like bite marks. Bite marks from something that isn’t human, something you make a mental note to ask him about at a later date.

“Sculpted from marble, god damn.” You don’t mean to say it out loud, never wanting to stroke a man's ego.

Steve just grins as he finds the zipper on the side of your dress, pulling it down slowly down, his knuckles slowly touching your skin, leaving goosebumps in his wake. You shiver under the touch and he notices. You’re quickly learning that Steve notices everything.

It isn’t long before he’s pulling the dress down your body, leaving you in only your underwear. Underwear that barely covers you, a wet patch on full display. If it was anyone else, you’d be embarrassed.

“Are you this wet for me?” His tone is mocking and he’s practically cooing at you, “go on. Answer me.”

Your eyes widen. Men have been demanding in the bedroom, plenty of them thinking they’re little tough guys. But none of them get that from you, none of them deserving. You’re not sure why you want to give that to him. You’re not sure what makes him different. And honestly, that is a problem for future you to talk about in therapy.

“Yes,” you reply, voice a little higher than usual. “S’all for you.”

The smirk he gives you makes your heart speed up. “Such a sweet, pretty thing. God, I want to devour you.”

His lips move to your chest, sucking a peaked nipple into his mouth. You can’t help but arch into his mouth, a small moan falling from your lips, his hand coming to play with your neglected breast. And it isn’t long before he swaps sides, his teeth nipping and sucking.

“Please. More.”

He laughs, moving to oblige you and kissing down your sternum before settling between your legs. “May I?”

Him asking makes your heart stutter in your chest, “yes. God yes. Please.”

Steve tugs your underwear down your legs, tossing them to meet the rest of the clothes on the floor. “I think I could get used to praying to me.”

He doesn’t give you time to answer before he licks up your cunt, stopping at the top to suck on your clit. The moan that comes out of you is loud and you’re thankful the windows are closed. “Fuck, Steve!”

He pushes a finger inside of you, curling them to reach the spongy spot inside you. “And you moaning my name is even better. Why don’t you do it again, angel”

He pushes another finger inside you, the burn causing you to grip his hair. “Steve please!”

“Please what, sweetheart?”

He moves his fingers faster, continuing to hit your sweet spot over and over again. His mouth moves to your clit, sucking gently. He keeps his eyes on you, observing, listening to every sweet moan and sigh that comes out of you. He files them away in his brain so he never forgets what drives you crazy.

“Need to… I-I need”

He sucks hard before pulling back, “need what? Go on, use your words.”

You gasp, “to cum. I- please.”

Begging wasn’t what you did for men. If anything, they begged you. Begged you to let them cum.

Steve doesn’t say a word, just grins and uses his free hand to press on your stomach. That is your undoing. “Steve!” You pulse around his fingers, breath getting caught in your chest. You feel warm all over, head emptying as he works you through it.

“That’s it baby. That’s a good girl. Bet that feels so good doesn’t it?”

You try to answer, you really do. But all you can manage is a small nod.

“Gonna let me fuck you?”

Again, you can only manage a nod.

“That’s my girl.”

And before you can even process his words, he flips you over on your stomach, hands pulling your hips in the air. You’re on full display for him. He can see everything. But you couldn't care less, all you want is him inside you.

And you get your wish. He moves slow, making sure he doesn’t hurt you. He’s big and you can feel every inch of him stretching you. It’s a tight fit even with how wet you are.

“Holy shit this pussy is amazing baby. Squeezing me so tight.”

His other hand braces himself by your head before dropping down to his forearms. He’s so close to you now, inside and out, his hips moving slowly so you adjust to him, and his breath fanning across your face.

“F-faster. Faster.” Your hands rake down his back, nails digging into his back, making him hiss.

He snaps his hips faster, grinning down at you. “Just so needy huh?”

You nod feverishly, “yes. F-feels so fucking good.”

He laughs at you now, kisses you. “Such a dirty mouth, baby. Pretty girls aren’t supposed to swear.”

“Says-says you… swear all the time. L-like a sailor.”

He hums. “Dirty mouth for a dirty fuckin girl.”

“That-that’s me.”

He fucks you faster and you feel like coil growing tighter and tighter inside you. You wrap your legs around his waist, not wanting him to get too far away. He groans and you can tell he’s close.

“Want… no need you to cum inside me. I’ll d-die if you don’t,” you beg. You know you’ll probably regret it in the morning, all that you’ve said here in this bedroom. But at the moment you can’t find it inside you to care. Mainly because he was taking up every inch of you.

“Yeah? Need it? I’ll give it to you baby. Will give you anything you want.”

And it’s all you need to fall over the edge, walls clenching around him so hard he falls with you. A mutual “fuck!” falls from both your and his lips.

You're both panting as you come down from the high. He pushes your hair out of your face and kisses you sweetly. Suddenly Steve is giggling, his head falling into the crook of your neck.

“What? Why are you laughing?” you ask with just a little bit of worry.

“I am so fucking glad you ordered a lemon drop martini.”

#stranger things #steve harrington #stranger things fic #Steve Harrington smut #Steve Harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x fem!reader #Steve Harrington fic #steve harrington imagine #steve x reader

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d3arapril · 7 months

Text

modern!abby headcanons

a sfw ver because i can’t get over the fact that abby isn’t real. Goodnight

⭐️ safe for all audiences. my inbox is open! any feedback, ideas or general chat is welcome <3

abby loves loving and she loves to be loved.

she loves her friends, her family and she loves you the most. she even thinks she loves the old, kind man that ran the small bookstore she’d been visiting since she was young

having lots of people around her is super important to her, she has a big heart and even though she looks like a lion she’s really just a little baby house cat that wants to make people happy <3

she’s a bit of a people pleaser sometimes. like she goes our of her way to do things for people even if she really doesn’t want to but she’s working on it 💪🏽

loves being around you but also loves time to herself to work out, read and drool on her pillow during a particularly deep sleep without being mocked by you every morning

ABBY SLEEPS LIKE A LOG. this bitch does not move during her sleep, like you could literally scream bloody murder and she’d barely flinch. she also sleeps on her front sometimes and has her face in the pillow ??? you often wonder if she’s even alive and breathing (she is) (she has little to no trauma and jerry is alive in my world so she doesn’t get nightmares etc. i want the best for her <;3)

i think she’s very particular about looking after herself/keeping clean etc and it’s a super big thing for her. although she’s fairly masc presenting don’t be fooled, shes a lil girly girl deep deep down

her hair is long and healthy because she never uses heat and uses hair masks, she looks after her skin and uses the ordinary products (they work for her ok!), she exfoliates and shaves her legs frequently bc she feels like they look more muscular when they’re smooth and she enjoys feeling like a dolphin

she’s always got her hair in that damn braid and you try convince her to do other styles but she basically refuses

“you don’t like it?” she’s whining, faking it of course - she knows you like it. “no abs i love it, just wish you’d wear your hair down more. suits you”

“well that’s reserved for only you, babe” the soft kiss she presses to your temple and the brush of her hands against your hips makes you want to braid her hair forever until your fingers seize up

i feel like abby doesn’t have much of a dress sense lmao like girl just wears plain clothes and calls it a day. basically how she dresses in game but just less dirty and more kind of.. modern and put together. not the ugly brown boots tho ❌

she wears doc marten boots and adidas sambas. has 3 different pairs of sambas actually

prefers alcohol over drugs. she likes to get drunk in moderation and she can sink so much tequila (she blames manny and nora and says they are bad influences… abby is the one pouring the shots🙄) and she becomes a lot louder and clingy when she’s drunk and thinks she can dance. she can’t.

i kind of mentioned this in my nsfw hc’s but abby probably has an old like iphone 5c or something cos she doesn’t really care about upgrading it

girl hates video games so she probably isn’t big on tech in general. as long as she can call and text she doesn’t care too much

“you may as well just get a nokia, abby..” “what am i? a drug dealer? 🙄”

sticking to the theme, abby doesn’t really use social media that much. she refused to download tiktok because she didn’t want to fall into the trap of endless scrolling (she fell into said trap approx 20 minutes after downloading the app. now it’s “babe have you seen what i sent you yet?” every 10 minutes)

doesn’t care about/keep up with trends etc, confused when u ask her about the roman empire

“i mean, i’ve read about it? what kind of question is that??”

does have a burner instagram acc that she follows u and a few of her closest friends on (not mel)

also uses snapchat every so often to send u gym pics and u get excited thinking it’ll be a mirror pic of her flexing or something but instead it’s just an extreme close up of her sweaty ass red face with the caption ‘Help 🫠’

has an album in her photos called ‘Progress’ where she tracks her gains 🥰 its ur fav and u ask to look at the pics all the time 🥰 shes ur big muscly baby 🥰

abs can get a lil bit hot headed and irate sometimes so u argue every now and then but it’s never anything major, and she always buys u flowers and grovels until you’ve made up anyways

she usually just goes to the gym if she’s feeling some type of way and works out until she’s on the verge of passing out to make her feel better (you told her that she should deal with her anger better. she told you that she know’s what she’s doing…)

calls you babe but that’s kinda it, also likes to be called babe

likes to give u massages and run you a bath… and then gets in the bath with u and takes up basically all of the space

when u went on ur first holiday together she had to use the sicky bag on the plane bc of her fear of heights :(

she’s getting better now tho, just squeezes her eyes shut and holds your hand until the bones almost break… she then falls asleep for basically the entire flight and drools onto her neck pillow lol

refuses to watch anything but american dad at bedtime bc she really enjoys it for some reason

she looks after you with all she has and would go to the end of the earth for you if she could. there’s no one else like her

#i love her #cheers sons crying #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson #the last of us fluff #the last of us #abby anderson smut #i know its not smut but this is like the onky way to get ur shit seen !!! SORRY YALL #abby baby #my writing

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bitchy-craft · 7 months

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What Kind Of Beauty You Possess | Pick A Pile

Hello and welcome to this Pick A Pile! In here you'll find out what kind of beauty you possess. I hope you guys enjoy and find this useful. Do make sure to leave comments down below on your experience! I do want to remind you all that this is a General Pick A Pile which means this is for a lot of people: therefore keep what resonates and leave what doesn't.

Masterlist > Questions > Paid Readings

Pick A Pile!

Pile 1:

You have the beauty of visuals. Your face is perfectly balanced and makes everyone want to take a look at you. If you sit down with confidence, you’ll be the most endearing of all. You have a hard time getting close to people and being able to trust people. This could give you a sense of insecurity and hide your natural beauty.

Because you are insecure or don’t have the need to stand out like that your beauty can be seen as a mysterious one, a one that is looked over. Which can be something you can enjoy as well, a mysterious form of beauty can be something one would want, if that’s the case; keep it like that, just leave that insecurity behind. You are beautiful and have a humble personality. Of course, becoming confident in your own self and finding yourself beautiful can be difficult, it’s a hard task and journey to go on, but you’re able to do it.

You have the mind and calmness to do it, the potential to grow and love yourself. Try it out, look in the mirror and find little things you find beautiful, what you like about your face and body, you’ll find more and more beautiful things the longer you are busy with this journey of self-love.

Pile 2:

You have beautiful legs and a classical form of beauty, a classical energy that is around you. All the little things about you are beautiful and attractive, they make people want to go to you and talk to you, even if they can’t fully place why. Your energy in itself is endearing and gets people to come to you and want to be with you.

Your personality may come over as feisty or direct which can get people to stay away a bit, but the awe they feel when they see you doesn’t leave. The energy around you is immaculate and there’s a possibility that you love this silent attention and the idea of people thinking good things on you, you love the silent praise and that confidence you gain from that makes you even more desirable.

You know how lovely you are, how pretty you are, but you’re still aware of the fact that you are able to grow as a person, learn new things, that you aren’t perfect and that there are still flaws when it comes to you. You’re aware that some people might not love your personality, but you’re completely okay with that. Not everyone can love everyone, and that’s completely fine.

Pile 3:

You possess the beauty of intelligence and creativity. You can think of so many ideas with such depth it’s art on it’s own. You could be an amazing and successful writer or inventor. You can be passionate about things to an amazing degree, something people look up to once they realise you have this characteristic trait.

