#ANYWAYS he tries so hard to be The Most Normal Man In The World

[knightwhoisni]

a little bit obsessed with my dark urge tbh

[irndad]

hii dollface, would u write smtg abt hotch being jealous?

like he's trying to hide it from making the team notices when he saw some officer flirting with r?

no pressure in writing, lovey. change it however u want or ignore it if u dont feel like writing it (i completely understands u 🤍)

my love this has lived in my brain so relentlessly <3 i hope you love it!!!! thank you for requesting!! wc: 1.7k

It is incredibly easy to like her.

She’s charismatic in a way that’s almost universally appealing, and he’s memorized the shape of her wide grin. She smiles with her whole face, and Aaron hasn’t really spent too much time trying to make people smile. He’s had success in some ways, but when she smiles at him there’s something in his chest that burns in achingly lovely way. 

At first, he had assumed her kindness was a way to win him over. In her first week, she had noticed there was a rip in his tie (which he’s not sure how could even happen) and she’d whipped out a pocket sewing kit, repairing it. 

He tries not to think about the fact that she’s beautiful. She is, though, in spirit and in appearance. He’s an expert in controlled presentation, but to some extent she must know that’s he’s fond of her. 

When they’d first met (which he can still picture in his minds’ eye- her oversized sweater tucked into her tailored pants, the purple lipstick adorning her beautiful smile) he’d tried to keep his distance. It’s easy to romanticize her, and being her friend felt a little impossible when seeing her as more felt so inevitable.

This plan did not go well, and Aaron had officially tossed it when one day, the babysitter for Jack fell through when he was halfway around the world. She’d picked him up from school and tended to him, and Aaron had come home to a blanket fort on his kitchen floor, and a happy little boy who wanted her to come over every day. 

So it's a little hard to ignore how much he adores her. 

She doesn’t normally want to come out to the scene and they usually don’t require it, but they’re going out to a place she spent most of her twenties, and she knew people in the local PD, so Aaron had asked her to come. 

She’d done so without complaint, although he knows she doesn’t sleep well on the jet. No one knows where the nicer pillows and blankets came from, and Aaron would prefer it that way. 

Anyway. 

The bullpen of this department is chaotic and a certain caretaking is living at the edge of Aaron’s consciousness, a protective desire to keep her from the loudness and violence that she’s typically protected from. 

He’s still thinking this, when he hears her voice over the chaotic hum of the department. 

“Oh my god, Logan!”

Her voice is joyful, and when Aaron turns to see who she’s looking at, it’s an agent. He can tell that he’s not a police officer for many reasons- the fact that he’s got a long, shaggy haircut and a 5 o clock shadow and a leather jacket on his shoulders. The local police would be too strict, and he must be some kind of different authority to be allowed to be here.

He hears the stranger call her name back, and they hug. 

It’s a quick thing, but imbued with deep fondness. Aaron’s not sure he’s ever hugged her for more than a second- just a congratulations when his commendation came in. She’d smelled like roses. 

Now, she’s hugging Logan. 

“Hotch,” she says, a smile still in her voice, “This is Logan! We went to graduate school together. He’s brilliant, I can’t believe he’s down here.”

Her voice is seeped in admiration, and Aaron feels an ugly amount of what can only be described as jealousy. 

“Great to meet you. You’re the unit chief, yeah?”

“SSA Aaron Hotchner,” he offers the man a curt nod, “Have you met the team?”

He goes through the motions of introducing him to the team- he greets Reid with a warm smile and tells him that he’s read his papers. Logan compliments Emily’s shirt, and Morgan’s watch. 

He’s incredibly charismatic.

Is Aaron charismatic? He doesn’t think so. His team, who probably adore him as much as anyone could, still note that he can be harsh, prickly. He never smiles, he knows. He lacks expressiveness. Logan is all fluid movement and easy conversation, and when he takes the jacket off, Aaron sees a great deal of tattoos on his forearm, his sweater sleeves slid up. 

He’d smile for her. 

What should be a good thing, but hurts- Logan is an excellent consultant profiler. He’s thoughtful and helpful and she has an easy rapport with him. Aaron- he’s so bad at talking to women. 

She makes Aaron feel like he’s good at it though. When they drive together, the conversation is easy and feels nice. It’s like sunbathing, basking in the light of her attention and intention. 

With the help of the man that Aaron has decided he hates, the case is finished up quickly. 

He can’t shake the thought they’ve probably dated. It’s not his business- this crush, although this word feels inadequate for the intensity of the way she makes him feel. It’s a private thing he’s never going to act on- he’s older and her superior, and besides- 9 stab wounds and a lifetime worth of issues is a million times less appealing than someone like Logan. Young, exuberant probably not too afraid to ask for what he wants.

“Drink tonight?” Logan asks the team, and a chorus of yes’s and please’s echo through the emptying bullpen. 

“Raincheck,” she says to Logan, “I’ll see you next time I’m in town, yeah?” She beams at him, hugging him in a quick-but-too-long-for-Aaron’s-taste motion, and the string in Aaron’s chest that feels like it’s been pulled all week threatens to pull him under.

After everyone files out, she offers to help him fill out paperwork in his office. It’s just like her, so kind and sweet. Spending her free time filling out reports to make his workload go easier.

About a half hour of amenable silence passes, before Aaron chooses to speak.

“So, you and Logan.”

“He’s great, right?”

Regrettably, Aaron agrees.

“He seems very kind.”

“Yeah, he and his fiancee are really fun. They travel all over, kite-board and do tons of adventure stuff, he’s pretty awesome.”

A moment passes.

It’s like a balloon losing air, the feeling of relief taking the place of panic.

“I thought you two were romantically involved.” He doesn’t know how to verbalize things casually. If he lets it up, he might do something dangerous like tell her that he wants to be someone who romances her, wants to be the person who kisses her after dates and holds an umbrella over her head when she’s caught in the rain. He wants to be what she comes homes to, and it’s a confession living in the back of his throat, threatening to escape at every moment. 

She sucks in a harsh breath, and he wonders if it’s a misstep to have told her- it’s not a confession, really. It sounds like one though- why would he care? What makes it his business?

“Not that that’s relevant to me,” he stammers, “You’re free to engage with whoever you’d like-“

“I know, Hotch.” She doesn’t grace him with his first name, but her voice is fond and warm, her doe eyes meeting his. He likes it, he decides. 

“I’m not seeing him,” she continues, her body shifting to face him, “I think he’s a little…casual for me.”

He thinks of Logan’s leather jacket and unshaven face, rugged appearance and compares it to how he presents himself- clean cut and sharp lines, his suits tailed to fit him like a glove. 

“You prefer something a little more…dignified?” He hears himself say with more confidence then he feels- her implication is clear, but he wonders if he’s mishearing it. 

She tips her head back and he hears her lovely laugh ring through the air like something sacred, and he waits to hear her response. 

“I don’t know, I just know that I’ve been liking this guy for a while,” she muses, looking down at her fingernails, “But he hasn’t seemed to pick up on any of my hints.”

On one of his braver days, he’d told her that he liked that purple lipstick. He hasn’t seen her without it since. She’d always been so kind to everyone that it was hard to notice when her treatment towards him was special, but he thinks it might be. How quick she offers to help with Jack- gives away a Saturday evening to spend with him, even though she sees too much of his face at work.

Her friend from grad school offered to get drinks, and she’s here, telling him what she looks for in a guy.

He tries to be logical about the whole thing, but it’s a bit hard- she’s funny and warm and Aaron loves being around her- loves her company enough to maybe ask for more of it. 

“If this ‘guy’ did like you,” he murmurs, intentionally not meeting her gaze, the precision of which is boring a hole into the side of his head, “How would he go about that?”

He’s not sure what the point of being coy is now, but he can’t seem to stop. He does look down to her and meet her eyes. 

“I think I’d probably corner him,” she says breathlessly. They’re quite close together, now. He wonders if she likes his aftershave. She tugs a hundred through her hair, a nervous but incredibly attractive gesture, “Y’know, if everyone we worked with went to get drinks, and it was just us. If he was amenable to that.”

“If he was amenable to that.”

A rush of emotion licks up his spine- it’s fun, flirting with her. The creep of warmth on her cheek, how her fingers are brushing hers. 

“I think he might be.”

Purple lipstick, rose perfume mixing with the scent of expensive aftershave- he thinks he might be able to kiss her, now. He’s never been good at knowing when to take the jump, but this is something he can do. He can let her know that he wants it. 

She reads him well enough, it turns out, and she kisses him. It’s a surprise and he is so rusty at this and yet- his hand stand on the small of her back, pulling her in and he can feel her lovely smile against him. She’s warm and joyful and she’d kissed him, and all he could do was lean in-

“I think he might be too.” She says, significantly less color on her lips, and more on his, he imagines.

She doesn’t have to wonder, though. When Aaron kisses her again, he decides- he will make her incredibly certain of his affections. 

[pressureplus]

this blog is the goat i love it sm :) totally get if it's too much but i'd love drunk seb headcanons. thnx ❤️

LOVELY, YOUVE GOT THE BIGGEST BRAIN ANON /POS

♡Drunk Sebastian Solace Headcannons♡

Warnings: Intoxication, Warnings to not Fuck The Fish™️, Brief Sexual Content

◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟

First off, getting him drunk isn’t gonna be easy

His body is significantly bigger so it’ll take a lot more alcohol than a normal human person

That and he could already hold his drinks well, so it’ll take some work to get that man actually drunk instead of just buzzed

Don’t try to match him drink for drink, you WILL die of alcohol poisoning unless you’re an alcoholic

Which wouldn’t matter he’d still out drink you based on weight/size alone, so I guess try not to die is the only goal?

Doesn’t feel comfortable drunk around most people unless you’re BOTH that kind of tipsy or he’s already close with you

When you do actually get him drunk?

The flirtiest, giggliest drunk you’re ever met

Sebastian will laugh at literally everything, it makes him so much easier to talk with

The world is sunshine and rainbows as long as he’s really fucked up

Honestly? He deserves it. He’ll smile at you so softly and actually fully listen when you talk. Maybe he’s not the brightest, or most talkative, but he has weirdly good advice

Though he is super giggly and playful, he does flirt

Usually they’re kind of fun. They’re not meant to really invoke any real feelings

“Hey there hot stuff, you lookin for a chair?” As he pats a portion of his tail.

He WILL forget that he flirted with you later, so don’t try to corner him on it as some kind of gotcha moment. He won’t believe you.

It also doesn’t reflect his feelings entirely…well unless he really likes you.

He’ll get a bit tongue tied and may even let it slip that he thinks you’re just gorgeous

His flirting gets very personal if he has a thing for you, but it’s less frequent because the man is too busy squirming from just sitting with you

Think flustered school girl energy

If he likes you he will do ANYTHING you ask

Please don’t try to fuck the fish, he isn’t very smart and he’s not gonna be able to top you

You’d have to do 100% of the work, and he wouldn’t remember most of it tomorrow anyway

He will probably just fall into a fit of giggles at the offer, honestly, so the likelihood of it happening is like nothing

So unless you’re both so drunk you’re not thinking straight? Don’t do it. Dont even try it.

If he doesn’t like you in that way? You might actually die for attempting it. It’s not worth it.

Speaking of not worth it, that man loses so much motor function. His tail is apparently weirdly hard to control all the way

Will prefer to just sit with you and not go anywhere as he will not have the control necessary to do damn near anything

He tried only once to go do something while really fucked up

Stupid fishman got stuck in a vent for a few hours

Worst experience of his life, (drunk fishman claims) he would never ever do it again

He’s the kind of man that sings when he’s drunk too, but only if you do it with him. He mimics like a parrot.

Or if you manage to play songs with him somehow, he might sing them if he vibes with or knows the song

Get a man to sing your favorite songs horribly at an octave that outright hurts

Idk something like California Girls by Katy Perry? Have fun with it

He can’t exactly dance really well but he might do a fun little shimmy if the music pleases him enough

Have fun doing your shared little dances, drinking to forget (always remembering), and laughing about nonsense

I’m sure, as long as you get him something strong and a whole lot of it

The both of you will get along fine!

After all, he likes people that get him gifts like this a little more

[reidmania]

weight of the world | spencer reid

summary; reader struggles to accept not being where or who you thought you’d be, and spencer loves every version of you, even the one yet to exist.

warnings; established relationship, early seasons spence, (s2-4) self doubt, fem reader, struggles with not reaching expectations, insecurities, self reflection, hurt x comfort, comparing achievements, comparing to SPENCERS achievements, self deprecation, uni student reader, stressed reader, reader cleans as a distraction, she is a lil mean for a moment but shes stressed and spencer loves her.

an; be kind to yourself. its okay not to be who you thought you would be.

this is not at all proof read in any way shape or form and it will not be. i am just a girl. let me live w my bad grammar and spelling mistakes. imma guess 2k words but idk man

You had made yourself a home on the cold tiles of the bathroom floor, your focus had been drawn away from the cabinets you had been wiping down, instead to the numerous other thoughts that took up an abundance of empty space in your mind.

The microfibre cloth you had been using laid still in the palm of your hand, the antiseptic spray bottle discarded next to you — long forgotten about, you didn’t notice the fact that the last time you had sprayed the cabinet door was now nearing ten minutes ago, and was left dripping down the frame — un-wiped. Leaving small puddles on the floor near where your knees laid.

Maybe it was guilt that had distracted you and led you to zoning out, guilt that you had decided to take a break from the essay due at midnight to clean. Such a mundane task yet it filled you with such guilt. Why were you sitting here cleaning bathroom cabinets that didn’t need to be cleaned rather than finishing the essay?

After sitting in the same position, legs crossed on the bed staring at the computer screen for hours that had begin to accumulate too fast, your mind needed a break, your legs needed to move and your hands were cramping. So you chose to clean. You ignored the fact that it was most likely because of your need to feel like you were doing something of worth.

Yet, you were instead sitting on your knees on the bathroom floor, mind somewhere else between the cleaning and the laptop sitting open on your bed with the half written essay still illuminating in the dark space you had hidden yourself in beforehand. Your mind was instead filled with questions, questions you desperately tried to find any sort of answer too — expect the more you thought the further from an answer you got.

In your state, you missed the sound of the front door opening and closing, you missed the sound of your lovely boyfriend calling out that he was home, and you missed the footsteps heading towards the bathroom. It wasn’t until he turned the light on and off that your attention was pulled away from your mind and to the man leaning against the door frame, eyebrow raised, a knowing questioning look of concern covering his features.

You blinked, you weren’t sure when you had last done that. Your eyes went to him, and then to the cabinet, then back to him. Oh.

“Are you okay?” He asked, he took the steps towards you, kneeling down against the floor to meet your height. Your eyebrows furrowed as you tried to figure out an answer to his question, but you nodded anyways.

“I got distracted” You mumbled, turning your gaze back to the door that had the liquid dripping down it, now basically dry and left with wet stained, you cursed in your mind as you absentmindedly reached out for the bottle, respraying the cabinet and wiping it down. You let out a heavy breath you weren’t aware you were holding in. “How was work?” You asked Spencer.

Spencer hummed, acknowledging your question. He shuffled slightly — obviously uncomfortable in the kneeling position he was in against the hard tiled floor. “Fine, normal. How are you going on that essay?” He asked, his hand came gently to your back to rub gentle circles over the fabric of your t-shirt.

Your mind blanked at his question, the realisation and remembrance of the essay you were supposed to have finished. You wanted to cry as the feeling of pure overwhelming stress filled every bone in your body. Your hand paused its movements against the door, head turning to face him as shame washed over your cheeks. “I haven’t finished it.”

He shrugged, “Thats okay, You still have a few hours. Do you want help?” He offered so sweetly and you were sure you could cry.

Your head shook, “No- I just- Im procrastinating.” You huffed, looking back at the cabinet as you finished wiping it down. You could feel the headache growing again at just the idea of having to return to the essay that had been kicking your ass for days.

He stood up, offering you his hand to help pull you up. “You’re taking a break. You’re allowed to do that.” He reassured, yet it didn’t do a lot to ease your mind as you took his hand, letting him help pull you to stand. You let out a humourless chuckle.

“Sure, and then I become more of a failure.”

You shouldn’t have said it, you could already hear his response without him having to say it. It was one of those things where the thoughts of your mind took over the weight of your tongue, slipping out without any real thought of the response they would get from Spencer, nor the concern.

“You aren’t a failure. Struggling to write an essay doesn’t make you a failure. We talked about this.” He mumbled out, shaking his head dismissively. Spencer hated when you drowned yourself to the point of pure self depreciation normally streaming from the stress you endured.

You hummed, not responding further than that because you really didn’t want to talk about this again, knowing the last time ended with Spencer making you stand in the mirror and say positive affirmations. You walked out of the bathroom, leaving the spray and cloth on the counter as you made your way back to the bedroom, Spencer followed and flicked the light on as he entered behind you.

You sat on the bed, pulling the laptop back on your lap as you read over the last line of what you had written, mind blanking in response to what next add. Your headache growing. Spencer frowned as he pulled his tie off. “Im serious, struggling to write an essay doesn’t make you a failure. You aren’t a failure. You can ask for an extension, you are a good student — They’d give you it” He said.

You shook your head, eyes staying focused on the screen and less to his words, or the fact he was changing which normally would have all your attention. “I don’t want to ask for an extension.” You stated. That was embarrassing, you wanted to be able to do it like everybody else, on time, without any help.

Spencer had changed into pyjamas, coming to sit next to you on the bed, his hand reached out for the laptop. “I know you don’t want to, but you can.” He mumbled, your hand stopping his from closing the screen. You knew he didn’t want to stress yourself out about this, and you couldn’t help but want to tell him its too late.

“Stop. I need to finish this” You mumbled, disregarding his previous comment, your mind both focused and in a million different places all at once.

He sighed, hand letting go and instead reaching out to hold onto one of yours. If he hadn’t talked before you could argue that you needed your hand to type, you would have pulled it away from his grasp. Not because you didn’t want to hold his hand, but because you needed to get this done. “You are not a failure, sweet girl. Its one essay”

“It’s not about the essay.” It wasn’t, sure the essay played apart in your current spiral of self deprecation but it was more than that. It was your entire life. It was where you were, or more-so where you weren’t. You pulled your hands away from the screen to rub your eyes, still not meeting Spencers gaze.

His frown deepened as his hand moved to rest against your back, “Whats it about then? Stop thinking about this.. Talk to me” He mumbled as he took advantage of your current distraction and the fact that your hands were busy to pull the laptop away from your lap, leaving it open but towards the edge of the bed.

You would’ve paid more attention to the movement if your mind wasn’t drawn in a different direction by his question. How were you suppose to explain to a 25 year old, genius FBI profiler who flew through high school and college, with three phd’s that you were simply just sick of trying and failing to reach the expectations you had set for yourself? Simple basic expectations.

“Everything- I really don’t want to talk about this with you” You didn’t mean for it to come across so rude and personal, you truly didn’t. You knew it was rude to invalidate his struggles all because he was smart, it wasn’t your intention to do so, but how were you suppose to tell your genius boyfriend that you simply didn’t like the person you were becoming, or the place you were currently in life.

He frowned, like really genuinely frowned and regret flooded into your chest, you opened your mouth to apologise but he spoke first, “You don’t have to, but Im not going to judge you, no matter what it is thats bothering you.” his hand slipping under your shirt to press against your bare skin in smoothing motion.

“Spence” You frowned as you tilted your head looking at him.

He shook his head, “Don’t apologise. You’re allowed to not want to tell me things, that doesn’t mean I don’t want to know or don’t care.” He said gently.

You could cry as your head spun. “Its just— This isn’t where I thought I’d be right now.” You mumbled out, you weren’t sure if it was loud enough for Spencer to hear or completely comprehend but you assumed so, since his movements paused on your back for a second.

Then he nodded, “I can understand that. Where did you think you’d be?” He asked.

You mulled over his question for a moment because there wasn’t a specific straight answer, it was more so that you just expected more out of yourself, you just expected better. “I don’t know.. I just feel like— For example you are nearly 26 and you are a genius, you work in the FBI, and I’m sitting here struggling to write an essay.” You compared.

He sighed, shaking his head again. “Thats an unfair comparison, thats an unrealistic standard to set for yourself. You are smart, you are so smart and so amazing and you are doing the best that you possibly can.” He said, looking up at you as he spoke so gently. You wanted to drown yourself in the sound of his voice.

You huffed, knowing he was right, because Spencer was a genius, he just was. His brain was extraordinary. “I know.. I mean— I know, but its more then that, like people doing the same essay would have already had it done and handed in, they wouldn’t be sitting here being grumpy with their boyfriends all because they are disappointed in themselves”

He shrugged, “Our brains work in funny ways. When you are stressed or even overwhelmed your brain triggers the first response it can think of because it is struggling to take anything more. It’s not your fault, it’s normal to take your emotions out on your surroundings.” He said, speaking so factually it didn’t exactly help your struggle with compassion but there was some comfort to be found in the midst of his ramble.

“You don’t deserve it though.” You mumbled out.

He nodded, “Neither do you. You’re being too hard on yourself. It’s okay to have high expectations but it’s not okay to beat yourself up for not constantly meeting those expectations, especially when you tend to create unrealistic expectations.”

You frowned at his words, despite them hitting an emotional nerve they were sweet enough to sooth the space of your mind a little more. You really wished it was that simple to quiet your mind. “It’s- Yeah. I know you’re right.. But even just me as a person.. I’m just not who I thought I’d be.. I feel like im constantly picking apart everything I’ve ever done trying to figure out if maybe I did one thing differently.. I’d be.. different— Maybe if I picked a different course I wouldn’t be struggling so much” You thought aloud.

He let out a soft breath, his hand continuing its gentle movements on your back, his head coming to press his lips against your forehead before pulling back a little bit. “Is this course what you want to be doing?” He asked, voice gentle and soft.

You nodded. It was.

“Then it’s worth it, and it will be worth it. Theres so many ways we can work out if you’re finding it too difficult right now, that doesn’t make you a failure or any less good of a student nor a person than it does anyone else. You would never be this mean to somebody going through the same issue, give yourself a break” He spoke softly.

You pondered his words, head dropping down slightly too look at your hands, he hardly allowed you a chance to think before he was speaking again, his head tilting a little as his free hand came to tuck under your chin, encouraging your face back up so your gaze was focused on his.

“And, you can’t beat yourself up for things that happened in the past, yes maybe if you did something differently then you’d be different. So would I, and anybody else, thats not a bad thing, but focusing on all those things on the past doesn’t change that they happened. You can’t hate what you have been through or you will never ever like yourself. You have your entire life to become whoever you want, just focus on being who you need to be, right now.” He spoke, gaze holding yours.

You didn’t say anything, instead just keeping your focus on him and everything he was saying. Letting the sweet comfort of his words quiet the loud voices in your head.

“I love you, and I love who you were before, i love who you are now, and I love whoever you end up becoming.” He said gently, a whisper held in the air between the two of you.

You offered him a soft smile, “I love you” You replied, deciding against adding the ‘too’ because it felt unnecessary, another unnecessary comparison that you would drown yourself in. You loved him, and he loved you. That was enough.

“Let me help you?” He asked, basically pleading.

and this time you agreed.

[fuyuu-chan]

Jealousy, Jealousy

Pairing: Sylus x Reader

Warning: OOC (this was made pre-release of Sylus) not proofread

Fuyuu-chan: Some thoughts about how you and sylus react when someone else flirts to the other

✧⁠◝⁠(⁠⁰⁠▿⁠⁰⁠)⁠◜⁠✧

~You getting jealous~

You know with just his looks alone he already has a lot of girls around him. Fonding and admiring him. Some girls just do it from a far but this time...one of them actually had the guts to go to sylus and try to flirt with him. You were actually walking in front of him excited to go to your next destination but you heard someone approached him so you looked back and thats when you saw the girl walked up to him.

If only she knew his personality. You do give a point for her braveness and boldness. But oh well, he's already taken. You shake your head, feeling sorry for the girl. But when you looked back at her and sylus. They way she still tries to flirt with your man even do he already dismiss it in a "polite way."

The way she twirls her hair and blinks at him, you're cringing but to be honest you feel a tug of jealosuy, cause you're the only who flirts with sylus.

Sylus who sense your stare, immediately dismiss and glared at the girl "cant you understand? I already said no" he says coldly as he immediately approached you and put his hand on your waist as he continue to lead the way making you look away from the girl and look at him.

"You know, i can sense your jealousy from there, your stare already screams it" he tease as he glance at you smirking.

You looked away from him. "no im not" you defend.

"Oh really? So you dont mind someone flirting with me?" He asks and you frowned. "I mind, im the only who can flirt with you" you said.

"So you're jealous, just admit it" sylus says as you roll your eyes playfully. "Okay fine..."