You can make decisions with much thought yet find the answer quick. Your brain goes really fast, and that can be very chaotic, but also amazing when you get in situations where you need to think and act quickly. You are able to explain things to other people in great detail and understanding. You are good at comparing other ideas to your own and see which one is more defined, and are able to explain why you believe so.

You are open to sharing your knowledge, ideas and intelligence with other people, and love to see people you care about succeed around you. You see potential in people, you are able to be serious but there’s also a playful side to you that you’ll show when you’re comfortable enough, when you feel like you can. You are a beautiful person.

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verysium · 5 months

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i need to know what blue lock boys think about “male-female friendships” a.k.a do they think they can exist without one of two thinking “what if” situations (it can, i repeat, it can🗣️)

👏 give it up to anon for making me visualize the most stress-inducing scenario of the year. the first thing that comes to mind is that this would not sit well with a majority of the bllk boys.

however, the situation is particularly a no-go for the following:

the itoshi brothers would not approve. if you just look at their interactions, you can already tell. sae literally kicks rin for even thinking about replacing him when he goes to spain. they already have trust issues due to their dysfunctional sibling relationship, and to my knowledge, they don't have any female friends of their own. hence, i don't think they would understand that a male-female friendship is just a friendship and nothing more. regardless, this could go one of three ways. (1) they would probably give you the silent treatment and be secretly upset. would not spill anything unless you pry it out from them. (2) they would give your friend an absolute death glare. hyper-vigilant when it comes to any form of physical contact between you two. seething jealousy and possessiveness. and (3) for sae specifically, he would be petty about it. probably decides to leave you on read for the rest of the day. may or may not ghost you. and when you ask him to hang out, he's like....😒 don't you already have a friend?

reo also would not take this well. i mean....he had a whole mirror monologue and mental breakdown when nagi left him. i think he is highly insecure about people abandoning him since he doesn't really have anyone he is close to. would probably welcome your friend and hide his discomfort, but after a while, it becomes difficult for him to act like he's okay with your friendship. you would have to heavily reassure him that there was nothing beyond platonic going on between you two.

barou acts like he's alright with this situation, but your friend better have zero flaws because he's not going to tolerate anyone substandard. still, i feel like he would get jealous even if he doesn't show it directly. would probably make a fool out of your friend on purpose.

kaiser wouldn't think anything of it at first. after all, you're dating the great michael kaiser, why the hell would you need anyone else? but then, it starts getting to him. why is your attention on your friend and not him? is he not good enough for you? given his self-esteem issues, i don't think he would take this well. he would probably blame your friend first and then you. would be a dramatic baby about it, but it's secretly eating away at him from the inside out.

ness probably plots the entire murder of your friend and hides a body bag and shovel in his trunk. acts all sweet and sugary when you're present, but the moment you're not there, he's grabbing your friend by the collar and shaking the living daylights out of them. probably whispers "get the hell away from y/n" in the most menacing tone. your friend better leave because delusional ness does not come to play. his obsession is no joke.

shidou terrorizes your friend to the point they don't want to be friends with you anymore. this man just exudes a traumatizing aura. your scary dog privileges are revoked because he is now going rabid. i don't think he's going to have a problem with a male-female friendship, but you just might (as in you're not going to have much of a friendship anymore by the time he's done dismantling your friend's corpse.)

the only characters i can imagine this playing out healthily with is isagi, kurona, yukimiya, and maybe nagi.

isagi is usually highly understanding, and he has many friendships of his own. i think he would also encourage it if your friend happened to be one of his teammates or someone interested in football. but this does come with a caveat. if he senses something wrong with your friend, it's immediately game over. he's usually pretty open-minded except with the people he holds extreme dislike for. for example, isagi is willing to at least try to understand rin, but he clearly doesn't have that same willingness when it comes to kaiser. so...just don't befriend a jerk, and you're good.

kurona wouldn't mind because he's kurona. he trusts you, and he usually rationalizes his insecurities enough to keep them at bay. the only time he would have a problem is if you start neglecting him in favor of your friend. since he's pretty introverted, he probably wouldn't confront you about it, but he might feel a little bit slighted. just check up on him from time to time.

yukimiya is usually easy-going. i don't think a male-female relationship is going to be a huge problem for him, but they better treat you right. you mean the most to him, so he's going to support you through thick and thin. to be fair though, you probably won't even want to spend time with your friend because of how magnetically charming yukimiya is.

nagi doesn't mind because he just doesn't care. he's too lazy to deal with any resulting drama, and the only sense of personal attachment he has is with his bed.

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mountainsandmayhem · 10 days

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Right Person, Wrong Time

Joel Miler x Female Reader

AN: This is for @undercoverpena 's April Showers Challenge. And for once, I did not write smut. I know, who am I? This is not beta'd or really proof read. I'm basically having imposter syndrome over the whole thing soooo...Love you, say it back, bye!

You know that famous saying, “Right Person, Wrong Time”? Well, that was Joel Miller. He had the potential to be the absolute love of your life, but as a single father to a teenage girl and a small business owner, he just didn’t have the time right now. You were about to turn thirty, him thirty six in just a few days time. So, the night before his birthday you made the gut wrenching decision to end things with him.

“What do you mean we should see other people? There’s no other people.” He proclaimed, eyes filling with tears, mirroring yours.

“It’s just not the right time. I want to get married and have a baby, Joel. Do you really want that?” You have to remain strong, it had only been three months, you hadn’t met Sarah or any of his family. Same with your side, he knew about your sisters but no one else was at risk of being hurt by this break up outside of the two of you. This was the right thing to do before you both got in too deep.

Right Person, Wrong Time.

Almost twenty five years later and you still find yourself replaying that conversation. Every September, Joel flashes behind your eyelids - still perfectly clear, almost like it had just happened yesterday. Dark curly hair, patchy scruff, big brown eyes and furrowed brows; one day he’s going to have a permanent crease between them from all his sexy scowling. If you focus hard enough, you can feel his rough and calloused fingers on your skin. You can still hear his deep and silky voice, almost managing to make you feel lighter every time he said your name or called you darlin’ or sweetheart.

“That feel good, Darlin’?”

“That’s it, sweetheart. Let go for me.”

The outbreak happened not even 24 hours after you broke up with him. Had he survived? There’s no way you survived and he didn’t. Your suspicions were confirmed the day Tommy Miller showed up.

For the most part you liked to keep to yourself, running the community garden. You’re thankful for the small and safe community, but word gets around. And when you hear that Tommy’s brother has come to town you shrink even further back into the shadows, unsure if you want to see him again. Would it hurt more if he remembered you, or if he had no memory of you and that conversation that has imprinted itself upon you? Joel Miller is your last memory, both happy and sad, before the world fell apart.

Him, and the little girl he showed up with, left before you found the courage to approach him and soon winter took over Jackson, leaving you without the garden. Without the distraction from your thoughts of Joel.

The winter is long and brutal. April finally rolls around, and you trudge out into the rain and head to the dining hall for dinner. The gates open in the distance, but you’re lost in your own thoughts. This is more rain than you have seen in months. The garden is going to love it, you think. Just as you’re about to step up the creaky wooden steps you hear your name. It floats across the commune in a deep, gravelly, and oh so familiar voice.

You stop, tears flooding your lash line and the mud squeaking under your rubber boots as you turn to look at him through glassy eyes. Your lips part and your mouth goes dry at the sight of him. The world around you melts away. All you can see and hear is Joel Miller. He’s aged, grey peppers his temples and facial hair, he has those lines that you knew he would permanently etched between his brows, but those big brown eyes are like they’ve been frozen in time as they dance around your face.

“It’s you,” he says softly, voice shaking in a mix of sadness and relief, as he takes a few steps towards you. “I-I can’t believe it. I’ve, well…” He rakes his fingers through his soaked curls as you stare at him. The rain is coming down in a steady sheet, the ground becoming a muddy mess, and both of your clothes completely soaked through. You haven’t taken a breath in what feels like hours.

It’s you.

“I have thought about you almost every day since the world fell apart,” he continues, his warm voice washing over you like molasses. “When I was at my lowest I would think of that little dimple you get when you smile, or that time wine came out of your nose from when you laughed at that stupid joke I made. I don’t remember the joke, but I remember how happy you looked as the sun set and the orange glow lit your skin. I’d remember the way your face scrunched up when you tried whiskey for the first time. I would remember where all your freckles are, and how soft you were against my lips as I kissed every single one. I’d think of that first time we made love, how I’d never felt that overwhelmed with emotion for another person before, how in that moment I realized that I was truly fucked when it came to you. It was anything you wanted, sweetheart. Even if it meant you wanted to break up. I never should have let you go, darin’. I’m so sorry. I tried to find you before we fled for Boston.”

By the time he’s done talking you’re right in front of him, chest grazing his, close enough that you can feel the heat of him. You have no idea how you got that close to him. You don’t remember moving your feet. Joel Miller, your Joel Miller. Greyer, lines around his eyes, but yours.

As the rain pelts down you waste no time, reaching up around his neck as he lifts you up and into his embrace. Your noses graze as you whisper a quiet ‘I missed you so much’ into his lips.

“I’m never letting you go, baby. Never again.” He says and then you press your lips into his in a searing kiss. It lights your whole body on fire, you feel like you’ve been hit by a defibrillator.

You’re alive again.

====================

Taglist:

@corazondebeskar @hiddenbabynyc @rainstorms-library @smutsmutslut @sullyrocky44 @keylimebeag @pimosworld @casa-boiardi i @pedritoferg @lorilane33 @pansexual-potatoes @baar-ur @jessthebaker @jasminedragoon @koshkaj-blog @pedroswife69 @strawberri-blonde @none-of-this-makes-any-sense @iloveenya @javierpena-inatacvest @blazeflays @akah565 @pinkiec6-rubi @pedroshotwifey @iluvurfather @ashleyfilm @mermaidgirl30 @untamedheart81

#undercoveraprilshowerschallenge #joel miller #joel miller tlou #pedro pascal #joel the last of us #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel miller x reader #joel angst #joel miller angst

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generalsdiary · 2 months

Text

09:07 am

gn!reader x Dr. Ratio

warnings: none

word count: 600~

a/n: pure brainrot, not beta read, jamming to sparkle’s theme

description: you do his eyeliner, drabble (fluff)

„hold still“ you dictate under your breath, your hand holding his chin in place.

he sighs. „I am very still-“ „yapping means you are not being still, I'll mess up the line, Veritas“ causing a glare from him. your other hand was resting on his cheek and attempting to make a perfect red line on his eyelid.

it looked... good enough when you were done. you moved your hand away, placing the brush on the nightstand and relaxing your posture. „there“

Veritas brings a small mirror to check your work, „hmm... I've done better. of course I do it every day“ his eyes leave the mirror and catch you glaring at him, „it was a bonding moment, Doctor Ratio“ your tone of voice revealing sarcasm and a hint of annoyment.

„that doesn't clear you away from criticism, especially if you wish to improve.“ his hands pull you back onto his lap, his eyes, the color of an eternal sunset, turning soft, „which would be good for you, you could then do it more often.“ Veritas smiles showing the gentle reasoning to his somewhat harsh sounding words. his swift change in behavior catches you slightly off guard.

„so hot and cold“ responding in a teasing tone.

„ah, I'd say I'm more hot than cold right now, aren't I,-“ his hand cups your chin, „my dear?“

a smile is apparent on your face, as is the eye roll, „and cocky it seems“ making him scoff at your words and look away. „don't worry Veritas, that is one of the reasons I... tolerate you“ you communicate those words in the form of a kiss on his cheek. Veritas' expression relaxes, his eyes closing.

„who's the hot and cold one now?“ his voice but a mere whisper. „unlike yourself, that isn't one of the reasons I like you.“ he waits for a response, patiently scanning your face to see if you'll try to guess. „then what is?“ guessing game isn't worth it at this moment, Veritas very obviously has a specific reason in mind and you feel excited to hear it.

„your kindness. and tolerance, towards... idiots“ to him, those words are completely true, despite his aloof character and at first glance rude behavior he cares a lot. he made sacrifices that benefit… well the whole universe; solving an energy crisis, creating serums, fixing centuries-old issues, and to him, most importantly, he continuously tries to make knowledge available to all people. of course, Ratio would appreciate those same qualities in his partner, not seeking a ‘genius’ necessarily, but rather just a humanitarian, sensible person.