He smiles and looks at you. "Thank you...but seriously no need to be jealous you know i wouldnt let anyone replace you, nor would i entertain someone when i already have the most gorgeous person in the world" 

"Thats cringe" you comment even though your cheeks got tinted red to what he said. "But you like it" he adds. "Anyway, if that really upsets you, i could-" "no dont do that, dont do anything to them, im okay" you cut him off, knowing what he would say.

He merely chuckles at that.

(⁠｡⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠｡⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠♡

~Sylus getting jealous~

This man wouldnt get jealous easily and its also hard to make him jealous, he wouldnt get jealous to just some random guy who wants your number because they found you beautiful. I believe Sylus would just chuckle watching them shoot their shot only for them to get rejected by you.

Though....its a different story when he sense that a guy could be a threat. Thats when he will step in or take action. First he would glare at the person. Dude his aura alreadys screams danger. If that guy still wont budge then he better enjoy this day as this would be the last time he would see the light of day.

Sylus would go beside you taking your hand while staring at the guy infront. "Do you know this person (nickname)?" He ask as he glance at you. You shake your head as you look at him and back at the guy.

"Well then, i apologize but you're disturbing our time together, and as she says earlier, she's taken, so please step out of the way and dont push yourself when theres no space for you" he says as he glares at the guy and lead you away from that place. Sylus will make sure he would deal with that guy later tonight.

"Umm what was that?" You asked. "What?" He immeadiately responds.

"Are you angry?" You said a bit surprised, normally he had his composure in check but his tone while he said that to the guy was dangerous. It literally sent a shiver down your spine, so what more about that guy? Poor him.

"Im pissed. I mean you already said no, does he think he have a chance? Does he think he could replace me? Never." He says as he finally stop walking and face you. "He thinks he would have space when i already taken all of the space in your heart"

You chuckled at his jealousy. "Why are laughing at me?" He asks. "You're just sooo cutee" you coo making him pout. "Im not cute" "yes you are" "im not" "yes you are~" you said as you tiptoe and peck his cheek making him freeze and look at you a bit shock.

You chuckled once again before you start walking, leaving him a few steps behind. Sylus watch you hop on your steps before catching up on you.

ฅ⁠^⁠•⁠ﻌ⁠•⁠^⁠ฅ

Please do not copy, translate, repost to any other social media, Thank you

[jawbone-xylophone]

Okay time to be really opinionated: I think almost the entire TMA fandom writes Michael Distortion wrong.

Every time I read a fic about him people are emphasizing how swirly and elongated he/it is.

What's scary about Michael is that it is essentially the living personification of gaslighting. He makes everything else metaphorically swirly.

Sure there's "nobody would believe you", but most people who meet Michael think he looks angelic. He only looks scary out of the corner of your eye, or if he's feeding you just enough truth to get your guard down. He's fun to draw and describe as a psychedelic nightmare, but he is basically the gaslighting demon. It's a polite young man with curly hair and a beautiful smile who you could absolutely take home to meet your mother.

You only know he's a monster because your lizard brain starts screaming.

On a related note, its portfolio also includes dissociation and hallucinations, and nobody takes enough advantage of that– like, kissing Michael. Lots of people describe kissing Michael as a very physical event with notes of static and that tingling sensation of limbs falling asleep. A good start, but my argument: you feel him smooching your cheek and giving your hand a cute little squeeze, despite the fact that he's across the room ordering a coffee. It feels so real. You can feel his callouses catching at your fingers, but no matter how you flex your hand there's nothing there but air. You don't know if you just want it that badly and your eyes are lying, or what. He brings you a coffee and the sensation vanishes.

I know exactly what that episode about "the man who wasn't there" was because I've experienced it, and nobody utilizes that enough. Have you ever closed your eyes and tried to walk through a room, and been Firmly Convinced there was an object in front of you you were about to run into, despite no evidence of such an object when you open your eyes? It's a little like that. Any sort of relationship with Michael Distortion (not recommended and likely a way it has killed many people) would involve you getting comfortable with the fact that your senses are lying to you at an exponentially increasing rate, like a frog slowly being boiled alive.

Is he there? Is he not? Does it matter? You feel loved. You remember being told good morning and eating a homemade breakfast. Did you actually? Maybe it's a memory from a year ago you only think is from this morning. He's adorable even if his laugh gives you tinnitus. Maybe you've always had migraines. He takes care of you through them. Can you remember what he does to take care of you? ....normal people stuff, probably. Ice packs. You think he brought you ice packs once. You're sitting at a bus stop, going... somewhere, for a reason you're sure, and your body is telling you you're sitting on his lap but you keep checking, tapping with your nails, and the seat is hard metal. Does it matter? Maybe it really is him. You'd prefer if it was him. These cute little hallucinations are his way of showing affection. It's comfortable, even when the city shuts off your water because you only thought you paid your bills. He gives you his coat in the rain, and you laugh together and run through the weather, but when you get home you're holding a stranger's purse full of cash instead of a coat and you have no idea why. It's his idea of affection, though. He says he loves you when you ask about it, anyway, and don't you need the money now?

He's a lovely young man and the only normal thing in a world gone mad. The gloves only come off when it's done playing with its food.

[arcaneauthor]

would u be able to do han jisung cute things he does as your bf?

Cute things Han does as your bf

Pairing: Han Jisung x Reader

Tags: established relationship, fluff, just Han being a lovable dork basically, I’m so bad at tags idk

Warnings: mentioned anxiety, mentioned kissing ig?? Apparently I’m bad at warnings too

Author’s note: As someone who fully believes there is not near enough Han fics on this app I’m so glad you requested this. Hope you like it!

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

He’s tried on multiple occasions to cook these extravagant meals to surprise you with when you get home but they almost always end up with you coming through the door to the smell of something burning as Han panickedly scrambles around the kitchen. And the times it’s not immediately went up in flames, it’s mostly inedible.

His face always turns beat red the moment you both take that first bite and he watches as you struggle to try to act like it’s good in order to save his feelings before you both just in the long run decide take-out is the best option.

As we all know Han himself has pretty bad social anxiety which means he knows the signs very well. So he’ll be the first to notice when you’re feeling anxious or your social battery drains. He’ll start rubbing your back or put a hand on your thigh to try to comfort you without drawing too much unwanted attention to your current condition knowing that will just make it worse, or if it gets really bad he’ll excuse y’all and make up some kind of excuse as to why you have to leave.

This of course makes you feel bad and start apologizing to which he immediately assures you it’s completely fine and laugh it off about how it was a boring party anyway. (It wasn’t. He was actually planning on staying another hour or two but he would never tell you that)

Always so adorably clumsy. Like there’s been multiple instances where he’s leaned in for a kiss too enthusiastically and you’ve bumped foreheads. His boba eyes turn so round as he immediately starts spewing apologizes, frantically checking your forehead for a mark at which you just start chuckling at the absurdity and cuteness of your boyfriend. Which in turn makes him laugh and then it’s just so contagious that y’all both start cackling.

As Han himself has stated, he is a very bad impulsive buyer. Which means he will literally buy you presents like every other day. It’s to the point where you have to very kindly tell him that even though you loved his gifts, if he kept buying them so frequently he would end up broke lol

Makes it Tea time all the time. Girl I’m telling you spill the tea to this man at every possible moment, he 👏eats 👏it 👏up👏. Literally the best to gossip with.

He sets up little date nights at the house for you since you’d both rather stay in together most of the time anyway. Though these “date nights” usually end up looking like what people would normally picture as a “girls night” lol. Face masks, cups of tea, kdrama playing, etc. but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Neck kisses. Just-yeah

Constantly cracking cheesy jokes around you just cause he loves making you laugh.

Play wrestles with you which then somehow turns into a tickle fight as you both are giggling like children. Grabs you up by the waist when you try to escape him. “Oh no I’m not done with you yet.” You’re kicking your legs trying to get free while still laughing so hard tears are coming out your eyes.

Loves to take you on little one day trips when he has time. Not to some busy tourist spot but just some isolated scenic routes or something. Just you and him, windows down with music playing softly in the background as he locks his hand with yours. Just enjoying each other’s company as you gaze at the beautiful world around you

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

End notes: so this one kind of got out of hand lol but it’s not my fault this man has been bias wrecking me so hard lately😖

[froggiewrites]

Picture You (3/4)

Pairing: Sanji x Reader, Zoro x Reader

NSFW

Summary: The crew is celebrating their latest victory when they find you on their laps, drunk and clingy and affectionate, begging for attention. Sanji and Zoro both deal with a clingy drunk, and have deal with the unwanted feelings it brings from deep within them. Warnings: Not Actually Unrequited Love, Smut, Hurt/Comfort (comfort is finally here), Praise Kink (Sanji) Word Count: 3.9k Crossposted from Ao3 Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

She can’t be sure, but she thinks Sanji and Zoro are avoiding her.

Her head was fuzzy after last night, having a little too much sake and not enough water, but thankfully she was spared from her usual pounding hangover. She has some residual embarrassment from getting so bold with her friends, but she can deal with that. Or she could, if their response was teasing instead of…whatever this is.

At breakfast, Sanji wouldn’t look her in the eye, didn’t fawn over her as usual, and scarfed down his food uncharacteristically quickly so he could focus on washing dishes instead of finding excuses to avoid her gaze. When she tried to stay back to help, he had practically shoved her out of the kitchen (or as close as he could get without laying a hand on her), insisting it was his job, not hers. She wanted to ask him if it had really been so awful, to learn that she wanted him, but she feared that would somehow make it all worse. She didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, as she clearly had done last night.

She wanted to go to the crow’s nest at first, take a moment to herself, but she knew Zoro was up there, and he was acting even worse than Sanji. At least Sanji had stuck around for breakfast. Zoro had been in and out so quickly she had almost missed him coming in at all, only seeing him because Luffy had called after him when he was leaving. She thought last night he had reciprocated her affections somewhat, as much as a man that stoic would be willing, but maybe she had read him wrong. Maybe she was drunk and touchy and ruined her relationships with the two men in the world she cared about the most. Or maybe this would blow over in a few days. Most conflicts on the Merry seem to go that way, passing so quickly it’s like it never happened at all.

Maybe she can go back to pretending she doesn’t think of the two of them as more than friends. To pretending that her heart doesn’t skip a beat whenever they smile at her, whenever their hands brush hers, whenever they do nearly anything.

But maybe she doesn’t want to.

She thought they felt the same. And last night she had felt some things that showed they’re at least attracted to her. She had really, truly convinced herself that this was reciprocal. That they wanted her. It can’t have all been in her head.

She needs to talk to them. To figure it out. If they really don’t want her, she’ll leave it alone, but she can’t relax in this tension. Even the rest of the crew feel it, tiptoeing around her as she sits on the deck and ponders. Who to start with?

At least Sanji could stand being in the same room as her. That was a start. She could talk to Sanji while giving Zoro some more time to cool off, and hopefully by the end of the day things would be better. Normal. They would look at her again, smile at her again, even if they didn’t want anything more.

She made her way to the kitchen, steps quicker than usual in an attempt to not lose her nerve. Her knuckles rapped lightly against the door, and though she didn’t hear a call to come in she did so anyway.

She can see his back, the tension in his shoulders obvious even from a distance. He’s still washing dishes, proof of his distraction. On a normal day he would have finished long ago and already started on lunch prep. He doesn’t even look up when she walks in, too lost in his own thoughts to spare a single one to his surroundings.

“Sanji?” Her voice comes out meek and small, though she had tried hard to keep it steady.

He flinches like he’s been hit. He whips around, hands still covered in suds, and addresses her. “Oh, my love! So nice to see you. Do you need something?” His voice is strained, and he isn’t looking at her.

She sighs. “I wanted to talk to you, actually. Do you have some time?”

His eyes flick to the dishes as he clearly battles between his own discomfort and his instinct to listen to her. She can see the exact moment the latter wins. “I have a little time before I need to start lunch. Are you alright?”

“No, actually, I’m not. A dear friend of mine is avoiding me, and it’s really hurting my feelings.”

He frowns, guilt spilling across his features. “I’m sorry, dear. Is this about Zoro? Because I can go–”

“Are we going to pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” He still won’t look at her. His eyes are fixed firmly on the wall behind her.

“Do you really–Are you really that repulsed by me?”

“What?” His eyes fly to her, wide and confused. He sounds truly and genuinely shocked she could think that.

“This is the first time you’ve looked at me all morning, Sanji! I understand if you don’t feel the same way, but god! Is it that awful to think that I’m attracted to you? You don’t have to like me but avoiding me like this is…I just can’t stand it. I care about you too much to let that put distance between us. If you don’t want to be with me that’s okay, but please, please don’t avoid me.”

“I…” His mouth is agape, and he’s clearly struggling for words. She would fill the silence for him, but she’s a little too busy holding back tears at the idea that he hates her. “You think you’re the problem here?”

“What else could it possibly be?”

“Me?” He says it like it’s so obvious, like he doesn’t believe she could come to any other conclusion.

“How are you the problem here, Sanji? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

His eyes soften, and his lips quirk up into a horrible, self deprecating smile. Like he pities her for not being able to see something wrong with him. “Angel, I did. Of course I did. You could never wrong me.”

She can tell that he really believes that, that she is infallible. It makes her chest ache, in a way she can’t quite put into words. When he does that, when he praises her, he’s putting distance between them. Putting her up on a pedestal as though purposefully keeping her out of reach. What happens when he puts her up so high she can no longer reach down to him? When she tries and ends up falling?

“What do you think you did wrong, sweetheart?” She keeps her voice soft, choosing her words carefully. He looks delicate now, almost fragile, a far cry from his usual quiet strength. She wants to reach out to him, to comfort him somehow, but she knows from somewhere deep in her that one wrong move would shatter him.

“I–” She can see his hands are shaking, though he tries to hide them in his pockets. “I took advantage of you. When you were drunk. I shouldn’t have let you do that. I should have–I should have been better.”

Ah. There he goes again, blaming himself for every single thing in the world, whether it’s his fault or not, no matter the severity. Putting himself on the cross before someone else gets the chance to do it for him. “Sanji, I know I was a little tipsy, but I knew what I was doing. And I threw myself onto you. On purpose. Of my own free will. You didn’t do anything other than welcome me.”

“No, you don’t get it. I…I used you, and then I left.” He’s blushing up to his ears, shifting on his feet. His eyes leave hers again, and she resists the urge to grab his chin and make him look at her. To make him look in her eyes and see the way she looks at him, to try to show him the adoration and affection she carries.

“You’re allowed to leave if you’re uncomfortable. You never have to stay if you don’t want to. And you didn’t use me, you just reciprocated what I was doing. And I–” She clears her throat, cheeks turning a little pink. “I enjoyed it. A lot.”

“You did?” His eyes flick up again, almost hopeful.

“I did.” She takes a tentative step forward, searching for signs he might flee. He lets her approach, looking frightened and confused and guilty still, but he does not run. “I always enjoy when I’m with you.” She continues forward, the sound of her feet tapping against the kitchen floor echoing between them.

He breaks the tension with a whisper so quiet she nearly misses it.

“Am I allowed?”

“What?” She didn’t and couldn’t understand his hesitation.

“Am I–” he chokes a little, as if holding back a sob. “Can I want this? I’m not–I don’t deserve you.”

She can’t hide the concern on her face. “Honey, what do you mean by that?”

“I’m…you don’t understand how awful I am.” He looks on the verge of tears, and her heart breaks at the sight.

“Sanji…” She brings her hand to his cheek, and he leans into it instantly. He allows his eyes to flutter closed, choking back another sob, and her chest hurts when she realizes how little it takes to make him melt like this. What has his life been like, for him to treat such a small gesture as though it were his lifeline?

“I think about you.” His voice is so soft she barely hears it. He’s trembling, and she’s almost scared he’ll collapse.

“I think about you too.”

His eyes burst open, and he rushes to speak. “No, darling, I don’t think you know what I–”

“I know exactly what you mean, Sanji. And I think about you too. Constantly.” The hand not on his cheek gently rests on his chest. “I think of your hands, so gentle and so very talented. I think about your lips, and I wonder if they’re as soft as I’ve imagined. I think about your chest, what it would feel like to grab it.”

“Darling…” He’s looking at her in a new light, one he doesn’t seem to have imagined her in before. He had known wanting, yearning, until his chest threatened to cave in. But he had never once imagined being wanted.

“I’ve thought about your cock, what it might look like. What it would feel like.” He chokes again, and she suppresses the embarrassment of saying such things aloud. He needs to know. “I’ve thought about you pinning me against this very counter and doing whatever you wanted to me. Or doing whatever I wanted to you. Depends on the day.”

He swallows thickly, his eyes blown wide with lust, and she hopes with everything in her that her eyes aren’t deceiving her, and that he wants this as badly as she does. She let the hand on his chest slowly slide down, very slowly, giving him a chance to stop her, to tell her no, but his eyes hold nothing but hope and lust. She stills stops at his waistband, giving him another chance to deny her. To pull back, to let nothing change. He whimpers when she does.

“If you want me, you need to say it, Sanji.” Her own voice is thick with lust, and he moans when she speaks.

“I want you. Oh god, do I want you.” His hands were shaking as he reached for her. “Please, please, can I want you? Can I touch you?”

“Yes.”

Before she can say another word, their lips are crashing together, and his hands are on her. One behind her back to pull her closer, the other on her right breast, squeezing and searching. His fingers find her nipple through her shirt, and she lets out a squeak against his lips. At the sound, his hips rut forward, and for a moment she can finally feel that he truly does want her just as much as she wants him.

Her hands meet at his chest, where they frantically start unbuttoning his shirt. She needs to feel his bare skin now, the thought silencing anything else in her brain. As his shirt falls open, her hands wander, across his abdomen, across his chest, his shoulders, anything he can reach. He’s so warm and firm, so wonderful. Her fingers brush against his nipples and he moans into her mouth, pulling their hips even closer together.

He breaks their kiss for a moment and she lets out a sad whimper, one that makes it difficult for him not to immediately crash their lips back together. His hands reach for the hem of her shirt, slowly revealing what lies beneath it. His breath catches when he sees her chest, though her bra is still blocking most of what he wants to see. Even the outline of her, just the impression, was enough to leave him breathless. He throws her shirt aside, fingers finding the clasp of her bra, and he’s finally able to see what he’s been dreaming about.

“Oh my love,” he moans, “you’re even more beautiful than my dreams. More than I could have possibly imagined.”

Before she can respond, assure him that he too was better than her wildest dreams, her mouth is on her chest, nipping, sucking, and she’s helpless. She lets out a pathetic keening noise that sends heat to her cheeks but she quickly learns also sends some right to his cock. He grinds against her as his teeth graze her nipple, and she lets out a cry that she is sure someone outside could easily hear.

“Oh god, darling, I could listen to you forever.” His fingers hook on the waist of her pants before slowly pulling them down, revealing her thighs and panties. The look on his face is intense, hot, and hungry. He starts to reach for her underwear before she catches his wrists in her hands.

His eyes shoot up, imploring her to let go, to let him keep going. “Not yet, Sanji. Can you wait for me?” Her voice is sweet, and he melts in reply.

“Of course, darling. Anything for you.”

“Can you strip for me, dear? I want to see the rest of you.”

He’s unzipping his suit pants before she can even finish her plea. He slides out of them easily, revealing long lean legs she’s admired dozens of times when he wasn’t looking. How wonderful it is to admire them now that she knows he is. Now he can see her want, how beautiful she finds him. His eyes are on her, mouth slightly agape, as though he can’t believe what he’s seeing. Her eyes are fixed on his lower half, slowly inching their way up to his groin, and she looks happy. Thrilled, honestly. She wants him so badly she’s practically drooling. If he weren’t so desperate to touch her again he could live in this moment forever, the moment where it finally began to feel real.

But he wants to touch her so badly, feel her come undone beneath him, so after he kicks off his pants and shoes his fingers slide below the band of his boxers, shoving them down quickly, with no pomp or circumstance. Even without a dramatic reveal, he takes her breath away as his cock slaps against his stomach, long and hard. It suits him perfectly, she thinks. It’s the last coherent thought she has.

“Can I touch it?” She asks softly, her voice filled with awe.

“Please,” he whimpers. She reaches out slowly, taking it in one of her hands. It’s warm, and the sound he makes when she touches it, god it is heavenly.

“I think you may be an angel, Sanji,” she confesses. “I’ve never seen anyone more beautiful.”

She expects him to flirt back, to say some cheesy line he had ready, but instead he keens so sweetly and his eyes squeeze shut. His cock twitches in her hand. “Oh, do you like that, sweetheart?”

He lets out a delicate whine.

“Oh, darling, if only you had told me before. I’ve been holding back for so long.” She starts to stroke him slowly, her voice saccharine. “You’re the prettiest man I’ve ever seen, really. I truly mean that. Every inch of you. When we first met I almost thought you couldn’t be real, that no one could look like this.”

He moans again, his hands gripping the counter so hard his knuckles are turning white. “I thought the same thing about you.”

“Oh, did you?” She laughs a little. “That’s nice to hear.”

“If you–hng–” he struggles to speak, but he manages anyway. “If you keep that up I won’t last very long.”

She gives him one last stroke before letting go, instead allowing her hands to wander up to rest behind his neck. “I wouldn’t mind, but I should probably stop there. I think I’ll go insane if I don’t feel you inside me.”

Another whimper.

“Well, Sanji, since you’ve been so good,” another whine, “why don’t you finally take what you want?”

He looks at her with a look that borders on worship. “Can I?”

“Yes, Sanji, you can.”

Suddenly her back is against the counter, her panties are off, and he’s groaning as he lines himself up with her hole. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he repeats like a prayer.

When he finally thrusts she sees stars, and the feeling of fullness makes her cry out. He rests for a moment, allowing her to adjust to the feeling, and then he’s moving, hands firmly holding her hips while he pistons into her.

“Sanji!” She can’t help but call his name, and he groans. She wants him. She wants him, she’s holding him against her, pressing their chests together. She’s crying out for him, clenching around him, and she’s happy. It’s better than anything he imagined, anything he dreamed or prayed for, and the feeling is so overwhelming he doesn’t realize he’s crying until her hands are wiping away the tears.

“Oh, Sanji. Let it all out, sweetheart.”

And he does. He pulls her impossibly closer, hips crashing against hers, and he cries, burying his face into her neck, taking in her scent and warmth and beautiful voice.

“You’re doing so good, Sanji. You’re making me feel so good, darling.” He slams into her even harder, almost hard enough to bruise. He’s crying so hard it almost turns into sobs, and he pulls her closer, leaving not a single inch of space between them. She’s here, she’s real, she wants him. She thinks he’s good.

She kisses the top of his head tenderly, her hands rubbing his back. “So wonderful, Sanji. So good. I’m so glad you’re here. I’m so glad we’re doing this.” Even as she’s assuring him, he can tell she’s coming apart at the seams, barely managing to keep her voice steady, and he smiles against her through the tears. He’s doing this. This is all him. Something good is finally coming from him.

“Love you–oh god. Love you. Love you, angel.” His voice is strained with both lust and tears, but he forces it out anyway. She needs to hear. He needs so badly for her to hear. He retains just enough of his mind to reach down for her clit, a gentleman even now, as he’s falling apart in every way possible.

“Love you too, Sanji. Need you, god! You’re doing so good. Such a good boy, Sanji.”

With that he breaks, breaking his face out of her neck to crash their lips together again as he came, filling her to the brim. The feeling of him twitching inside her, still rutting against her, combined with his calloused fingers on her clit brings her over as well, has her moaning against his lips. He continues to thrust through both of their orgasms until they’re both well and truly spent, before they both collapse against the counter.

They sit there for a while, just holding each other, before reality starts to set in. They’re in the kitchen, with the door unlocked, with an incredibly nosy crew who might have heard any of that.

“We should probably–”

“A few more minutes?” His voice is soft, muffled against her neck. She can’t bring herself to refuse him.

“Of course, angel.” His head moves from her neck to her breasts, his ear resting against just above them, listening to her heartbeat. Confirming again that this is real, that she is here, and that this heart is beating for him. Her hands move to run through his hair, soothing him in a way he didn’t know was possible.

“This was real, right? You meant everything you said?” His eyes are imploring, still red-rimmed from his tears.

“Yes, Sanji. I meant every single word.”

His smile makes her chest ache. She didn’t know he could look like that, so free and unburdened.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“We should…probably get dressed.”

She laughs. “Yeah, probably.”

He grabs a clean washcloth to clean them both up, doing the work as gently and meticulously as he does everything, before throwing it in with the dirty rags. Hopefully one of them is on laundry duty this week. They both get dressed together, an act that feels somehow even more intimate than the sex. She carefully buttons his shirt back up, rolling up his sleeves, as he slips her bra back on and clasps it. Neither of their hands wander, only gently touching the places that require their immediate attention.

Once they’re both fully dressed, his arms find her again, pulling her close. Her head is pressed into his chest, tucked under his chin. She can feel his chest rumble as he talks. “So you need to go find Zoro now, yeah?”