Veritas' words don't fail to make you laugh and ruffle his silky soft violet hair, „and you! are my favorite~“ you exclaim proudly, with a shit-eating grin on your face, knowing he will react to the provocation.

„oh?“ he smirks as well, his hands moving from your sides to your back, he lays back and pushes you with him, making you gasp sharply. „what was it- I didn't catch that, what am I?“ he teases, his voice playful.

„an id-“ Veritas doesn't let you finish your thought, his lips crashing against yours, and when you start enjoying the kiss and the sweet taste of his lips - he pulls away, keeping it painfully short.

„hm... you were saying?“ his hand goes to the back of your head, rubbing your nape.

you frown, how dare he limit the kisses, „an idio-“ once again Veritas doesn’t let you finish the thought, pulling your lips onto his again. you can't help but chuckle and softly mumble between your lips meeting, „my favorite~“, „you mean the only one“, a laugh bubbles up your throat, even in a joke he wants it to be factually correct… or is it a hint of jealousy? doubtful, he isn’t a jealous man to your knowledge. food for thought perhaps.

„yes, the only one.“

#hsr #honkai star rail #star rail #dr ratio #dr ratio x you #dr ratio fluff #dr ratio x reader #veritas ratio fluff #veritas ratio #veritas ratio x you #veritas ratio x reader #doctor ratio fluff

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yandere-kokeshi · 10 months

Note

Yan! Hobie with a Goth Reader

Warnings: yandere behavior

A/N: I love this troupe. Ty for requesting! Hope you enjoy <33

He was immediately smitten when he first saw you. His eyes followed your form like a bee finding its honey. Honestly, it’s the similarities that drew him to you.

You were attractive - your dramatic and heavy makeup, full black but catchy clothes that don’t go with ‘the labels’, and piercings that were always changed; never sticking to one single move.

With makeup, he loves watching you do your eyeliner and designs that may take forever to do. He always smiles behind you in the mirror, do which, he always makes sure to kiss you - even if you’re wearing lipstick. He secretly hopes it’ll stay on him.

If you’ve got piercings, he’s constantly dying to mess with them. Hobie often buys you a bunch of sets, especially things that may or may not offend people (ex. Sigils, curse words, teeth related, etc).

To no surprise, likely Hobie has a piercing license, which means he’s more than up to give you more piercings if you’d like. He’s incredibly gentle, really fast, and always concentrated to make sure everything goes correctly.

He shares a playlist of both of your favorite artists and music, often making you listen to it whenever he comes over to spend time with you.

Your style is really hot to him. Your black studded boots? He’s gonna make some that are similar to yours. Hoodies that have patched holes and meshed sleeves? You can bet Hobie is sewing it up and decorating your clothes before you get home from the store. Have fishnet leggings? He’s tearing custom holes in them, making sure they feel comfortable to your liking.

Definitely steals your hoodies and band t-shirts constantly, always allowing you to steal his too. Plus, Hobie lets you wear his jacket - something that’s pretty important to him.

Like wearing thick and heavy collars? You can bet he will buy so much more; going out of his way to find one that he knows you’ll love. And maybe, Hobie will custom a collar that has his name on it. Of course, he’ll let you borrow his if you want.

Both of you have nights where he will do your makeup for you - letting you rest on the bed as he sits on your lap, looking down at you as he carefully applies a mystery of dark makeup. He lets you do the same thing to him, absolutely letting you go crazy and not letting you back.

You can bet your ass Hobie will ask if he can paint your fingernails black. Of course, you can’t deny him with his huge smirk and adorable dog eyes.

—

Masterlist || Please consider reblogging and commenting instead of liking, it helps me as a creator!! Stay well!!

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iwritenarrativesandstuff · 1 year

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Q's Relevance and Parallels to Double Black

I had a sudden brainwave of thoughts (read: I only got three hours of sleep last night) and needed to share. I've thought this for awhile but I really think Q will be returning to the series at some point.

First of all, there's just too much ambiguity there and I want to know more about Q in general. What happened to Q to spawn an ability like that? Why does Dazai speak about them like they're the devil incarnate? What was the incident that led to so many Mafia deaths in an effort to lock Q up? Is there any significance to Q's unusual eyes (remember that most characters tend to have fairly normal eyes, and this is a series where the eyes carry symbolic weight)? What's with Q being strung up in this position that is eerily similar to a crucifixion, shortly before Steinbeck has a conversation about God existing but not loving them?

There's a lot there. I've spoken about this before in the meta I did about Dazai's change in approach after the Q chapter, which was genuinely an unexpected event he did not anticipate. But there's something fascinating about the way Chuuya reacts to Q as well. In fact, both Dazai and Chuuya are almost uncharacteristically murderous towards this kid, and that's real interesting, seeing as many aspects of Q mirror aspects of their younger selves.

Now I understand you might be thinking: uncharacteristically murderous? Story, they have both literally killed many, many people before. Yes, but context is important here.

Dazai doesn't have strong violent urges - not even in the Mafia, where he was considered terrifying more so due to his apathy in killing than anything. I can't remember a scene where Dazai is described as radiating bloodlust like Kyouka or Mori. Dazai is scary because of his indifferent hollowness at his worst points. Odasaku was described similarly in Untold Origins - there was no real desire to kill, just a listless cold follow-through. Dazai's sadistic methods, brought up by Higuchi in Chapter 25, are acknowledged as a means to an end, a method, not something done out of any strong desire or enjoyment. So when Dazai makes death threats or appears visibly angered - that's something worth taking note of. For him to make a promise to Q to pluck out their heart - holy shit. That is not typical Dazai behaviour. He doesn't even make that kind of threat towards Fyodor. Whatever happened in the past clearly shook him, enough for this moment to change his approach in the series and send him back to using darker methods again.

As for Chuuya, while he has and does kill quite readily, this is mostly in the heat of a fight. For him to give the go-ahead for murdering an unconscious child - it's unusually cold-blooded for him, and I can't think of another instance where he's down with lethal intent outside of combat and direct orders. I've seen some people talk about his reaction to Dazai suggesting he'll kill Q as proof that he's gotten darker since we saw him last in Stormbringer, from someone who would plead for the lives of the Sheep to be spared ("They're just kids") to being ready and willing to kill a defenseless child. While I think it's likely true that he's gone darker since that point - Chuuya appears to be more cynical in the present as well as having darker eyes with a smaller central pinprick of light than in Fifteen and Stormbringer - that's not the only thing going on here.

Thing is, Chuuya has always been fairly ruthless. He’s a very vengeance oriented character, right down to his fighting style (rebounding attacks and bullets). Hurt him or someone he cares about and he hurts back - and that threat will be destroyed. Parallel to this is how he is seemingly unable to turn his back on people who have helped him. Help him and he will remain loyal and protective even if that person goes on to stab him in the back. He has a very “give and take” mentality. Chuuya operates on the reciprocity principle.

So, about Q, here’s the thing: Q is a part of the Mafia, that's true. But Q has never helped them, only hurt indiscriminately. Mafia philosophy says “protect your own and follow the boss' wishes no matter what”. But Chuuya’s philosophy is saying “neutralize the threat”. And interestingly, Chuuya’s philosophy won here. If Dazai had've killed Q, Chuuya would’ve defied Mori’s orders in favour of his own judgement, which is extra intriguing because it emphasizes Chuuya’s loyalty to the people within the Mafia, not the Mafia as an organization itself. This is in full contrast to people like Tachihara and Hirotsu, who prioritize the organization and orders above all.

And about Q being a child: I don’t think this is such a big change in his character if I'm being honest. Chuuya knows full well how dangerous a child can be - he was that dangerous child. People underestimated him as a teenager and paid for it dearly; do you really think he'd make that same mistake? He also has a very warped view on the responsibilities and ways a child should be treated… while I do believe he probably is protective of those younger than him, he also equally understands that a child can be just as much of a threat as anyone else. For Chuuya, it’s always a matter of what wins out: the person or the threat? In this case, it was the latter.

The thing is, it's interesting the way they react when you look at the way Q eerily parallels aspects of their younger selves - as well as some things that carry over to the present.

Dazai and Q share central themes of control.

Q's mind control ability is actually referenced by Dazai as being essentially the worst kind of ability there is, and I know I've mentioned before how he seems to react poorly to those people who attempt to mentally control others, placing them on a heightened level of danger (think Fyodor, Mori). I don't think I need to get into Dazai's control freak tendencies - and what's more, after Q's introduction, after he says that mind control is the worst kind of ability there is - he ramps up his masterminding and enacts as much control as he can over the proceedings of the events that follow. Q's ability is interesting in the sense that it allows them control over others, implying Q came from a background of little control. I have also hypothesized that Dazai, with his need for situational control, similarly came from a background of little control. It's also likely they both were hurt by others - Q's ability turns any pain inflicted on them back around, giving them a way to fight back, while Dazai can level the playing field of any unfair advantages by nullifying abilities.

Q's small segment in Fifteen is also interesting: they're near completely zoned out, just staring off into the distance without responding to their environment until Dazai gets directly in their face. Then Q suddenly flips a switch and becomes all cheerful and playful. It reminds me of young Dazai's quick switches between faux cheerfulness and emptiness earlier in that same book.

They also both have quite interesting relations to pain. Q wonders why cruel things always hurt them, but Q makes this a foregone conclusion by purposely arranging others to hurt them so they have an excuse to hurt those people back. Q's pain becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy: they hate it, but the only means of control they know in interactions with others requires it. Dazai similarly hates pain - his pain loop, however, is more emotional than physical. Dazai feels isolated and alienated from others, but his attempts to exert control require him to distance himself and rely on his mind over all else. He also leans into his inhuman side when it becomes apparent pain is unavoidable (I think often of his reactions throughout Dark Era to Ango's betrayal) - again, this becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. He will not find anything. He will continue to be separate from humanity if this cycle continues. That was why it was imperative that Odasaku break him out of it. Self-sabotage behaviours and unhealthy cycles, physical and emotional, are apparent with these two.

For bonus points: both have injured right arms.

On a more superficial level too, Q and Dazai both have "creepy child" energy, with emphasis on the child part - they are both legitimately disturbing at times but also have moments where they show childlike interest and behaviour. (I encourage people to check out Q's mayoi cards for this - I know it's not super canon or anything but it emphasizes their "kiddishness".)

Also I'm unsure if this is significant, but there's this detail too:

Q has a very unusual right eye with a star in the center. The right eye is also the one Dazai kept covered in the Mafia. Notably also, Q's right eye is frequently obscured by their hair in key scenes.

...Does it mean something? I have no idea. But it's potentially interesting so I thought I'd add it.

Meanwhile, Chuuya and Q share themes of loss of control.

For Q, this is quite obvious. They are literally locked up; imprisoned within the Mafia and unable to exert control over their circumstances. For Chuuya, it's a little more subtle but still present, I believe: I invite people to look at his character song and mayoi (particularly aquarium) for direct references to feelings of being trapped. However, looking at Fifteen and Stormbringer, there are a few mentions of freedom that are intriguing in relation to Chuuya's character. In Fifteen, both Dazai and Shirase mention Chuuya's "freedom"... but this is almost a mockery of what's really going on. A party to celebrate Chuuya's freedom is really an elaborate set up for a trap. Shirase telling Chuuya that he should have the freedom to act on his own wishes is really a cover up for a betrayal. In both instances, Chuuya's freedom is a lie. Stormbringer, at the very least, instates a sense of agency where he at least has the freedom to make choices about his own actions - that's the whole point of his hat; it's a symbol of autonomy (also anti-mind control; more on that in a bit). However, Stormbringer also systematically strips away the start of any alternate path Chuuya could've taken - he cannot be the child he was, he never got to hear the pitch on living in the light. He feels genuine gratitude towards those in the Mafia - they have his back, which is more than he could say before, but at the same time, the Mafia is kind of the last option available there if he wants not to be alone... and Chuuya does not want to be alone. (Seriously. His character song. Please look at it. Also Stormbringer.)