Her chest tightens. “I–”

His chuckle cuts her off. “It’s alright, my love. I just need to know.”

“I…need to know why he’s avoiding me. If he’s okay.”

“And nothing else?” His tone is almost teasing.

“I don’t know.”

“It’s alright if it is.”

She pulls back to look at his face, to search it for any signs of dishonesty. She finds nothing but adoration, and a small amount of pride. “It really is, dear. I just want you to be happy.” And his smile turns into something more of a smirk. “And…I was first, anyway.”

The boyish glee on his face almost dismisses her concerns. Almost. “It’s really alright? You promise? It’s alright if it isn't. You’re allowed to be unhappy with it.”

His smile softens again, one of his hands resting on her cheek. “I know, dear. I promise you, it really is alright. All I want is for you to be as happy as you possibly can be, and I know that bastard swordsman feels the same. It’s probably the only thing we’ll ever agree on.” He kisses her forehead tenderly. “So go talk to him, say what you need to say, do what you need to do, and make sure you’re both back in time for dinner.”

“You–Honestly, Sanji, I think you might be too good for me.”

“Darling, I was just thinking the same thing about you.”

He kisses her again, lips soft and warm, before sending her on her way to the crow’s nest for her next confrontation.

[silent-sanctum]

hiii mijin! hope you are doing well 💕 can i req a beach day with jotaro and the crusaders, y/n getting hit on, joot getting jealous, pol and kak clowning him, those shoujo anime cliche we all know and love 😂 thanks !

Hello anon! Your beach day request has been heard! Initially, I had this planned to only be at most 600+ words, but then I went ahead and found the plot to be... a lot more 😬 Also this takes place in an au where everyone survives post-DIO's World. Anyways, I hope you enjoy! ♡

Volleyball - Jotaro x Reader

word count: 2.2k

It’s been 3 months since DIO’s defeat and no one else deserves a break more than the Crusaders.

Everyone had time to recover from their injuries and although some had worse wounds than others, they still managed to make it out of the otherwise deadly voyage alive.

It was Joseph’s idea for the team to meet-up once more in a popular beach near New York-to hang out as friends for once rather than just allies or colleagues. He promised that any expenses in relation to this one-time hangout would be covered using the “good old Joestar funds” as the old man put it.

And since the new school year wouldn’t start until a month after, and that being around familiar faces was a nice experience, Jotaro wasn’t opposed into joining, more so after knowing you were going too.

Speaking off, a part of him held onto this ounce of pride when you and Jotaro decided to be something more than being “just close friends” and who would’ve guessed that this decision would be made in the middle of a mission to save his mother.

Now, not only is Holly alive and well but he also gained a new lover for her to dote on and gush with.

And whether it was conscious or not, you both stuck around for each other, often finding ways to meet one way or another. It felt nice to have you here with him no matter the place.

So having to hop on board a plane yet again and fly off to the States for a day or two wouldn’t be too excruciating when he knew you’d be there to make the sudden meeting a bit more tolerable.

Day after arrival, here he was- sitting underneath a beach umbrella in his dark shorts, drinking juice while watching his grandfather and Polnareff compete at a game of volleyball. You were there beside him in the shade, dressed in a loose blouse and shorts, applying sun screen as you attempted to convince him to play a game with the crew.

I’d rather be at home. Despite your many tries, Jotaro stayed stubborn and said he’d be fine watching you play with the guys. You didn’t push the offer again and after a sip of your citrus drink and a quick peck on his cheek, off you went to lead a waiting Kakyoin to the playing field.

And for the next few hours, it mostly stayed like this- Jotaro and Avdol resting underneath the shade, him watching the volleyball match with his Walkman in hand listening to music, the Egyptian reading a worn-out book that’s most probably from his archives, and the rest of the group out in the sun playing their 3rd round.

Throughout his time there, Jotaro kept his eye on the game and on you specifically, mirroring your excited smile and laughter with his more subtle lip curl and huffs. In an addition to having himself be yours, the relationship helped him negate all the passing girls who took interest in him and tried to approach him.

Not that he had a hard time ignoring them to begin with it.

What Jotaro hadn’t considered was the onlooking men taking interest of you, and the thought struck him square in head when as a volleyball match ended, one of the nearby boys- an American with a blonde mop of hair and tan skin- walked over to you all smiling and shit.

Normally, you conversing with someone with the opposing sex wouldn’t bother him this much, but the second he watched the guy offering you an ice cream cone bought from the nearby vendor, he could hear himself scoff and scowl. “Why’d you accept that?” He muttered, continuing to glare at the man consistently keeping up a lively conversation with you. “What are they even talking about this long?”

“Such an irritating sight that is, right?” Jotaro glanced at Polnareff coming over to be annoying and take part in this dilemma. Behind him, Kakyoin followed. Both of them crouched by the delinquent and joined him in watching you talk with a stranger. “Can’t be helped when she’s just as attractive as you are.”

“You didn’t seem to mind it when boys from our school approached her though,” Kakyoin said.

“It’s because I know they won’t risk meeting me when they think of trying,” Jotaro replied. “But I got a feeling that guys from here are more gutsy than in Japan.”

To hammer down on that point, the blond began to point to his biceps and not-so-subtly flexed them for you to see, and you responded with a calm, wide-eyed “woah”. Jotaro rolled his eyes, rubbing a hand over his thick bicep once. “Why not head over there then? If you’re this jealous?” Polnareff said.

“I’m not jealous.” Both the cherry-haired and Frenchman stayed silent, giving him a mere deadpan. “… Fine. Just a bit.”

“So go there and introduce yourself as her boyfriend in your-” Kakyoin gestured over Jotaro’s frame. “-punk delinquent-esque ways.”

“And you can’t judge us for poor advice anymore when Nori here upgraded from telling you how to do things to instead doing things your way!” Kakyoin nodded, bumping fists with Polnareff.

Jotaro judged them regardless with one vertical look-over at the both of them. “I still don’t trust any of your advises. Besides,” he sighed. “After knowing her more, I don’t think she’d like me suddenly walking there and getting possessive.”

“But it’s not being possessive when you’re establishing boundaries monsieur Kujo,” Pol said.

“Don’t call me that,” Jotaro scowled. “Also I don’t get why you two are always in my business. It’s annoying. Leave me alone.”

Not that his “threats” were effective against this duo, who simply shared a look with each other before replying. “What are you talking about? We’re buddies!” Polnareff chuckled, wrapping an arm around the raven-haired teenager. “Who am I to leave a pal behind to wallow in their own self-pity?”

“Also to be honest, it’s entertaining to see you struggle over stuff like this,” Kakyoin said with a smirk. That and paired with those shades he bought from Egypt just made him all the more smug. “Gets all the ladies but can’t handle one-”

“You shut-”

“Hey!” All three paused to look at you waving from a distance with that damn American and his friends still standing near you. “These guys want to play a round but Grandpa Joseph’s tapping out for the day. I’m afraid his bones have become too brittle-”

“No it’s not!” Said the groaning old man plopping down on the sand the moment he reached his and Avdol’s shared blanket. “I didn’t want to overpower those kids that’s all!”

“L-”

“We’re tougher than we look gramps!” The blond called out in return just as Jotaro was about to say something to you. And that didn’t help alleviate any increasing irritation boiling in him. “How about you guys?”

“Us?” Pol asked.

“Yeah! A friendly competition between us youngsters sound good?” He said, ball already in hand. “Just one set of 2v2!”

“I’m down-”

Whatever Kakyoin had to say about accepting the invite got cut off as Jotaro stood from his spot and walked over to your side with his hands in his short pockets. By the time you were beside him, the blond and his posse faltered for a second when they saw how much taller, built, and intimidating this supposed teenager from Japan was compared to them.

“I’m joining.”

You gazed up at him with widened eyes and a dash of pink to your cheeks. “Jotaro-ssi…”

“O-Oh for sure man,” the American cleared his throat, nervous as he looked over his shoulder to his friends. “How about you guys-”

“You chickening out?” Jotaro said in his characteristic blunt mannerisms. “You wanted to play volleyball, looked for a player, and now that he’s here, you’re passing the torch to your buddies?” From the corner of his vision, you crossed your arms facing them, more amused than pissed at his intervention.

He could spot the single bead of sweat dripping down the side of his face and his Adam’s apple bobbing as he tried to play off his cold feet with false bravado. “Nothing wrong than wanting to let my pals have a shot at a game, but since you’re asking for it,” he made show as he tossed and caught the ball. “It’s game on. Though I got to warn you, I have a nasty spike.”

“It’s true!” Polnareff yelled out from the sidelines. “I saw how he moves on the other net.”

Jotaro rolled his eyes and walked off to your side of the field. “Hey, do you even know how to play volleyball?” You said with a whisper. “You haven’t played once during our time here.”

“I’ve watched you and the others play this entire afternoon enough times for me to figure out how to do it,” he said with casual ease, glancing down at you with a shrug. “If a novice can beat an expert Darby at his favorite baseball game, then this will be nothing.”

“Well yeah but you know playing a video game is drastically different than playing an actual game, right?”

He huffed, unbothered. “Makes this better for me.”

With everyone in their respective spots, one of the blond’s friends served as the referee and starting from the other guy’s side, the whistle blew and the ball flew.

True to his word and his ability to study and adapt on the spot, Jotaro managed to keep up with you and his opponents on the playing field, exchanging the ball countless times without break. All the while, the Crusaders watched this one game like die-hard fans at the Superbowl.

It shouldn’t be that much of a shocker when he knew that both of you had physical advantages: Your lithe self allowing you to be more agile and nimble to traverse the court and catch the ball before it fell, while he had the strength and height to send the ball back to the other side, often times targeted to the edges.

And just as the timer was about to hit the 29 minute mark, Jotaro noticed the American get into a stance with a smirk plastered over his tan face. He cocked his head and rose a brow. The nasty spike I assume.

You sent the ball flying to their side and just as he predicted, the blond took over center field and leapt, arm reared and hand poised to deliver his so-called “nasty spike”.

His palm got into contact with the ball’s surface and with a clear smack, the ball was sent flying over to your side. But as he was about to receive, a glint of rose gold zipped past his vision and next thing he knew, the ball was up in the air as if it was caught mid flight to the ground.

One second glimpse at your knowing look, Jotaro didn’t hesitate to follow your footsteps. He leapt off the sand and rose his hand. In that split second, Star Platinum’s purple gloved hand enveloped his and upon contact with its surface, the ball practically launched itself at the American at a raging speed akin to an incoming missile.

The sand erupted in a loud boom, causing a shallow crater with plumes of sand flying off in many directions as the ball hit the ground. It rolled off the now-incapacitated blond stranger’s body.

His friends couldn’t even move nor make the effort to blow the whistle from the shock of it all.

Jotaro tongued the inside of his cheek, casually pocketing his hands back in his shorts as he glared at the American. “Nasty spike ,” he scoffed. “What a joke.”

You whistled, impressed as you looked down the crater. “You did a number on him.”

He reached over to grab your wrist. “Let’s get out of here.” With a gentle tug, you complied to his wish and followed him out the sandy court. He didn’t even bother meeting up with the Crusaders, who were equally stunned at what had happened.

“You’re not at all questioning why I’m not at all offended at you knocking the man out?”

“I’m questioning why you decided to cheat and use Sanctuary midway.”

“The game was ending in a minute anyways,” you said. “And I wanted to finish it off with a bang.”

“By letting me launch a ball at his face?” You smiled and nodded. “And you’re okay with that?”

“He’s a weirdo,” you grimaced. “His fetishes were showing when he said something about how exotic and pretty I was, and it pissed me off.”

Hearing that made Jotaro want to turn around to the guy for one more solid punch to the face. “But I saw you talking to him for that long.”

“Made you jealous, didn’t it?” You said, smug. “I lowkey wanted to bait you into playing a game with me by riling you up a bit, and for you to finish off that creep with what he deserved.”

“I wasn’t-” He bit his tongue, not finishing his train of thought. “I was a bit jealous and I’m glad I got to wreck that shit-eating face of his in the process, but can you not make me feel like this on purpose? It doesn’t sit right with me.”

“Duly noted and I’m sorry,” you said, eyes cast downward as you bowed your head a bit in sincere apology. “I’ll just tell you outright who and when to punch someone next time, promise!”

Jotaro paused in his tracks and with one good look at your determined sparkling eyes, couldn’t help but sigh and smile at you with uncharacteristic fondness.

“Yeah... I’d prefer that.”

[bravo4iscool]

hey hun!! i had a request idea i thought you might like <3

i loveeeee the idea of simon flirting with chubby!reader at a bar and eventually bringing them home. they start to fool around, and he brings them to his bedroom. reader suddenly flicks the lights off and simon is like ‘pardon? you don’t want me to see how gorgeous you are?’ :(( Simon turns the lights back on and makes sure reader knows they never need to turn the lights off with someone who *really* wants to be with them <3

i fainted when i first read this. THIS IS AMZING AND SO HIM, OH MY GOD AHHHHWIAZVZAUJSZAWWD.

before y‘all read this i just wanna say that i‘ve never written smut or anything (only suggestive stuff), so i‘m sorry if this maybe doesn‘t hit as hard as it should😭 i‘m still tryna pass that threshold when writing anything dirty lol.

i changed the os a bit from what the requests said but the message is still the same (i hope), so i hope you’re not too mad at me😅

fem!reader or afab!reader, strangers to lovers, one night stands, chubby!reader, insecure!reader, flirting, confident as fuck!simon, light smut (?), definitely suggestive

i’m not really happy with this but i hope you like it anyways😭 also, english isn’t my first language and i’m a virgin so, please don’t expect too much lol :)

(masterlist)

taglist - @comeonatmebruh, @yazminetrahan

REQUESTS/ASKS OPEN!!!

It was supposed to be a normal night out. You would accompany your friend and watch her get wasted, only being there to drive her home if needed. Most of the time however she found someone to go home to. You didn‘t. You just sat in the booth or at the bar, watching all the pretty girls shoot their shot.

But apparently today wasn‘t like usual. There was this man, fucking huge and build like a fridge, watching you. At first you thought he was watching your friend, like most man but even when she left he kept looking at you.

It made you uncomfortable. Really uncomfortable. He probably was just making fun of you with his friend. You were the only plus size person in the whole bar, so of course there would be at least one person making fun of you. Looks like he was the one today.

You glance at him for a couple more seconds before you decide to shake your head and concentrate on watching your friend. She was throwing down shot after shot and you were starting to get worried. Yes, she occasionally drank but never to that extent.

„Ey,“ the bartender almost yells at you over the music, pushing a cocktail towards you. You frown, shaking your head.

„I didn’t order anything.“

„I know, but he did,“ he points his head in the direction of a table and when you turn to look which table you’re met with the eyes of the mysterious man. You slightly tilt your head when he smirks at you, raising his eyebrows. You blink at him before you turn around again and take the drink.

„Tell him thank you,“ you smile at the bartender but he just shakes his head.

„I think you can do that yourself.“ He looks behind you and you turn around once again, seeing the man walk towards you. And now that he was standing at his full height you could see how massive he really was. Holy fuck, you thought. What in the world do you need to do to become that broad.

“Evenin’” he greets you as he sits down beside you, his voice gruff and deep. You smile at him with a nod, a bit confused. “You alone ‘ere?” He looks at you and you feel like you’re drowning in those eyes.

“No,” you hesitatingly say, glancing at your friend who totally randomly made her way over to you now. “I’m with her,” you force a smile as she starts to cling to you, obviously trying to flirt with him but he keeps his eyes on you.

“Ya like the drink?” His eyes wander towards your hands, playing with the rim of the glass.

“I…haven’t tried it yet.”

“Well, then maybe ya should,” he smirks. You feel blood rushing into your cheeks and your hand lifts to taste the drink when you’re interrupted by a voice.

“Hey,” your friend slurs, latching herself onto the man’s arm and batting her eyelashes at him. “You free tonight?” she i’m wants to know and you feel a knot forming in your stomach.

This was supposed to be your moment, not hers. He bought you a drink, not her.

You start fiddling with your fingers, your gaze darting around anywhere but him. Of course she would destroy this moment. She wouldn’t let you have anything would she?

“Not free t’night,” he answers, carefully pushing her off. “Hopefully,” he adds and you raise your gaze. He stares at you.

Your friend chuckles and you grimace. “You shouldn’t let her wait any longer,” you force another smile. “You can take her home.”

He tilts his head. “I bought ya a drink. Not ‘er.” That surprised you. This would be the first time someone really was interested in you and not…her. Normally you were the plan b when they couldn’t reach her. They were going through you. You expected the same of him.

And that was exactly how you and that man, his name was Simon, ended up in his hallway, making out like an inexperienced teenager couple.

Your breath is heavy as he pushes you against your door; the one you two barely made it through.

“Been watchin’ ya all night long,” he mumbles against your lips, his hands wandering over your body and squeezing your hips and waist. “Ya too good lookin’ t’ just be left alone.”

A small moan escapes your lips and you let your head fall back against the door. This was almost too much for you. When was the last time someone took you home? Lord knows when…

“Gon’ make ya feel pretty good, yea?” You can feel him smirk against your skin as he places kiss after kiss on your neck.

“Simon,” you gasp when he finds your weak spot, your knees starting to wobble. Your hands reach out for him, trying to steady yourself. That makes him smirk even more.

Oh, the power he already had over you…

Your head is dizzy and your vision almost blurry when he drags you along into his bedroom, an unknown heat pooling in your lower stomach.

You fall onto his bed like you were always meant to and your eyes widen as he crawls over you, his lips finding your as if you’d known him for years.

Your hands make their way over his shoulder to his neck, pulling him closer to you and arching your back. You need something- him.

A breathy moan rolls over your lips when he starts to unbutton your blouse and you’re afraid your heart might jump out of your chest.

His eyes are glued to your body, taking in every single curve, every single stretch mark; anything he can manage to engrave into his brain.

“Lookin’ so pretty, all f’r me,” he whispers, starting to plant kisses all over your body, which only fuels the heat in your lower body. You arch your back again, shuddering against his hands.

“Simon,” you whimper, closing your eyes for a brief second.

“Yea Sweetheart?” he chuckles, glancing up at you. His hands start to travel over your body up to your shoulders to push off your blouse. And that was the moment you felt your insecurity washing over you.

Your breath gets caught in your throat and your start to squirm. Why were you doing this right now? He couldn’t possibly really be attracted to you, could he? Did he even really look at you?

“Simon,” you say his name again, looking at him, your eyes slightly blown.

“Yes, Love?” He stops what he’s doing immediately, carefully straightening up again. “Wha‘ is it? Ya want t’ stop?” He carefully cups your cheek, trying to read your face. Did he do something wrong?

You hesitate a second before you look at him. “Can we…turn the light off?” you carefully ask, feeling exposed under his harsh but at the same time soft gaze.

“Why’s that?” He tilts his head, clearly confused. He wants to look at and admire you. So, why turn the light off? “Ya not insecure, are ya?”

You feel yourself blush at that question, trying to hide your belly with your arms but he’s faster. He gently wraps his calloused hands around your wrists and pulls your arms away. “Non’ of that, Love. Wanna see ya,” he mumbles, leaning down to kiss you again.

“How long ‘as it been since ya been with someone?” he wants to know, once again making his way down your neck.

“I…don’t know,” you stutter, swallowing. “Maybe three or, or four years.” You feel ashamed of this confession, being afraid he might laugh at you and maybe think you were pathetic but he does nothing of that.

He only pulls back from you, his eyes never leaving yours. “These men around ya must be blind f’r sure,” he shakes his head. “They g’t a whole ass mean in front of ‘em but they be just lookin’ past it.”

He now fully pulls back until he’s resting on his knees and pulls his shirt off. “Y’know why I bought ya that drink?” he asks, a smirk back on his face, and you hesitantly shake your head.

He leans down, kissing down your collar bones towards your breasts. “Bought ya that damn thing because I couldn’t get me eyes off of ya.” His mouth is vibrating against you skin as he chuckles.

A moan gets stuck in your throat and you feel your body start to tremble when he starts to pull your upper body up to strip off your blouse and bra.

“These hips were almost hypnotising t’me.” His mouth starts to get dangerously close to your breasts when he gently lays you down again. “And ya curves are what I dream of at night.”

His tongue starts to circle one of your nipples and your hands grip the sheets. How were you supposed to think straight when he was playing with your body and mind like that?

“Wouldn’t ‘ave brought ya home if I didn’t want t’ see ya.” Simon’s hand wander down your body, ready to unbutton your jeans while he glances up at you, feasting on your lustful expression.

“Ya fucking gorgeous, Love. Ya don’t need t’ hide that.” His hand slips into your panties, a smirk playing on his lips when he feels how wet you are.

When your feel Simon’s fingers slip through your folds you can’t bite back that moan. You arch your back; your insecurities long forgotten. “Simon,” you stutter, your hands once again gripping the sheets. “Please,” you whine, not even knowing what you’re asking for.

He chuckles against your skin, carefully pushing one finger in. “Look a’ ya already fallin’ apart f’r me. Beggin’ f’r me.”

You feel like you’re officially in heaven, not even noticing how he pulls the rest of your clothes off, pushing your legs apart. “Gon’ show ya how a real man should treat ya,” he promises before he goes down on you.

And god, that man was eating you out like a man almost starved to death. He holds you down by your hips, chuckling when you try to squirm away from him, too overwhelmed by the waves of pleasure that were crashing over you.

“Simon- Simon…” you feel tears glistening in your eyes. “Fu-fuck,” you cry out, your hand unconsciously reaching for his head, pulling on the dirty blond strands.

He moans against you clit, his grip around your thighs tightening. “Do that again Love. Do it again.” And you do. You pull his hair again fully unaware of the fact that his cock was throbbing in his pants, almost hurting.

But he wouldn’t focus on his pleasure, no. He would only focus on you; showing you how a real man should treat someone like you.

[meanbossart]

Hey! I was thinking of trying to write something for you about DU Drow but after a trying to gather stuff about him via your page I’m struggling to get something substantial for his personality- like I get it mostly (I think?) but it’s hard to put into words (which makes it easier for me) so if it’s not too much to ask; how would you explain DU Drows personality and maybe some of his values? - if you don’t mind! I love your art BTW!

Man, this is a tough ask and I MADE the guy. The fic is definitely the best place to see his personality in action, but it is also 20 chapters long so far - and I'm a fairly reasonable man.

Before I get to any descriptions, there's two important things to note: A) Overwhelmingly, his looks do not match his demeanor. and B) DU drow is extremely hedonistic in practice. He might claim to have certain beliefs or standards but hardly ever practices them.

Anyways, I present to you: The guy, more-or-less summarized to the best of my abilities.

BEHAVIOR: Purposefully standoffish. He wants to be noticed, but he does not want to be bothered. He's a little bit stiff with his body language and mostly makes use of head/neck gestures to assert his sentences and signal his level of interest. On that note, me makes it extremely obvious for the socially-versed individual to tell what he thinks of them - he hardly ever tries to hide if he's disinterested, annoyed, or having a laugh at your expense. He expresses emotion through his face a normal amount, but his default look is eerily bland, and subtle emotions might go unnoticed because of his eye-color and thin brows.

As it is with most people, the more uncomfortable he is with a situation the more stiff and inexpressive he becomes, and vice versa.

SPEECH: DU drow is very much well spoken, and simultaneously very blunt. He abides by most conversational formalities (definitely more formal than you would assume him to be) and basic etiquette. He will greet you and he will say please and thank you even if clearly not meaning it or feeling like you're unworthy of the gesture. Sometimes, he does it just to be patronizing.

With all of that in mind, he has a tendency to use violent turns of phrase and analogies to express himself, this applies to both negative and positive feelings. That being said he's aware of social norma and knows full well when things are or aren't appropriate, even if sometimes he chooses to ignore that and be weird anyway - usually with the purpose of intimidation.

He is the most earnest and sincere with very close friends (quite literally only Astarion and Shadowheart) and rather curt with everyone else unless you catch him in a particularly good mood. He's a little chummier with dwarves and duergar (he finds them amusing and fun to hang out with) and reserves a slight bit more tenderness and kindness for children and mothers, especially if they're elves. He's also fond of animals. He is dismissive of gnomes, goblins, bugbears, half/full orcs and hobgoblins. He despises githyanki and drow. He treats humans fairly respectfully but thinks they are a far lesser race than pretty much all others.

He has a very dark/offensive sense of humor and a tendency to make well crafted, but cruel jokes or quips about sensitive topics. This goes for everybody, including people he's on good terms with.