Now, onto their abilities, which also parallel in the sense that they are both used to "get back" at people. Chuuya rebounds attacks - bullets shot at him ricochet back at the people who fired, and Q hurts people who hurt them. There's a very reciprocal relation to the way they use their abilities, and it is absolutely to induce fear and intimidation in others, but there's a key difference. Namely, Chuuya fights only against enemies or people who strike first. Q, on the other hand, intentionally makes "enemies" out of even innocent bystanders just to have a reason to hurt them back. A lot of this is due to Q's misanthropic nature - I doubt Q has ever had a positive bond with another person, and so Q sees the whole world as their enemy - a world which, to them, does not want them in it. Chuuya, on the other hand, has had people who care about him, and he cares about them in turn. He's a bit jaded but he doesn't hate humanity, far from it.

In that sense, Q parallels Verlaine in a sense, right down to being kept in a special secret room in the Mafia, hehe. Though again, there's differences. Verlaine chooses to stay in that room, first of all, while Q doesn't have a choice. Verlaine's angst is internal identity based while Q's is more external situation based. In response to their pain, Verlaine chooses to relinquish control of himself (Brutalization), and Q chooses to have everyone else lose control of themselves (Dogra Magra). Verlaine says "look at how monstrous I am and how I hate and hurt because of it" and Q says "look at how monstrous you all are and how I hate and hurt because of it".

Chuuya is not so far on either extreme that he emulates this - but he could've ended up like Verlaine, and he admits it in Stormbringer. He could've maybe ended up something like Q too, if he'd remained trapped as a lab rat. But see here's the key with Chuuya: his hat makes it so the choice to lose control of himself is his alone, and moreover, that losing control doesn't mean he goes out of control. He trusts that he can lose control for a bit, place it in someone else's hands for awhile before it goes too far. Trusts that the choice to lose himself will be followed by the keeping of a promise to bring him back to himself. Chuuya has bonds, and that's the key difference.

But uh. Going back to parallels... about the scene where Q gets tortured... and the scene where Chuuya gets tortured...

Is this significant...?

...is... is this...

...

.............

Um. I may be delusional. But. Well. *gestures at all of this*

So, where does this leave us? Well, we have Dazai, who sees a manipulative, mind-controlling kid that he calls a "walking disaster", and we have Chuuya, who sees a dangerous ability user that is too big of a potential threat to not be dealt with, so the two decide the best course of action is to kill them about it. The reason Dazai did not follow through is likely a mix of his stated reason (the Mafia cannot harm Dazai so long as he is needed to stop Q), and probably also that he isn't really supposed to be directly killing anymore.

Nice, guys. Really clear and consciously held self-concepts you got there.

Considering everything, it's maddening that all we have on the dynamic between these three is: Q joins in Fifteen at the same time as the other two and is assigned to Dazai since he can stop their ability. Mori doesn't know what it is at that point but assumes whatever it is will be manageable because Dazai can just nullify it. It... clearly wasn't.

I feel like there has to be something here and that we're going to be coming back to it. Q, the old Boss, how Mori got so close as an underground physician in such a short time... there's so much about the Mafia we don't know so I'm assuming the story will shift to focus on these points again... someday. Hopefully.

#i have even more thoughts unwritten if you can believe it but seeing as it is 4 am i should probably stop. also this is too long.#but yeah i frequently think about how horrified and genuinely spiteful dazai is with q like... what happened???#ok just had an awful thought: what if whatever happened with q inspired dazai's brutal treatment of akutagawa #...honestly maybe. it's actually a possibility if something went terribly wrong before.#this... isn't the meta i was supposed to be writing or even started to write... oh well #enjoy?#is this even coherent?#bsd #bsd meta #bsd q #bsd dazai #bsd chuuya #soukoku #skk #bsd fifteen #bsd stormbringer #storyrambles

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chouxsardine · 4 months

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Permission to Fall -- Jake Kiszka x reader

Summary: "Don't be afraid of falling, because he will catch you everytime" --Where things became too much at your company's Christmas party and Jake comes to the rescue as the most thoughtful boyfriend that he is.

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x reader

Word Count: 3211

Warnings: descriptions of a panic attack, feet (nothing gross or super detailed), a drop of superstition (let me know if I've missed any)

Genre: Fluff, hurt/comfort

Author's note: This is originally an idea inspired by @jakesguitarsolo and written for her. I hope you feel better now, dear. One idea spins into me pulling an all nighter...And here it is. This also goes to whoever feels stressed around this time of the year. Yes, things are tough, but you are stronger. I am so proud of you. If you want to talk, feel free to send me an ask or message. This is my first gvf fic and my first time writing anything for threes years. I really enjoyed writing it. I hope you enjoy reading it too.

🎧: I am listening to I Need You Most of All by Stephen Sanchez while writing this (you can tell the title is taken from the lyrics)

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Suddenly everything is too much.

But you know damn well that it doesn’t just happen “suddenly”. In fact, shit has been building up for days, or even weeks. You don’t know if it’s the end-of-year frenzy getting into everyone’s head, Mercury is in retrograde, or the depleted Vitamin D levels due to shortened daylight, you’ve had it particularly rough recently, from small inconveniences like your favourite snack being out of stock at the local grocery store for three consecutive weeks to mishaps like you taking the blame for your impotent coworker. You are exhausted, to say the least; you couldn’t wait for the holidays. Not entirely for its cheer, but for the few precious days off. You just need a break from everything.

Now you are stuck in your company’s holiday party. The annual event that you dreaded the most. It involves too many fake smiles, false-hearted small talk, and tooth-rotting-sweet cupcakes that clearly have too much food colouring. All the mental preparing goes south as you stand in the room, the stabbing pain from your high-heels growing more and more unbearable by the second. Too many people.

“Just another thirty minutes, you can do it. Just another thirty minutes”. You hopelessly glance at the clock on the wall, flashbacking to your childhood self squirming in the seats waiting for math class to end.

But of course, something has to make matters worse. The real straw that breaks the camel’s back is your clumsy coworker accidentally bumping into you and spilling her drink on your shoes.

“Oh my god, I am so so sorry, y/n!” She hastily apologizes in a high-pitched squeal. A few people turn their heads toward your direction.

“No, no, it’s okay, don’t worry about it.” Embarrassment. Embarrassment. Panic. Trouble. You try to wave her off. The shoes aren’t even your top concerns right now; you just want her to stop talking and stop attracting more unwanted attention.

“Really? Oh I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to! It’s just—”

“Please.” You take the handful of tissues from her, look her in the eyes, almost pleading, “It’s fine. Please excuse me, I’ll just go to the washroom real quick.”

Once the washroom door is closed behind you, you feel like collapsing right there on the floor. You wobble your way to the sink, arms propped up on the cold marble surface. You don’t dare to look at yourself in the mirror. Your ears are buzzing and the twisted feeling in your lungs tightens. As if a cold hand is wringing a wet towel inside your stomach, as if someone is shoving your head into cold water, you can't breath properly. You try to draw a breath, but end up sounding like a stranded whale. Before it develops into a full-blown panic attack that you can’t handle, you managed to muster the last bit of your sanity and dial that number with trembling fingers.

Jake picks up on the second ring.

“Hi, love. What’s up? ”

Upon hearing his voice, your tears break free. You are sobbing so hard that you have to bite down on your knuckles to keep the volume down. God forbid any busybody out there overhearing sobbing coming out of the washroom. “Ja—Jake—-”You struggled to form a coherent syllable.

“What’s wrong, y/n? Are you hurt?” His voice immediately grows sterner, stripped of of the previous languidness.

To talk under this state feels like squeezing words out of your veins. “Ca—can—you..come p—pick me up? Company—p-party.” You stutter through gritted teeth.

There is some shuffled noise over the phone, a loud bang sounding like he had bumped into something, a silent “fuck” under his breath, then his voice reaches your ears again: “Coming right now, baby, take a deep breath for me.”

You hear the faint beeping of car keys. More shuffled noise. More beeping. That means he has started the car, right? That means he will be here soon, right? You mind is racing and spinning and your lungs are still acting up, only allow silvers of oxygen into your body. You feel like you are watching the world through a distorted filter. A scarier thought jumps into your brain: you whiny puny thing, continue crying and your panic will affect Jake. The roads are slippery now, and it will be all your fault if he ends up in a car accident.

As if being slapped in the face, you manage to suck in a deep breath like a scuba diver resurfacing to the water: “Drive safe please, please Jake, please—I will wait for you.”

Jake makes a sound that is somewhat between a relieved laugh and a resigned sigh. He knows instantly what’s going on in your overthinking brain; you are worried about him. The thoughtfulness must be engraved in y/n’s brain, he thought, always, always putting others in front of herself, even when she’s having a panic attack. And Jake knows you are correct. It is only upon hearing your words that he realizes how hard he was gripping the steering wheel. He recomposes himself, relaxing his shoulder, “Don’t you worry about me, love. I will stay on the phone if that makes you feel better, yeah? Ain’t nothing gonna happen to me.”

“Knock on wood!” You hiss between sobbing, frantically searching for any wooden material around you. Damn it, why is everything so shiny and glassy?

Jake is amazed that he even lets out a short laugh under the circumstances. Yes, his heart aches hearing his girl being a mess over the phone, and he wishes he could grow wings and fly to her side. But meanwhile, he can't help but find you cute like this. He knocks three times on the mini wooden tissue box that he keeps in the middle console.

“Yes, knock on wood. You hear that, doll?”

“Hmm.” You would honestly believe anything now. Hearing Jake’s voice and imagining him coming to you is like brown noise for babies. Your lungs finally decide to have mercy on you, and you can now somehow draw in shallow breaths albeit the pain in your chest.

Jake is relieved as he sees the green lights shining at the last intersection before turning left onto the side road where your company is located. “I’m here. Can you come down by yourself, love? Or do you want me to get you?”

“I can come down.” You say. The thought of him finding you in a messy pile on the bathroom floor makes you wince, even though he’d probably seen worse.

“Okay baby, see you in a second.”

You don’t remember how you collected your coat and pushed your way through the crowded room without many people noticing. The next moment, your sensations are restored, and you find yourself already in Jake’s arms. He's waiting for you in the area between the automatic glass door and the revolving door outside, a place that is warm with air conditioning but won’t attract nosy people. He wraps you in a hug with his wool jacket. His comforting scent fills your nostrils, a powerful pacifier for your naughty lungs. For the first time this evening, you can finally breathe properly like a normal human being. The rush of fresh air makes you release a loud sob like a newborn baby. The relief of seeing him safely standing in front of you and the release of finally being free from the stressful and stuffy environment ushers more tears to stream down your face.

“Shhhh…..you’re okay now, y/n, safe now. I’m here.” His hand wraps protectively around the back of your head as he plants kisses into your hair. “Poor girl, let’s get to the car and go home.”

Home. Home sounds heavenly to your right now. You couldn’t think of a better combination of these four letters in the whole of human history.

On the way back, you curl into a ball on the passenger seat like a battered puppy. Jake holds your hand whenever he gets the chance, his strong calloused fingers gently massaging yours, tracing the patterns on your palm, his thumb brushing the back of your hand, providing warmth. No longer crying, your shoulders occasionally shudder with involuntary sobs that escape you. But other than that, you are falling into a trance. Your gaze concentrated on Jake’s perfect side profile through hooded eyes, watching in awe as the passing streetlights formed patterns of shadow on his graceful nose and cheeks; your mind numb without a single thought.

It is only when Jake wakes you up that you realize you have fallen asleep. The car is already parked in the garage, the familiar and comforting damp smell seeping in.

“We are home now, sleepyhead.” Jake smiles at you, tapping on your wrist to signal you to wait as he gets out of the car and opens your side of the door. Just as you were about to step off, Jake reaches to cradle you by the shoulders and knees, carrying you bridle-style into the house. You hide your face shyly in the crook of his neck, secretly grateful because your feet are indeed sore in those heels.

Jake puts you down by the shoe rack, motioning you to put your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself as he squats down in front you, holding your ankles and taking off your shoes. If he did see the stains, he didn’t ask any questions, only cooed when he saw the blisters on your heels.

“Let’s go upstairs and get your makeup off, then we’ll cuddle and go to bed, yeah?” Jake stands up, hanging up your coat before cupping your cheeks and placing a kiss on your forehead.

You never hated makeup more than now, regretting to put it on in the first place, now that it has become the annoying barrier lying in your way to bedtime. But Jake says “let’s,” that means he’s going to do it together with you, right?