VALUES: Here's where things get tricky. DU drow is both a hypocrite and a unreliable narrator of his own story, not to mention deeply unfamiliar with his own inner-workings and feelings. Politically, he would be the guy who doesn't vote, doesn't want to pay taxes and dreams of living off the grid, who thinks everybody should pull themselves up by the bootstraps and that it's a dog-eats-dog world. He hates systems of government, authority figures, hierarchical structures and archaic customs. He believes it would a chaotic but functional world if people governed themselves.

In practice, he doesn't stand for anything and gladly overlooks injustices and things that don't align with his supposed values as long as they favor him, or just don't get in his way, and easily makes exceptions for things on a whim. He's indifferent to slavery; unless it's Astarion's. - He thinks humans are a worthless pet-race, except for his dearest and nearest friend, the half-elf Shadowheart. He thinks Half-orcs are intellectually inferior, but he will gladly be chummy with them if they amuse him and make for good-company during a night-out.

INNER WORLD AND INTIMACY: DU drow is extremely unfamiliar with his own emotions and very often comes up empty when he has to justify or explain anything that is based on feeling, while simultaneously operating on impulse and instinct for the vast majority of the time. He is subject to fear, resentment, and insecurity as much as anyone else, but carries a deep shame in acknowledging his own vulnerability at all. He is very intense when it comes to love, however, and shows no reluctance in expressing it through his words and actions towards the people he cares about. He does care for the levels of comfort of those dearest to him though, and doesn't bombard them with it unless the moment is right, or if overwhelmed into doing so. The same applies to physical affection - he's extremely comfortable with it, but cares deeply for respecting the boundaries of his loved ones. When it comes to strangers, he only touches them outside of combat if there is some kind of power-game at play.

A couple of other things that might be of note:

-He likes creature comforts, but is also fine with going without them and won't ever complain about having to live, sleep, or survive in less-than-ideal circumstances as long as he feels in control of the situation. -He can be enticed by valuables and gold because they make the immediate future easier, but he doesn't seek a life of vast riches. -He is not an alcoholic but probably has a binge-drinking problem. -While he is fond and respectful of animals, he has no issues killing them if the situation calls for it. -He pretty much always believes himself to be the most impressive person in the room. -He is not a vain man, but very much likes the way that he looks and to have it be acknowledged by his partner. -He believes faith, religion, and gods to be a waste of time.

[nylloth]

My opinion about Arcane s2 (mostly Viktor)

I'm trying to be neutral on this, but I'm upset with what they did to Viktor.

I was wrong about their relationship with Sky (but I had hope), you can see he never really cared for her and the animators put their all into conveying that. Plus, let's say Sky represents Viktor's humanity and Viktor himself gives up on her. And it's a lot easier for him to give her up than it is for Jayce, who he's trying to show this new “world” to.

They have a lot of gay moments with Jayce, I don't know why the writers call it “family”. It's really hard to see family in that. It seems like at some point they decided to change the plot, because at the end Jayce and Viktor just disappear and no one just doesn't care what Jayce has with Mel.

The thing I didn't like the most was how they changed Ryze, that now Ryze is Viktor, the all-powerful mage. We know from the documentary that it was Ryze at one point. That would make more sense than Viktor traveling through time and constantly dooming himself to a series of miseries. But then again, they added the “all for Jayce” aspect to it.

You can see it's supposed to be a different character, right?

I really didn't like how they treated Sky because obviously she wasn't an evil manipulative core. Viktor killed her twice for his own purposes. Once by accident, the second time on purpose. Look, you add a girl who is IN LOVE with a man, make her die twice for him, and show WHY he doesn't care. It's a dirty act. Amanda said she was “proud to write Sky”, I don't know what there is to be proud of. As a woman, it was painful for me to watch. You didn't have to do that. Did you mean to say the character is gay? You don't have to humiliate women to do that.

I always hoped Viktor wouldn't have any romantic innuendos because feelings, for Herald, are a weakness. But the fact that they're indulging JayVik fans makes it look NOTHING like that. Like, I'm not a fan of this ship, but even I don't consider what they showed as brotherly feelings. Especially from Viktor's side. He is literally too concerned with Jayce's opinion.

I also think that the writers largely emphasized the clips and fights, but didn't add to the story itself. I mean Silco's deep thoughts in the first season on political topics and the theme of family in general was shown much better.

Herald is essentially non-existent. It's a character for the last two episodes who is immediately killed off because of a few words from Jayce. Viktor returns and they vaporize somewhere. I take it this is starting a recurring time loop.

They kind of tried to put in Viktor's “here he's come to the realization on his own that humanity is bad”, but they did it SO FAST and literally because of one event that it looked bad. Yeah, it's not about hexcore. VIKTOR SUPPOSEDLY CAME TO THIS ON HIS OWN. Why? Because Jayce shot him, and then Jayce helped him realize otherwise. No, really, what was that?

I also didn't like the redesign. I was hoping the mask would look different, but it looks HORRIBLE.

It's supposed to give the impression that Viktor “shut down and withdrew into himself”, they also tried to make him a “deity”, but since it only lasted 20 minutes before he went back to his normal state, it didn't make any sense… Anyway… I sympathize with everyone who loved Viktor specifically, outside jayvik ship (happy for you guys). I know they are excited, but this is not Viktor's story. You see, Viktor doesn't have his own personal story now, he's too connected to Jayce. You could say he did everything and nothing at the same time. Because he keeps running this time loop, but he's running it because of Jayce's influence.

Waiting for his updated lore to read….. idk I'll read it and forget it like a bad dream.

[synthetickitsune]

To Save The World ✧ h.js

Pairing: Joshua Hong x gn!reader Genre: angst Summary: Joshua made his choice. Now he has to commit to it. The world must go on. And for that, he has to make you go. Word count: 1.6k Warnings: blood, knives, reader dies A/N: inspired by @chugging-antiseptic-dye's post here bcs you can't say "joshua slitting your throat" and expect me to be normal, and also it's highly recommended to read this as well

The night falls. The stars twinkle above, yet the light seems dimmed. The world must be asleep. Perhaps it might be as kind as to close its eyes to what he’s about to do. If there’s one thing the world’s always been good at, afterall, it’s turning away from those who need its help the most. There's a duty to them that he always carried on his shoulders. He’s always tried to make up for what the universe couldn’t do. Now that he’s in need of help, however, who will save him? 

He never thought that burden would eventually end up being his own demise.

Joshua’s breath comes out as thin clouds that soon evaporate into nothingness. Just the same as him. Every breath is a thought, a memory, a part of him. He wills them to be. He needs to send them all off, so that he can at least hope to be saved one day. He hopes the wind can carry all of him far enough that he won’t be tainted. 

He spent what felt like hours standing under scalding water. As if filth can be washed ahead of time. 

Anyway. 

Washed as best as he could make it and free of all scent, he feels naked. A blank sheet. Now all that’s left is to cleanse himself of himself. Not a man, but a hero. A fragile puppet dancing however fate and duty pull its strings. Empty. To be filled again with a different substance. Transformed. A copy of himself only on the outside.

The cold makes him feel frozen in time. If it doesn’t start ticking again soon, he will surely lose his mind. But perhaps that’s an option he’d gladly take. There is little chance of that happening soon enough, though. No, it’s not going to happen until it’s too late.

He hears lone footsteps slowly approaching. Bile rises up his throat. He closes his eyes and takes a couple of long, deep breaths. He tries to keep them even. To keep the tremors out of his breathing at least. He can’t be heard. He has to keep standing but his knees can barely support him. If only the darkness of the alley could swallow him. If only the wall behind his back could turn into goo. Trap him like an insect in tree sap. Keep him trapped in amber so that everyone could witness his cowardice that even outweighs the sin he’s about to commit.

‘Hero’ is a funny world. A joke.

In the end, he couldn’t save everyone. Forget everyone. Just one person.

The sound gets closer. Have you always walked with a skip in your step when you were rushing home to him? The bile again. His stomach twists. He has to force himself to swallow. The street remains empty. Everything else aside, Joshua can’t let anyone see his face ever again. He won’t ever look at his face again. His hands feel clammy. He can’t breathe. He can’t—

The knife almost slips from his hand. He only sees your side profile for a split second. He can’t double over. Not now. He’s already a coward hiding in the shadows. So it feels like a cruel joke, the sight that his eyes let him see. It’s like the clouds part and you’re suddenly bathed in moonlight. Are the stars taking you before he can? He only has fractions of a second to pray it is so. To hope his hands will pass right through you. That the moon saves you and cradles you in its cold silver arms.

It’s with practiced ease that he reaches from his hiding spot. It’s with hard-earned skill and speed that he grabs you and pulls you back into the shadows, away from the light that exposes his weakness. He ensnares you in the darkness with him before you can make a sound or register what’s happening.

With tender strength he holds you against his chest. His arm wraps around your waist perfectly, pinning your arms to your sides. It should be like this. You belong with him. He should always hold you. What does heaven have that lying with you, your head above his heart and his arms around you doesn’t provide? Your body fits against his like you were made for him. And lately he believes you were, just to make your fate that much crueler. To start his punishment long before he knew he’s going to be punished.

You can’t make a sound with his hand covering your mouth. He wishes you could. Blame him. Hate him. (Love him.) Your struggling is useless. He’s always been stronger than you. Could always easily pin you down. Why can’t you pout about it now? (Please hit his chest. Please call him mean. Please laugh and pull him down for a kiss.)

Your efforts double when the glint of the blade catches your eye. He has already messed up. He shouldn’t have held you one last time. It comes so naturally to him, though. Instincts can’t be overridden. He had to. He tries to make his voice deeper, unrecognizable. To his own ears he doesn’t sound like himself when he shushes you. You sound every bit like yourself when you whimper. (Can’t he hold you tighter? Can’t he pull the blanket over you like he’s always done and shield you from the rest of the world?)

In his memories, it’s always your hair, your cheeks that he caresses. Your lip under his thumb. As he moves his hand lower though, he discovers that the skin on the vulnerable column of your throat is surprisingly soft too. (Did he not explore your body enough? Will this be one more regret to haunt him day and night?) Your breathing, your heartbeat, he can feel it all with his touch. It’s so fast. Like the little bunny’s that you promised to adopt with him. The one you won’t make a half-orphan because you never brought it home. Your eyes look like prey animal’s caught in a trap too.

His thumb strokes over your windpipe. You deserve that. You deserve something more intimate. You deserve something warmer than the cold steel of the knife. You deserve him. Not a stranger.

But he can’t. He’s a coward. His strength isn’t as tender now. It’s desperate. He doesn’t want to let go. You don’t make a sound.

(Please whine. Please tell him to let go. Please call him clingy. Please tell him to let you hug him too.)

His hand stops before it can dip under your shirt. His fingertips barely brush against your collarbone. How selfish he can be. You must be so scared - a stranger holding you, a stranger touching you. Joshua knows if it was him you saw holding a knife so close to your face, you wouldn’t be scared at all. 

(Smile at him. See him.)

As if sensing his hesitation, you move. Just one lone, weak attempt to break free. Just a jolt of an animal that doesn’t wish to be pet.

He leans his head against yours. (Hurt him. Do it. Please.) You stay still. For a blink of an eye that lasts an eternity, you settle and relax. Like he’s holding you while you cook dinner. Like he’s comforting you after a long day. Like you’re watching the storm outside from the warmth of your home. Like he’s saying goodbye.

Like you know what’s coming.

It’s with an order, an impulse to his nerves that doesn’t, that can’t have, come from his own brain and free will that the knife in his sweaty palm turns. Your breathing picks up more. The blade presses against the side of your throat and he—

Joshua!

The shriek pierces the silence of the night.

It rains. Crimson splatters on the ground.

But all he hears is your voice.

Did you recognize him and called his name in shock? Betrayal? Understanding?

Were you calling him for help?

Did you want his name to be your last word?

The knife clatters on the ground with echoes of his name, of your voice. Nothing else is real.

His hand clutches your throat and presses against it with force. He’s trying to pull the split tissue together but it won’t listen and the blood keeps pouring.

The warmth encompassing his hands must be your hands grabbing his. Slipping your fingers between his.

You’re just standing in the shower. It’s hot water rolling down your bodies. You’ll laugh. You’ll scold him for simply holding you instead of washing up.

What’s the point if his hands are forever dyed red.

No shower will ever be enough.

And your life keeps trickling down his fingers and pooling under his feet.

He collapses with you.

His head falls, forehead resting against yours.

(Look at him.)

He holds you like you’re dancing. Your silly wish to look at him after he twirls you. To lean back into his arms and look up at him.

So look at him. 

There’s nothing interesting to see at the back of your skull.

He sobs, but he only hears your voice. Only feels the claws of guilt and pain tearing at his throat from the inside.