“Jake?” You whine bashfully.

“Yes, love?”

You tilt up your chin and close your eyes, “One more kissy, please?”

Jake swears he feels a part of his heart melt right there. Who is he to deny you?

“Of course, as many as my princess would like.”

Stepping into the bathroom, Jake sits you on the closed toilet seat. He opens the drawer, grabs your makeup remover and some cotton pads. He applies some liquid onto the wipes and lifts up your chin.

“Close your eyes for me, love.” The cool liquid on your eyelids makes your eyebrows twitch, causing Jake to chuckle, “I know, I know. Just a little longer.”

You sit quietly, mesmerized and hypnotized under his touch. His movements are almost rhythmic. Is this how cats feel when their owners scratches behind their ears? You fear that if you make a sound, you will actually let out a purr.

Jake continues until most of your makeup is gone. “Hold out your hands,” you hear him say and complied. Two dollops of foamy liquid landed in the centre of your palm, and you opened your eyes to recognize they are your face wash. Jake tugs on your wrist, leading you to stand in front of the sink.

“Can you wash your pretty face now, darling? Wash up, and I’ll be back in a minute.”

You nodded, feeling lighter and more relaxed now without your makeup and even more content when you turn on the tap and find out that Jake has already tuned it to a lukewarm temperature for you.

When Jake returned, he was calling you from the bedroom. You have already brushed your teeth and let down your hair.

You walked into the bedroom and are welcomed by the scent of bergamot and sandalwood from your favourite candle glowing on the night stand. Jake was pulling an old T-shirt out from the closet. It was the vintage Joan Jett and The Blackhearts shirt, the patterns half faded, and materials worn-out soft. You saw him laying out one of his boxers for you too. He knows you always prefer them to your own underwear as pyjamas.

“Come sit, angel.” He patted the bench at the foot of the bed, him sitting across from it on a small stool.

It is only when you walked close that you saw the wooden foot spa basin, with clouds of steam rising from it. As you sat down, he gently took your ankle and balanced your feet on the edge of the basin, so that the hot water is steaming your sole.

“It’s still a bit hot.” He looks up to you. “I put Epsom salt and eucalyptus oil in it.”

“Where did you get this?” You feel like the heat from the bottom of the feet is slowly being absorbed into your veins and rising up to your cheeks. You wiggle your toes nervously.

Jake lets out a giggle, “Well, mum suggested once to Josh about the foot spa thing, said it helps with stress and tense muscles. You know, with him running barefoot on stage and all.” He reaches down to sprinkle some water onto your feet, letting you adjust to the temperature. “But Josh got the fancy electric ones. I thought this is better. More authentic, don’t you think?”

“Uh-hmm.”

“Your nails are all chipped,” Jake looks down, “maybe tomorrow we can repaint them? I saw you bought a new colour the other day.”

Tender. So tender. From his tone to his caramel brown eyes. The light from the lamp illuminates the left side of his face, giving it a solemn, smooth glow like a wax statue. Your heart swells; love makes it rise like Soufflé in the oven. The soft surface rises up until it touches your ribcage, threatening to spill those tears again.

“Thank you, Jake.” You dare not raise your voice, fearing that it will break, “I just got a bit overwhelmed at the party, is all.”

Jake eases your feet slowly into the water now that it’s the perfect temperature. The slight sling of your blisters is soon overwhelmed by the all-encompassing warmth that rises all the way to your ankle.

After a few heart beats, he speaks again. “You’ll always have me, y/n. You are allowed to fall, to break. I will be here to catch you, to piece you together. Whatever you need.”

Finally you were snuggled together in bed. You, a human koala, cling to Jake with your face pressed against his chest. His arm snakes around your shoulder, fingers mindlessly tracing your collarbone, strumming some unknown patterns. His heartbeat thumping in your ear, the perfect lullaby. The steady rise and fall of his chest is like waves, rocking you into a sweet slumber. Your eyelids feel heavy like velvet drapes. There’s still a stubborn voice in your brain keeping you from falling asleep. There’s still one more thing you need to do, even though you understood each other perfectly.

“Jake?” Your voice low like a murmur. Jake almost didn’t hear you at first.

“What is it, babe?”

“I love you.” Those words come out as a slur, and like a magic spell, you fall into the deep embrace of sleep as soon as the last syllable leaves your lips. Now clear of any stress and worries in the arms of your lover, the strained string in you brain that has been holding on for dear life the whole evening finally snaps. You’re out like a light.

“I love you back, y/n, through and through.” He whispers into your dream.

You woke up to an empty bed, the sheet on his side still has the human-shaped imprint. Jake is a night owl; it is pretty common that he just gets up in the middle of the night and ends up doing some random things around the house. Most often it’s him strumming the guitar and experimenting with his ideas for new tunes in the home studio downstairs. But you have also caught him fixing chipped paint on the walls, repotting the succulents in the garage, and pouring broth into the crockpot with chicken thighs and smoked ham hock (“so we could have warm chicken chili in the morning!”; to be honest, it’s indeed delicious; you had two bowls and had to skip lunch that day). Just to name a few, so the possibilities are endless.

You get out of bed, creep cross the corridor and tiptoe your way down the stairs. The lights at the doorway are on; you thought Jake forgot to turn them off. However, as you approach, you see Jake squatting down next to the shoe rack, his back towards you, and a brush and some spray bottles laying nearby.

You move closer and see him holding the clothes steamer near your wine-stained shoes. The heels you wore have a suede tip in the front, and unfortunately, that’s where the wine was mostly spilt on. After a few moments, Jake uses the wire brush to clean the surface. He stops from time to time, holding it further to inspect the result.

You waited until he stops again to make some sounds, announcing your presence. Jake immediately turns around. His eyes softens upon seeing you.

“What are you doing up?”

You go to squat down next to him, kissing his temple before resting your head on his shoulder.

“You just bought these not so long ago, yeah? It’d be a shame to leave them stained.” Jake lets more steam soak into the fabric before brushing them again. “I’m almost done. I saw this trick online, and it looks pretty legit.” It’s only then that you noticed his phone on the side, the screen showing the replies from some Reddit post.

“Thank you, baby.” You rub your cheeks slightly on his T-shirt; the feeling of warm pastry once again fills your heart.

“No worries, doll. I think it’s good for now. Let’s leave them here and check in the morning.” Jake starts putting away his tools before pulling you up and wrapping his arm around your waist, leading you back upstairs.

On your way, something familiar catches your eye. You must’ve missed it earlier.

“Wait, where did you get that?” You stop, pointing at what happens to be a whole case of your favourite snack lying on the kitchen counter.

“Oh, I saw the stores are out of them, so I ordered them online. They just arrived today.” Jake scratches his head, his tone tainted with slight disappointment.“I thought they’d be a nice surprise as stocking stuffers, but…”

You stopped him mid-sentence with a kiss.

“I love you.” This time you said it clear against his lips.

“Oh doll, I love you back,” he smiles, showing the cutest wrinkle on his nose. His hands brush your shoulder as you resume your steps upstairs. “Let’s get a few more hours of sleep now. And when you wake up, you will wake up to some yummy pancakes and a pair of stain-free shoes, huh? How does that sound?”

Oh Lord, that sounds heavenly. That sounds just like home.

“I’d like that, Jake. I’d like that very, very much.”

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Thank you for reading :) any comments and feedbacks are greatly welcomed and deeply appreciated

(The stain-removing tips comes from malccy72 on reddit :D

If you also feel like reading a smutty (but also fluffy?) piece🤭: Mariner's Complex || Love is a four-legged word || The Lucky Ones

or some Christmas fluff: Ticked (all my boxes)

#jake kiskza x reader #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet fluff #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka fluff #jake kiszka #jake kiszka fic

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rory-multifandom-mess · 11 days

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My Thad Headcanons

Because I'm so totally autism about him, you have no IDEA

I took this from a fic I read, but Thad runs warm. By this I mean his cooling system likes to malfunction every now and then and he has to throw himself into a bunch of icepacks until it works again. If he overheats, he’ll shut down so it systems can cool down much like a phone would

He's self conscious about his sharp canines, but not in the sense that he’s constantly thinking about it. It’s more like a “if i look at myself in the mirror and see my smile, I’m going to remember they’re there and be like ‘oh. that’s not right.’” Because of his insecurity with his sharp teeth, he refuses to go to the dentist

The fact Uzi had a crush on him before meeting N absolutely flew over his head (he’s stupid)

He likes girls AND boys

Ever since the fight with J and V in the pilot, he coughs up oil on occasion. Basically; Worker Drones are stupid and don’t know anything about their own anatomy, so instead of trying to fix the internal damage, they just welded his wounds closed, so now he’s just perpetually internally bleeding

He heals pretty quickly and has a high pain tolerance (entirely because he’s a sports player, and also he heals quick because of the fact he runs warm)

Sometimes he’ll get nightmares about the attack with V and J and also when Solver yonk’d his ass in episode 2. These fucked him up for a little while after and he couldn’t sleep very well, but they’re not as big of a problem anymore

His room is usually surprisingly neat and full of trophies and medals and other various sports memorabilia

Gets really competitive during football matches, but has really good sportsmanship <3 like he’ll be screaming shit during the match and then he’ll lose and to the other team he’s like “good job guys you absolutely rocked it out there, but we’ll beat you next time i’m sure of it >:)” he likes a lil friendly competition

Thad and Lizzy are twins but he’s younger than her by like 2 minutes. She teases him for this. In retaliation, he teases her because he’s taller (by 1 inch)

Sometimes they get in trouble for ‘bullying” each other, but every time they do, Lizzy just says “Siblings are fair game!” and Thad nods

I think he says “no problemo” a lot. He also says other silly phrases like "Okie Dokie Artichokie" and calling things "Rad" and ironically saying" tubular." Lizzy says "This isn't the 80's" and then he responds with "Well the 80s were sick as heck dude so I don't care"

He's a morning person

Listens to highly energetic songs without paying attention to the lyrics, so he’ll listen to the most like. Innapropriate songs without even realizing it just because they’re bops

Gets dating advice from Ron (the drone at the door from episode 2 for those who forget the bg characters)

Yk how people will throw food like popcorn into the air and then catch it in their mouths? yeah he’s really good at that

Sometimes when he can’t sleep he goes out and plays basketball by himself. tires him out so he can eep

Has a nice singing voice, but he doesn’t think he does (i’m projecting)

He doesn’t like to swear, but sometimes jokingly says “I will swear word at you” to his friends

If he’s holding something, he’ll start idly just flip it in the air and catch it over and over. subconsciously too, he just does that

He also plays Soccer and Basketball

Sometimes when someone grabs him unexpectedly, he’ll flinch a little (thanks solver). This usually only happens if he’s been spacing out or doesn’t see the person who grabbed him at first

Chill until someone messes with Lizzy. Then he will fight. Though she’s one of the popular girls so it doesn’t happen often

Weak to flirting; he gets flustered easily. Yet he’s a total flirt when he likes someone and is comfortable enough around them

I like to think Thad gets hurt a lot because he’s a fucking football player and usually he doesn’t get it fixed because it’s normal, but Lizzy and/or Uzi will yell at him to get it fixed because it could fuck with the strength of his casing

One time Thad said “Bite me” to Uzi and she just looked at him like a smug cat while he had a moment

Sometimes he’ll try to hide in his collar when he’s flustered (it never works)

He, Lizzy, and Doll were a trio of best friends (Until Doll's Solver infection started getting really bad and began distancing herself from the other two)

#murder drones #murder drones thad #md thad #thad #thad headcanons #murder drones headcanons #md headanons #headcanons #uzi doorman #murder drones lizzy #murder drones doll #serial designation n #serial designation v #serial designation j #murder drones solver

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luvtak · 1 year

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perfect mix, lhc

❀ pairing bf!haechan x reader

❀ genre/tw pure fluff, oc and haechan are grossly in love, talk about having babies, but no pronouns are mentioned,

❀ w/c 1041

❀ a/n this is the first time ive been brave enough to post my actual writing lol so pls be kind! pls ignore any run on sentences lol<3 also i wrote this mainly for myself hahaha i just love him ☹️

“Do you think we’ll be together forever?”

The question is posed like it’s no big deal—like he could answer anything, and it wouldn’t matter, but Haechan knows you. He knows this is important. He knows just like when you tell him all you’re craving is cereal that your stomach hurts, or when you play Howl’s Moving Castle for the third time in a week that something is wrong. This is important and could greatly change how the night goes. While you’re laying in bed now with tiny smiles, one wrong answer could send you into another Studio Ghibli binge—the last one lasted two weeks where all you watched was Ponyo and Princess Mononoke and wouldn’t let him change it.

“Well, why wouldn’t we be?” He wants to play this right, doesn’t want to be too serious that you get overwhelmed, but he needs you to know he’s being honest. He’s loved you since he saw you. Some people think that’s a lie or an exaggeration, yet it’s true. Ever since he walked into that café and saw you reading in the corner, so excited about the plot of the story, he’s been whipped. He couldn’t believe it when you smiled at him too, or when you agreed to get coffee together next time. His feelings for you are so big that he can’t see them ever going away, and maybe that’s how everyone in love feels. Maybe people say this every day and then suddenly they don’t even know the person anymore, but Haechan feels like you’re the exception; he loves you too much for you not to be. So, when he says, “I mean I fall in love with you more and more everyday…” He means it, he wakes up every morning finding new reasons to fall in love with you, new experiences that initiate the whole sequence over again, so that he’s right where he started.

“Hyuck! I’m being serious!” Your smile is huge, spread across your whole face mirroring his. He likes you best this way, fully and wholly you. All your makeup has been washed away and your hair’s falling around you on the pillow. You’re in his clothes, a big T-shirt and his sweatpants acting as makeshift pajamas, and your body is pressed right against his. The bed is just too small not to be, so every inch of your skin is touching his—chest to chest, with your legs in between his. And God, you’re smile, he would embarrass himself all day just to see it—and trust, he really tries—he loves your smile just as much as you love his, which is a lot. “Do you really think we’ll be together forever, like we’ll get married and have babies and everything?”

“Course I do, I already got it all planned out, we just have to wait until everything calms down.” You know he means it; it’s written all over his face: all the plans he has for the two of you. He’s always been so sweet, never letting you think anything less of yourself than he does, never letting you be confused about his feelings or his intentions—he told you he loved you as soon as he knew you felt the same and has never let you question it. But it’s hard not to be insecure, not to be at odds with the truth. He’ s so perfect, and so dear to so many people, and it’s difficult to see his love for you over everyone’s love for him, but he always knows exactly how to help. “I mean we’ll have lots of babies, and they all look like you, so pretty.” He has a dumb smile on his face, so fond and happy to be here with you.

The little room is lit up from the candles next to you and its so hot underneath the blanket, but you can’t seem to move. The moment is too lovely, too giddy with his plans for the future. The two of you with a little family. He says all your children will look like you, but you wish they’ll be him—everything from his sparkly eyes to his heart-shaped lips; Perfect from their heads to their toes, and maybe they’ll be as silly and wonderful too, so you tell him. “They should be all you, love, so sweet and so funny, like little suns running around giving everyone a hard time.” His laugh breaks out at this, so smooth, so musical. Secretly you wish they’ll have this too: his easy humor. For you, it’s hard not to be serious, to let things be as they are and find joy in the little things. But Haechan is a wizard at this, letting go of control in hopes of more fun and better times. If you have children, you hope they gain this most of all.

“I don’t know if anyone else would like that, honey, I think they’d be annoyed.” The scoff you release at this is comical, but you can’t believe anyone would dislike him. Sure, he can be mischievous and his playfulness can lead to hurt feelings, but he always kisses it better. He never gives out anything he doesn’t think you’ll be able to take. At his core, he’s a kind boy, just wanting people to laugh with him.

“At you?! Who could be annoyed at you? You’re my favorite person in the whole world.” He knows you mean it. Anyone with eyes could see you meant it. And how could you not when you get to be loved by the warmest boy, so sincere in everything he does.

“You’re my favorite person too, baby, so maybe they’ll be the perfect mix of both—everything you love about me, and everything I love about you.” And how nice does that sound, little things walking around with so much love in them. Never going a day without hearing laughter or joy or the most earnest I love yous. Never second guessing their place in the world or how powerful they can be. It’ll be loud and chaotic, but lovely, and if they’re anything like him, they will be so loved. They’ll be him and they’ll be you, a perfect mix.

#i rlly hope this is good lol #haechan x reader #haechan fluff #donghyuck x reader #haechan #lee donghyuck #nct fluff #nct dream #nct x reader #nct dream x reader #haechan x y/n #hyuck fluff #✧ drabble

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spencerdaze · 8 months

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'Labyrinth' and how trauma makes us search for escapism

Welcome to 'Mikaela please log off' where i talk and overanalyze movies because i'm unemployed. In today's hell of a post, i'm going to talk about probably my favourite movie and one that has shaped me for my entire life: 1986 'Labyrinth', with musical numbers written and performed by none other than Miss David Bowie himself! SPOILERS AHEAD.

Now i've seen this movie more times than i've seen my own face in the mirror. It's a movie i enjoyed in my childhood and certainly one that has shaped me, with how the puppets have a certain uncanny feel to them almost and how crazy and whimsical the whole movie is. It trully is an amazing movie that can be enjoyed by children, but also by adults as well, with many of the movie's themes and meanings being hidden or something you find with experience or relate to later in life. Because the movie is a very clear reference to fairytales like Wizard of Oz and Alice in Wonderland, is no surprise to know there are many, many different readings that can be done to it. The firts reading i made of the movie when i rewatched it as an adult was that the movie was a very clear allegory for growing up and maturing, having to leave behind your childhood but also keeping in mind your inner child so that you don't lose yourself in the labyrinth that is life.

While the allegory reading is correct, and i think it's one of the meanings behind the movie and certainly the most obvious theme, it's definetly not the only one. One thing kept me wondering after watching the movie this time: Why is the phrase 'You have no power over me' so important? It's used in the beginning of the film, with Sarah forgetting this line in her book, and by the end, when she's facing Jareth, Sarah remembers the phrase by herself, clearly showing us as viewers the inner power Sarah has over her life. It's obvious this line is meant to represent Sarah's ambition and power, but why is it this phrase? Whi is it You have no power over me and not something else like 'My power lies within me' which could tie to the end of the film, with Bowie's Within you playing? Well, after rewatching it recently, i figured it out: Sarah isn't just talking to Jareth, she's talking to her stepmother.

At the beginning of the film Sarah seems to be, on the surface, a spoiled 15 year old girl who doesn't want to do her chores and just wants to play around, not even wanting to date, something her stepmom wants her to do. Her stepmother wants her to mature and grow, to find love, etc. And Sarah and her obviously do not get along a lot. Two important details appear when Sarah goes back to her room at the beginning after fighting with her stepmother over having to take care of her little brother: her stepmother talks to her dad, telling him 'She treats me like the wicked stepmother of a fairytale', and when Sarah goes to talk to her to her room, he doesn't even bother to open the door or make sure she's okay after the fight. To some people these details seem just normal parent behaviour, but it was very clear to me after the film that Sarah is being emotionally neglected by her father, and possibly made by her stepmother to grow up to fast. Sarah is fifteen and an older sister, and unfortunately is common for older sisters to act as parents for their siblings while also not being taken care of themselves. We see Sarah clinging to her childhood as an escapism from the fact she feels completely neglected, since her dad won't even open the door to talk to her.

When Sarah tells Toby her fairytale, it's a clear depiction of how she feels like: There once was a princess who was basically a slave to her stepmother and she was forced to take her of her baby brother. Sarah takes her rage out on her brother and sends him away with the goblins, and inmediatly regrets it. She's repeating patterns of abuse. She's realizing sending her brother away is the submitting him to the same neglectful behaviour she has struggled with. So she makes a deal with Jareth to get him back.

Jareth poses an interesting character in Sarah's healing journey from her trauma. He's in love with her, in very possessive, clingy way that makes him do anything she asks him too to try to manipulate her to love him, which doesn't work on her, because she's probably used to it. The fact Sarah has a lot of toys and costumes, which makes us feel like she's spoiled, while being simultaneously emotionally neglected, is a very common way a manipulator convinces the victim there's no reason to feel that way. So seeing as she's used to being gifted things, being given 'her dreams', instead of actual emotional support and availability, Sarah is basically inmune to Jareth's advances. This could be read as Sarah's first experience with love outside of her family life, which is also a common thing in the experiences of older sisters: they date men who aren't good for them, repeating the patterns they're used to and being once again emotionally hurt. By the end of the movie, after meeting new friends Sarah loves deeply and grows to appreciate, and by being shown there are people who do care about her and who do love her and respect her, Sarah is able to fight Jareth alone, because she might be phisically alone, but she knows her friends have her back always. The found family trope is used here even until the end when we think Sarah has grown and the people she met in the Labyrinth are gone, and Sarah tells Jareth he has no power over her because she finally has healed, and she knows she deserves better.

By the end, Sarah has matured and learned, not just about herself, but about love and relationships of all kinds. She gives Toby her plushie as a way of showing she doesn't need to desperately cling to her childhood anymore, because she now has people in her life who care about her for real, and also she tucks him in as a way to show she's going to break the cycle, and show him finally the emotional support she didn't get from her parents. She keeps many things in her room, but puts others away, and when her friends from the Labyrinth appear to tell her they'll be there if she needs them, they don't simply say this and go away, but she makes them stay. 'I need you', she tells them, because even if she's healed, her life might still be filled with the remnants of her trauma, and an escapism might be needed. But most importantly, 'I need you', because they're her friends, her found family, the people who have shown her what she deserves in her life.

The movie definetly shows us the many highs and lows in life, particularely in adolescence, and how the journey to being mature can be difficult. But these subtle themes of emotional neglect, trauma, and the struggles of a young girl forced to grow up a little too soon trully give the movie another layer of depth that maybe not everyone might see, but some of us, specially those of us who relate to these struggles, do see and aknowledge, reminding us that we're not alone and that we deserve better, for our trauma has no power over us.

#labyrinth #the labyrinth #jareth the goblin king #labyrinth 1986 #sarah williams #jareth #film #cinephile #movies #cinema #movie review #essay #in this essay i will #literacy #childhood trauma #maybe the labyrinth was childhood trauma all along

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soxcietyy · 20 days

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Temptation

Chapter 5

Your dad is tired of you bringing home these unworthy men. None of them being fit to take care of you or to be given the family business since you are the only daughter. He decides to find you someone fit to be your husband and receive help from the father of the church. That’s when you meet Yuta, though just because he goes to church doesn’t mean he’s much of a saint

Mafia, murder, violence, mentions of religion, (will contain other things in the next chapters)

You didn’t react quite fondly when you were given the news. Weddings usually took months, sometimes years to plan out and this man had given you a month? On top of that he decided to drag the day to an earlier date, that being this Saturday? He had told you this the morning after you guys had guest come over. He laid in bed shirtless as he had his hands intertwined behind his head. The words come out of his mouth like if it was nothing serious.

You looked at him shocked trying to process if this was a joke or not. There’s no way he could move the date to be so soon. You waited for him to laugh and say he was kidding but that never quite happened.

“So you just moved the date on your own accord? Why didn’t you come and talk to me about it?” you sit up.

“you would of said no, its fine sweetheart, I promie everything will be set. Including informing everyone about the new date. Just worry about lookin pretty on the wedding day.”

He didn’t break his promise, you did not need to lift a single finger ever since that day. Now you at infront of a vanity as you had multiple women working on your hair and makeup. You could almost not even recognize yourself in all this fancy stuff. Yuta had really orgized this in a few days? He even invited everyone you had planned to attend. He didn’t miss a single detail that you specified had told him you wanted.

Looking into the mirror you could see Yuta enter through the doors quietly. That was odd, shouldn’t he be getting ready? From the looks of it he was only half ready seeing that his button down was lazily tucked in and the colar was popped up. His bowtie was missing and his hair had yet to be tamed.

You pretended to have not noticed him yet and waited for him to make his first move. Hes an odd person when you think about it. He likes to walk into places I noticed. He’s always trying to find out information about anyone he reads on the news. He sleeps with a gun next to him. While you guys take strolls you notice how people move to the opposite side of the sidewalk from you guys. How people shake his arm or bow at him when they pass by. The fact that you’re not allowed in his study. The way he analyzes you before speaking.

Stepping insdie the ladies scurried right out the door one behind the other. You then feel something cold touch your neck as you’re half way to turning to look at him.

He slowly turned you back around so you could face yourself in the mirror. Averting your eyes to your neck you notice that the cold object that was touching you was a neckless. One that seemed to be made out of diamond’s and pearl’s.

“sorry I just wanted to give you a small gift to wear for today.” He said as he clipped it in the back. “you look stunning.” He kisses your neck before taking a step back.

You looked at him with thankful smile in the mirror.

“I also wanted to tell you something, well I don’t know if I should say something like this right before our wedding.” He laughs as he rubs the back of his neck.

“well say it now or forever hold your silence.” You joked

“well I guess your right about that huh?” He get more comfortable with you and approaches you again. Resting his hand on your shoulder. “If anyone objects during the ceremony, I will decapitate them and send each of their body parts back to their parents house every time we celebrate our yearly anniversary.” Yuta whispers as he grabs a lose strand of your hair, he slowly brought it up to his face and inhaled it. You look at him in the mirror not knowing how to respond to something like that. “Haha…I was obviously kidding, anyways ill see you at the alter, cant wait to be able to call you mine.” He said before walking out the door.

Everything was happening too fast. Was it normal to feel this way? Was it normal to feel sick? For your plams to be sweaty? Was it normal to see so many men in suites standing with you by the door? Was it normal for them to have guns in their hands? People standing there watching you as if you were going to run away. Seeing medical staff standing on the side of the building.

In the blink of an eye you watch as the double doors open in front of you. The music starts playing as you stood there frozen. This was really happening right now. You were going to get married to a guy you met not too long ago. An average girl would be thrilled about having such an eventful thing but your heart dropped. Looking inside at the crowed that turned to face you made you want to walk away. On the left side was your family and everybody else you’ve invited. On the right was Yutas side, they all consisted of men and a few females but what they all had in common was big guns that rested in their hands. You stood there frozen not wanting to move an inch but someone nudged your shoulder.

Turning around you see your dad looking at you with an expressionless face. He grabs your hand and puts it around his arm. The wedding music started to get louder once you were made to walk down. All eyes were on you, you could feel how they followed along. You could hear whispers and laughs. You and your dad didn’t exchange any looks in the process of him walking you down. Finally reaching the alter you dad lets go of you and takes his leave.

Yuta stood infront of you wearing his nice black suite. Not only that but a gun in his hand that he kept playing with the safety lock. He looks up at you with such a kind smile. One you were doubting was real at this point.

Father began talking after everyone settled down. He pulled out his book and started speaking. Going on and on about marriage. You looked down at Yuta’s watch, watching the seconds go by slowly. For some odd reason it felt like you were finally self aware of everything. This wasn’t normal at all..

As the father went on and on about what marriage was, you could feel the palm’s of your hand’s begin to sweat. You know that gut feeling you get when something bad it going to happen? Well yea you were feeling it and you felt like puking. You must of looked like you were having a hard time because Yuta gave you a supportive smile.

Finally reaching the end you felt relieved after what seemed like hours.

"If anyone objects to the marriage, speak now or forever hold your peace." The priest says taking a pause.

Yuta turned around toward the people with a smile plastered on his face. Hand reaching to grab the pistol that he neatly shoved into his waist band a while ago. Clearly waiting to see if anyone dared to object. Everyone remained seated with a nervous look.

"Y/n do you take Yuta to be your husband, to love him, comfort him, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, be faithful to him, as long as you both shall live?"

"I do"

"Yuta, do you take y/n to be your wife, to love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, be faithful to her, as long as you both shall live?"

"I do"

The both of you exchange wedding rings and bands as you state your vows.

"Yuta and y/n , having witnessed your marriage vows in the eyes of God and before all who are assembled here, by the authority invested in me by the State of New York, I pronounce you husband and wife.

You may kiss the bride!"

Loud music starts playing as Yuta pulled you right in kissing you so passionately. His hands having a firm grip on your waist almost as if he thought you would run away. His lips devouring yours instantly making you feel dazed. Letting go he grabbed your hand and walked you down the aisle. People clapped and cheered as you guys walked. Reaching the end you look at Yuta with a happy look.

"Did I miss it?!" You hear someone yell.

Turning to the left you see your best friend running in. He was drenched in sweat from running in a tuxedo. You were shocked to see him like this and to know he missed everything. He was a man your size that you’ve been friends with since childhood. He had such fair skin, blond hair, and his eyes glowed green when he was in the sun.

"Fuck, don’t tell me I’m late?! I was going to object! PLEASE PRIEST!" He begged father who was still standing at the alter.

Before he could say anything else you watch in horror as Yuta pulls a gun out and shoots him three times in the chest. You let out a scream unknowingly as you watch him drop onto the floor.

"What a waste of oxygen." Yuta rolls his eyes. "At least your already dressed nicely for your funeral." Yuta snickers as he walks over you best friends lifeless body.

He tugs your arm but you don’t seem to move. You were in such a state of shock that your body no longer seemed to function. Letting out a heavy sigh he picks you up so easily and carries you to the car in bridal style. Placing you in the front he leaves a kiss on your forehead.

"You killed him…" you look at his with watery eyes.

"Oh, did you want him that bad? Should I of shot myself instead so you could lived happily? Because it seems like you love that man more than me." Yuta grabs his gun and faces it towards him.

"No!" You yell, "that’s not what im trying to say! I just… why did you have to kill him?" You say

"Because his death wouldn’t of been so nice if my men did it." Yuta slams your door.

_________

Yuta was annoyed, not only because he was doing all of this but because someone was actually going to object. That would mean that they would have to restart the ceremony but since the father had a busy schedule then it would mean that he would have to plan another wedding. He just hated the thought of his plans being ruined.

Thankfull Yuta had made his men do research on each person on your guest list. When he found out that you had a guy best friend he took it upon himself to hand deliver the invitation.

The guy lived in the slums making Yuta doubt that he would object a wedding. From the looks of it he wouldn’t be able to afford a wedding. Nor would he be able to afford your life style. Yuta also didn’t think you would lower status to be with one from the slums. Then again you were a idiot.

He wait’s by the front after he nocks at the old wooden door. It took a few second for the malnourished twink to answer the door. Yuta couldn’t help but look at him up and down in a judgmental way.

"Im here to invite you to y/n’s wedding, she wants you to be there." Yuta says.

The man look taken aback almost as if Yuta just told him that’s his parents died.

"She’s getting married?!" He says

His reaction didn’t seem good. He definitely had to do something about this.

"Yes, to me. Also there was an error during the printing stage. It’s supposed to start at twelve not end at twelve. Have a good day." Yuta says as he turned around.

Obviously if he did have bad intentions then Yuta gave him the wrong time. If he didn’t then oh well.

The second that man even mentioned stopping the wedding in front of Yuta he decided he would kill him on the spot. He didn’t have time for a boy like him to fill your gullible head with ideas.

Yuta and the group on men that followed right behind him entered an outside venue he had rented out. He made you pull yourself together in the car on your own. You were a mess on way here, sobbing, whining and you would punch him occasionally. He let you hit him to take your anger out on him but he made sure you wouldn’t hit him face. You eyes were in so much pain and you sight was blurry. So blurry you couldn’t enjoy the sight of the event. You had designed and helped decorate this area.

He could appreciate creativity and good work but what he couldn’t was the attitude you were currently giving him. You ignored him everytime he would try to talk to you. He left you alone here and there but would come back for another attempt.

"Y/n the guest are wondering where my wife is." Yuta says annoyed. He opens your car door and cups your face. "Look, I’m sorry sweetheart but I had to. Did you know that man was working with the people that are harassing your dad?" Yuta makes you look at him.

You stay silent.

Letting a sigh out he pulls you out the car and fixes your dress. He whips your tears away and helps you fix your makeup. When he was done he turned around and you notice a tall man behind him.

"Y/n this is my cousin Gojo." Yuta present’s someone to you.

Your breath hitches as you see the pin he was wearing on his collar. It’s exactly like the one Yuta has at home. Does this mean he is the CEO of the Gojo franchises? The man was pretty tall and had such interesting features. This was the first man Yuta had even bothered to call family.

"Hello," you say trying to not cry anymore from what happened not too long ago.

"Aw, where you crying pretty girl? Did Yuta do something mean to you?" He says getting closer.

You look up at Yuta who rolled his eyes. You end up shaking your head not wanting to make the situation worst.

"No need to lie, I know him like the back of my hand. Now tell me what did he do so I can scold him." Gojo looks back at Yuta.

You hesitated but when were you going to get the chance to rant about such thing. "Well…he killed my best friend in front of me after the ceremony!" You squeeze your dress from the sides hoping it would help contain yourself.

Gojos eyes widen, obviously he had that you were crying over a small issue. "Yuta at least do it the day after the wedding! It this woman’s special day! You just ruined it for her, poor girl." He mumbled as he tried to comfort you with a hug.

"I’ll take that into consideration for next time her friends try to get into our relationship." Yuta pulls Gojo away from you. He dragged him to a quiet corner of the party and pushed him against the tree.

"What the hell are you doing? She’s going to be gone by tomorrow if you keep this up." Gojo puts his arm on Yutas shoulder

"She’s not going anywhere," Yuta shrugs his hand off and walks away.

"The purpose of this was for you to fall in love! Not for you to just have your god damn offspring." Gojo says.

Walking to the opposite side of the party he pulls out a Cigar. He felt like he needed to release all this pent up frustration. He felt like it wouldn’t end until this party was over. If it were up to him he wouldn’t of done this but you were begging him for a after party. Patting his pockets he realizes that he didn’t put a lighter on him. Letting out a loud sigh he throws his head back.

"I was surprised you invited me." He hears a man speak.

Great, just what he needed, another person to talk to. Yuta looks towards there direction and sees it Fushiguro, the head of the Zenin clan. He had decided to invite him to the after party for his own benefit. If he was able to befriend him then business would be booming for Yuta. He gives Fushiguro a pleasing smile and extends his arm out for a handshake. The man glady took it with a firm grip.

"We’re in the same industry, thought it would be nice to make friends. I’m not really part of the Zenin and Gojo drama as you can in the name." Yuta says pointing at the welcome sigh that showed his last name on it.

"Yea, Iv been trying to fix this mess ever since I became the head. Glad you invited me, hopefully we can make a better future for our families." Fushiguro smiles.

Pulling a lighter from his pocket he flick it on and puts it under Yutas gaze. Yuta immediately put’s the tip of his cigar over the flame and watched as it started to burn. “Yea, let’s do that."

The party went smoothly as it was planned. No other interferences happened thank god. You dragged him around the party forcing him to do idiotic wedding traditions. You guys took an annoying amount of photos and ate too many sweets. To anyone this would be a dream, to Yuta it was a nightmare. All he needed to do was go home and sleep.

"Would it kill you to smile?" Inumaki says as he passes Yuta a glass of wine.

Accepting the kind gesture he brings it up to his nose and takes a whiff of it. Once he smells the exact brand he pours it onto the grass. You would never catch him drinking such wine. It was unfortunate his wife belonged to the family that founded this company.

"You know it, how was your vacation?" Yuta grumbles.

If it were up to Yuta then Inumaki wouldn’t have taken a last minute trip. That’s why the sucker straight up left without informing him. He had to find out from his men that Inumaki had just boarded a flight.

"Splendid, can’t believe you’re married. I mean common you with a female? She seems feisty too." Inumaki smirks.

They were both currently watching as you were trying to stop your uncle from taking another shot.

"You’ve seen me deal with the biggest mob bosses in the states. You’ve seen me kill people with my bare hands. Iv taken two gunshot and still managed to survive and your worried that a girl like her will ruin me? I don’t know whether to feel insulted or not." Yuta looks at him amused.

"I know you, she’s going to humble you well. Ah speaking of look she’s coming here with a piece of cake." Inumaki says.

You show up infront of Yuta and hover a spoon full of cake near his mouth. As he opens his mouth to decline you decide to shove the spoon deep into his mouth. You hear him gag and forcibly swallowed the cake.

"Why you little b-"

"Mrs. Okkotsu! So nice to meet you, my name is Inumaki. We’ll be seeing each other more often than you think." Inumaki cuts in before his boss could blow up on you.

If he knew Yuta correctly then he knew he had an image to keep up. That is until you guys get home, then he’s probably going to drop the mister nice act. Inumaki would say that he wasn’t a horrible person at all, he was just cold. He likes when things go his way, he likes silence, and order.

After the party Yuta dragged his feet inside. You made him carry each gift. While you didn’t help at all, because how could he possibly make you lift up anything with those delicate hands. Dropping everything onto the floor he grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you into the room with him.

He had made sure to tell his men to be back in duty by tonight. They should be guarding right at the entrance doors of his house by now. This letting him be able to let his guard down and to complete his duty as your husband for tonight. Shutting the door behind him he throws you on the bed.

He could see as your innocent eyes widen as they realize what’s about to happen.

#yuta okkotsu #yuta okkotsu x you #yuta okkotsu x reader #jjk second years #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x y/n #yuta okkotsu x y/n #yuuta x you #yuuta x y/n #jjk yuuta #yuuta okkotsu #okkotsu yuuta x reader #okkotsu yuuta #yuuta x reader #yuta jjk #yuta x y/n #yuta x reader #jjk yuta

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psychedelic-ink · 1 year

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𝐀𝐫𝐭 𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐨 - 𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐝

pairing: pre outbreak!joel miller x f!reader, one sided tommy miller x f!reader

series summary: After your grandfather’s passing, you find yourself moving into his home in Texas. You meet the Millers; Tommy, his older brother Joel and his daughter Sarah. With time, you and Tommy become close friends and Sarah visits you often. But Joel…Joel keeps his distance. The reason for this is due to one crucial fact you don’t know but he does; Tommy has a crush on you. Which means you’re off limits no matter what. But as your own feelings for Joel grow, things start to get more and more complicated.

word count: 2k

chapter summary: if you were wondering how Joel took his spicy picture for Asha, this is how.

warnings: male masturbation, use of a mirror, nipple play, spitting, very explicit, a tad bit of joel putting himself down, you're not there physically but you're definitely there in spirit, brief thoughts of rimming, lil bit of self ass play

a/n: this is a little gift for all of you guys who love SIB, and it's also an apology because it looks like I won't be able to get the new chapter out this week but believe me, I'm working on it 🧡 This takes place between chapters four and five, if you don't mind getting spoiled feel free to read. and yes those are pedro's hands in the moodboard jfc look at those veins

“Do you like it?”

Joel looks down, a bit shocked, but not unpleasantly. Between his fingers, he holds a photo of Asha, naked as the day she was born. Her lean hand covers her sex, leaving it to his imagination and her breasts were glistening—he presumes she used an ointment of some kind— and her nipples were hard, indicating that she played with herself before taking the picture.

His cock twitches and he swallows thickly around the knot forming in his throat.

“ ‘Course I do,” he groans, shifting on the bed. “And you want me to take one too?”

“If you don’t mind.”

“I don’t but I ain’t as pretty as you are.”

With a grin, Asha traces a hand above the expense of his bare chest, the tips of her fingers dipping over his sternum.

“You’re prettier than you think.”

Joel stares at the window, his jaw tight and fingers tense around the small shot glass that he holds. A breeze comes through the window and rustles the curtains. He can hear crickets. With a deep sigh, he throws back his head and swallows the amber fluid. It burns as it goes down.

He closes the windows, then the curtains. He’s hoping the liquid courage would take its effect soon. The bottom of the glass hits the bedside table and he falls to the bed, staring begrudgingly at the camera. He decided to place the tripod right in front of the mirror, which now he realizes wasn’t a good idea. He’s not that thrilled in seeing himself being so unsure. He drags his palm down his face, eyes falling to the drawer where Asha’s picture lays. He’s still not sure why she asked for it—well, he knows why, he just doesn’t understand why him.

Joel’s aware he’s not the worst looking out here, he’s definitely caught your gaze once or twice lingering on him whenever he’s out fixing the truck. And Asha surely seems to be infatuated with him. But that had only happened now. Not when he was young. Not when he was attending high school and working full shifts to take care of Tommy. And when people did approach him, it was mostly to get closer to The Tommy Miller—his younger brother was always the one with the charm and charisma.

Suddenly Joel’s heart feels lighter, hints of joy warming his chest. Asha wants that picture. She wants to see him, wants to keep him close.

Licking his lips, he walks up to the camera and adjusts the timer. His mind wanders to the moment he shared with you at the bar. He’d acted impulsively, kissing your cheek like that. The only thing granting him relief was the fact that it seemed nothing more but a friendly gesture from the outside.

It sure as hell hadn’t felt friendly from the inside. It felt more than that.

Before pressing the shutter, he sits back down on the bed. The old furniture creaking with protest. He peels off his shirt, throws it to the floor. He thinks about what kind of pose to do, and about how naked he should be. He’s not that comfortable showing his dick. He’s not that comfortable showing his face either—so what the hell is he supposed to do?

He cups his cock and rubs his palm through the denim. An immediate burst of heat rolls up his spine, his dick twitching with need. He breathes out a soft exhale and repeats the movement. Grinding his palm against his growing erection.

Oh, that definitely feels nice.

A smile tugs at his lips and his pulse quickens. Without much thought, he swipes his thumb over a nipple. A hiss elevates from the back of his throat, his hips stuttering into the air. With a sudden desperation, he unbuckles his belt and cheats his hand down his jeans. He’s rough with himself. Grabbing his cock and tugging at the head until he’s hard and dripping. Joel sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, the pain also adding to the heat growing between his legs.

“This should be good,” he murmurs, walking back up to the camera. He clicks the shuffle and stumbles back, he tries to strike something similar to a pose. He stretches a bit, sucks in his stomach, and decides to leave his hand lingering down his pants.

His chest heaves, but he’s excited when he hears the click. He’s genuinely surprised at how aroused he is, thick drops of precum heavy over his knuckles.

Joel had never considered himself to be a kinky person. As far as he knew, he was into the same things as most guys his age. But maybe he had more going on in this thick noggin of his than he thought.

Joel definitely doesn’t mind the camera now.

The picture pops out and he yanks it away from the device. He wags it in the air a bit, a form of a body slowly appearing on glossy paper. He takes a good look at himself. Half of his face is out of frame, which pleases him. There’s a slight blur to the background that he kinda likes. Thanks to the way his hand is hidden underneath the front of his jeans, his forearm looks quite nice and strong.

With a pleased smile, he places it between the pages of a magazine. Then he allows himself to fall back to the bed, his legs hanging off the side. Joel grunts as he kicks off his jeans, not wanting to feel restricted anymore. It’s not often he’s alone in the house. He plans on taking advantage of it.

He pulls a pillow down to where his head is, getting comfortable, he glances at himself through the mirror. A flush darkens his cheeks. He never watched himself before. Never saw the faces he makes. Some part of him wants to ignore the sudden interest and just take care of his…situation, but the other part of him wants to experiment. It almost feels like someone is watching him.

He remembers seeing a mirror in your house. Have you ever indulged in this way? Get naked in front of the mirror and fuck yourself with a toy that wouldn’t be nearly as satisfying as his cock could be?

I’m fucking losing it, he thinks. But he can’t stop thinking about it now.

Joel's hand moves down to his cock, his fingertips brushing over the sensitive head. His breathing becomes shallow as he starts to stroke himself, the soft moans escaping his lips filling the quiet room. He closes his eyes and imagines you there with him, your fingers tracing along his body, your lips pressing against his skin.

His fingers trail down his chest, gliding over the curves of his nipples, each touch sends a shiver, his tighs going taut and stiff. His eyes flicker to the mirror, he catches a glimpse of himself - naked, a flush of pink creeping up from his chest to his neck.

He hesitates, wondering what he's doing, and why he's doing it. But then he remembers you, the way you looked at him at the bar, the feeling of your skin under his fingertips, the way you leaned in close when you spoke. Your scent; a sharp inhale of blooming flowers mixed with the suffocating scent of the paint that you use. You’re a ghostly presence, something that’s always with him, but not in the way that he wants.

Joel squeezes his cock and moves up his hand, swiping the head with the flat of his palm. He wants everything to be wet, messy, and tight. With a sudden impulse, he pushes his upper body off the bed and goes to spit on his cock. A soft tremor burrows in his stomach. A rather indulgent moan coming alive in the back of his throat.

Pursing his lips, he spits again, the wetness instantly being spread out with his hand. He watches the way his cock glistens through the mirror. Joel wants to believe it’s your slick instead, making him warm and wet. You’d be so eager to take him, so needy for him to fuck you. His teeth sink into the inside of his cheek. He’d make you beg a bit for it first. Joel would want to hear your voice getting high and squeaky, but he wouldn’t let the game go on for too long. He doesn’t want you to think that he’s not appreciative of you and your perfect pussy.

His strokes speed up, wet sounds getting louder. Joel allows his imagination to run wild. A string of sultry images flashes in his mind.

You, on your knees, struggling to take his cock down your throat.

You, bent over, asscheeks spread, begging him to fill you up.

You, asking for him to fuck you harder, faster.

And him, eager to follow every command.

Fuck, and you’d look so good too. Moaning his name, soaking his cock and fingers. He licks his lips, imagining how you would taste like. Something sweet, he bets, sweet and maybe a bit bitter. Just like you.

Jerking himself, a visceral whine crawls out of his throat. His eyes flutter shut for a brief moment and he swears he can feel you. Your weight, your heat—all of it crashing down on him and bringing him near the peak. He loosens his grip, traces the throbbing vein that curls around his cock with the blunt of his nail. With a shallow breath, he slips his fingers lower.

Joel’s mouth floods when he cups his balls, rolling them in his palm, he gives them a gentle tug. The coil in his stomach tightens, a tremble overwhelming him. With his tongue between his lips, his fingers brush the skin right underneath. His eyes snap wide open, liquid, molten, lava-like pleasure boils his veins—he gasps and his hips stutter into the air, his dick painfully hard, drips over his stomach.

His hand dips further down his legs. Very gently, Joel circles the puckered hole with the pad of his middle finger but doesn’t dare to go further. He never has. This is as far as he’s gone, discovering that the little tease was enough to get him riled up at a young age. He imagines your tongue teasing over the hole instead of his finger.

“Fuck.”

His own voice sounds estranged to him. It sounds so deep, and raspy. Like he’s been sick for days. A shudder overwhelms him when he wraps his calloused fingers around his cock once more. He’s so fucking close. His breathing comes in short, shallow pants, the head of his cock a dark red. He fuck himself into his fist harder, faster, tightens the gap, thinking that it’s you.

His eyes move back to the mirror, his other hand teasing at his nipples, pulling and twisting them until he moans out loud. The sight of himself, of his own arousal, is a heady aphrodisiac. He’s wrecked. It never felt this good before. There’s a buzz in his veins, an itch that can’t be scratched. His cock is drooling all over himself. His breath catches in his throat—He’s about to—shitshitshit—

Joel fixes his gaze on his reflection; he looks so out of it, lips swollen and parted, hair a mess and eyes glazed over. Fuck, he’s starting to understand now what Asha meant by calling him pretty.

A long whine leaves his lips as the first string of pearly white cum splashes over his stomach. It’s followed by another one, and then another. His eyes roll back into his skull. He feels it on his chest, stomach, knuckles….a growl rattles in his chest. Pleasure rakes his body from his toes to his head. He strokes himself harder, loosening and tightening his grip around his cock to mimic the feel of your fluttering cunt might be. Joel’s eyes flutter closed, heavy pants leaving his lips. He feels dizzy, disoriented.

When he opens his eyes again, he smooths his hand over his stomach, spreading the stickiness all over his sweaty skin. He cheats another glance at the mirror.

God, he wishes you were here to clean him up.

I hope you guys enjoyed this little interlude ♡ I do realize that some parts of this might be a bit out of character for Joel but I just love thinking of him as someone who always wanted to experiment more but just never had a chance to do so, a bit of a guilty pleasure of mine. He's just looking for that person he can trust to have some fun with 🤭 I also think of him being a bit self coincidence which we will be seeing more of in the future.

Wishing everyone an amazing weekend, new chapter will be coming soon!

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