Did you know? Could you tell he held you? Did you know you’re not alone? That you don’t have to be scared? 

Look at him. 

Tell him.

The world did not end with a bang. Nor with a whimper. The world did not end at all that night.

But there, in a dark alley where blood pools on the cobblestone, a life and a soul were crushed to save it. 

[sxftkxssxs]

How would the main5 reader being related to Lucio? As I would have a field day with that information

I tried to balance lighthearted and serious thoughts in this one, it likely doesn't come across as well as I'm seeing it at the moment since it is late.

I hope you enjoy anyways!

Asra

Asra is appalled by this information.

You, the absolute love of his life, who was killed, albeit indirectly, by Lucio, are related to him? That's fucked up.

He's absolutely not happy. Lucio's somehow managed to screw with every part of Asra's life. His parents, Muriel, and his partner.

If you decide to play protagonist and try to make everyone get along, they'll tease Lucio to hell and back five times over with this.

It does not help that Lucio doesn't like Asra the most. Why'd his relative pick the worst one?!

He holds it over Lucio's head the rest of his life. He'll find so many ways to say the same thing over and over again.

"This is karma for throwing my parents in the magical realms."

Julian

Yikes, this one is a little hard to grasp for me.

He'll likely make some sort of joke or jab at the information but don't be fooled. He's processing.

He decides he doesn't really know what to feel, except for a reasonable amount of lingering anger, like any normal person would.

Lucio force-fed him a plague beetle, they aren't exactly on, "sorry we cool?" terms.

If you don't mind that you're related to Lucio he'll tease you about it, if not he'll leave it alone.

He's not gonna be very happy go lucky with him, but with you he's all teasing, especially if you indulge in his scheming.

Nadia

This woman cannot get a break, can she?

She's internally trying to see the resemblance but her ability to depends on your personality.

If you're an absolute menace to the living breathing world, she absolutely sees it. If not, she's at a loss for how the two could possibly be from the same family tree.

She doesn't see you or your relationship any differently, whatever she had with Lucio is in the very far past, but Lucio is throwing a fit.

Why are you with HIS ex-wife?? MC??? Hey! He's talking to you, MC!

Muriel

Yeah, no. sorry.

We all have to remember what that man put Muriel through. Muriel obviously held every single action that happened in that colosseum against Lucio. As he should!!

If we're talking about early Muriel he's immediately running from the MC. Get away, shoo!

If we decide to talk about late or even post-upright Muriel, we can have a different outcome.

He'll be upset, confused, and likely very apprehensive. Inanna is there as a bridge between the both of you.

He doesn't want to see you any differently, and he doesn't. But how can one relative be the absolute worst person to grace the earth and the other be the best thing to ever happen to him?

Portia

She's surprisingly only slightly bugged about it.

That is the man who force-fed her brother a beetle and gave him the red plague.

But if her brother can put it in the past then she supposes she can too. (But you can swear she gives Lucio the nastiest look when he isn't looking..?)

She still has some trouble fully letting it go, but instead of a full on grudge its more like when your friend doesn't pay something back. She'll just bring it up every once in a while.

Teases you about being considered royalty, even if Lucio isn't count anymore.

Lucio

He's having a field day, greatest day of his life even! He's sorta got a mini him!

...Until you start out-menacing him, even if its only in certain ways.

who knew that ran in the family tree? Morga is losing her mind in the background

[eustasskidagenda]

Hi, I dunno if it's the case or not, but maybe u have some pegging HCs for Sanji, Kidd, Law & Ace, I'm so obsessed with this kink orz. Tyyy! Anon or not, I don't mind.

Hello! I must admit it was quite challenging to write this, because I never thought about how they would act in this situation. I tried not to detail that much for Kid bc I also have to write an OS with Kid+pegging and I'll develop more of my thoughts in this fic. Anyway, I hope the result will match your expectations, thank you for requesting. ☆

☆Pegging HCs for Sanji, Kid, Law & Ace

CW : g/n reader, MDNI, smut, pegging, Kid is cursing obviously, oral sex (Sanji receiving), rough sex, gentle sex, hair pulling, rimming (Sanji, Law receiving) , fingering (Sanji , Law,  Ace, receiving), slight dirty talk, praises. Let me know if I forgot something

WC : 1,9k

Sanji

Well, it's Sanji we're talking about. As long as you don't ask him a threesome with Zoro or to inflict you any kind of pain, he's willing to try and do everything for the sake of making you smile. He doesn't care about what people think and say.

Please, don't go for the biggest size, he has never done that before. He will choose it with you, just to make sure it’s the perfect size. He's likely a little agitated because he's a huge soft boy, but it's fine, he trusts you. 

"Are you sure the door is locked?" 

There's no way for him to be caught.

Sanji is fond of holding your hands, kissing you softly, and looking at you with pure adoration in his eyes, even when he's rough. He expects you to do the same. Take your time to explore his entire body. Kiss his neck, run your fingers through his hair, feel the softness of his hair, and squish on his nipples. That's what causes shivers to run down his spine.

Prepare yourself to hear the most delightful moans and whines when you begin to stroke his cock while rimming and fingering his hole. Sanji is a whiny mess; he just can't control how good it actually feels. His cock is hard, almost painfully hard as he praises you for the good job you're doing. 

If you ask him, he prefers to see your face and eyes, but if you want, he doesn't mind being on all fours or whatever. 

Please let him rest on his back, with his beautiful, strong legs wrapped around your waist. He will ask you to hold his hand, fingers tightly entwined as you start to push the dildo  covered of lube inside him. Imagine him moaning loudly with completely red cheeks as he indulges in a whole world of new sensations. It feels so good, he can't help but start begging for more, harder, and faster. The feeling of your skin against his, your wet kisses, gentle touch, and firm grip on his legs or hips is too much for this poor man. "Plus fort, je t'en prie." (Harder, please) Will come fast and hard.

During the aftercare, you have to keep him back from running into the kitchen to cook something for you. Just hold him tightly and hug/praise him for how good he was. He needs reassurance and to make sure you had a good time too.

And then, he'll run into the kitchen anyway.

Kid

Kid is not against pegging. He's being portrayed as a punk, and punks like nonconformism. So maybe the society is not really open-minded about pegging, but Kid doesn't give a damn. If he wants to do something, then he'll do it. He doesn't believe in gender roles. 

However, Kid cares way too much about his reputation and he knows it could ruin all his notoriety, so he really has to trust you to let you peg him. It will only happen after a certain time in your relationship because Kid is slow to both open-up and offer his trust: he has been betrayed so many times, he's just unable to take his guard off immediately.

You better take the bigger size, he's not a pussy. If you try to choose a normal or less size, he's so pissed off. "You really think I can't take it? Ugh, fuck off, I won’t do it."

It doesn't matter if you're pegging him: he's still the same stubborn hot-headed mess. If you give him an order, he'll get mad. You should use your hands to gently guide him if you need him to spread his legs or roll onto his stomach because words won't work. Like "Kid, please spread your legs" And his only answer is an angry scowl and low grunt. But if you use your hands then… he’ll comply.

And let's say the view is quite interesting, because Kid is named Eust-ass for a reason. His booty is incredibly juicy. It's a gift to see his beautiful body being offered to you. He probably prefers lying on his back because he rarely uses his robotic limb in bed. It's easier to stay still or just breathe if he can remain on his back.

"Ugh, I don't need lube, nor rimming, nor fingering, I'm not a wimp"

He’s a liar. Please use lube.

Kid is the king of low grunts, growls, and shaky breath whenever he fucks you. If you peg him, if it feels too good, maybe you'll hear him moaning. Moans that are really low and husky.  Do not dare make a comment about his moans, or you'll never hear them again.

He likes rough sex, so go ahead and bite him or pull on his hair. He will secretly enjoy it. As he loves leaving marks on your body, he also likes when you do the same. But do not dare to humiliate him by calling him a good pet, slut, or whatever because it is not okay in his book. No one can humiliate him and if you try, the mood is just ruined. Do not try to control his orgasm or whatever. His only answer would be to show you his manicured middle finger.

If you start to praise him for how amazing his ass is or how well he's taking you, he gets totally flustered. If he's lying on his back with his hair spread out around the pillow, you can take a look at his red cheeks in embarrassment. "Shut up."

When he's all flustered and flushed, he's so cute. He's just not used to being praised, so he doesn't know how to react.

Regardless, rest assured that he will enjoy every second of this moment. He feels nervous at the end because he can't help but overthink the idea of being betrayed. Just reassure him and he'll let you rest your head on his chest.

And sure, he'll make sure to fuck you hard later. Whatever you give it to him, he will give it to you harder.

Law

Well, Law is a little more complicated. Sure, he's not totally against the whole idea, but as Kid, he's really slow to open up, and winning his trust is not an easy task. Of course, he knows where his prostate is. He's not stupid and is perfectly aware of how the anatomy works. He's literally a doctor. But that doesn't change the fact that he's aloof and distrustful. 

The first time you talk about your fantasies of pegging him, it's too sudden and off guard, so the answer is automatically "no." He can't take a decision without taking some time to think about it. After that, he becomes somewhat suspicious. To take things slowly is the best thing you can do. Don't rush him or he won't accept.

The idea will slowly but surely make its way through his mind. Of course, you don't know what's going on in his mind. 

(If you wanna know : he's searching for the perfect dildo without telling you anything.)

One day, you're in bed together and he suddenly shows you the dildo he bought. "Hey, y/n-ya, do you still want to try this thing called pegging?" 

He is secretly hoping that you forget about your fantasies.

When you say 'yes', he thinks he's totally doomed, but it's fine. He's willing to at least try. 

Law is completely flustered if you ask him to lay on his back. He will always turn his head to avoid crossing your gaze. Imagine him with soft red cheeks. And if he is on his stomach or on all fours, maybe he will feel a little more comfortable and relaxed because you can't see his reactions. Despite this, he's also nervous because he's unable to closely observe what you're doing. And this man is so stressed, he likes to have the control all the time. 

"Don't forget the lube y/n-ya.", "you know, even if it's a toy, you have to put a condom on" He can't help but guide you. He must feel in control even in this situation, otherwise, he will overthink and you will never be able to enter even one finger inside him.

Ho honestly wants to 'room, shambles' and disappear while you trace his tattoos with your fingers, pinch his nipples, and leave a trail of hot kiss along his happy trail. Law is always tensed and stressed, so he needs a lot of gentle touch to relax enough. The best thing you can do for him is to suck his cock while fingering him, or even rimming. He's so embarrassed, but it feels good. He can't lie.

When you finally enter him, he doesn't moan or grow, he's all about low, deep, husky breaths. It feels good, the toy is hitting his g-spot with each thrust. The moment you glance at him, he wants to bury his head under the pillow. His hair is messy and he is beautiful, with his eyes flashing of both annoyance and pleasure. 

"Does it feel good to be fucked in the ass?" 

Law.exe has ceased to function.

He's going to end up with his legs wrapped around your waist, pressing his feet against your back to force you to move faster and harder. You can sense his legs shaking with pleasure. If you play with his nipples or stroke his cock, it's over, he won't hold back.

Again, he's so embarrassed with his belly covered in his own semen. He just wants to disappear. And he would never admit he loved every single one from this moment. 

If you want to peg him again, you'll have to take the initiative. 

"Ugh fine, y/n-ya, we can do it again." He'll pretend to be doing a great favor to you (he's a great actor).

Ace

Ace, like Sanji, is willing to try almost anything for you because he's a sweetheart. Actually, the only problem is that he doesn't know what 'pegging' means. His first reaction is to ask Marco what it means, as he doesn't want to look foolish in front of you. As soon as he knows, well... 

"Hey y/n, you want to peg me?" Out of nowhere, in the middle of the dinner. He's impulsive, he can't keep his thoughts to himself, so hey, deal with it.

No matter what you ask, he will do it. But don't choose the biggest size because poor Ace can't figure out how something that big could fit inside his body.

Ace is playful, so what's going to happen is not a big deal for him. He wants to laugh with you while you put your strap on, and will make random comments while you thrust your fingers in and out his ass. "Remember when I burst into flames the first time we fucked? Hope it won't again."

Damn, you hope as well.

He's a cutie with his freckled cheeks completely red.

As your figure looms over his body, he can't help but think you're absolutely beautiful. He feels so lucky to have you by his side and to feel comfortable with you. How could a good thing happen to him? He is not worthy of you. His eyes are filled with pure admiration and love for you. And a spark of amusement, obviously.

Loud moans, he doesn't care if he's being noisy. Hair is totally messy on the pillow. Shaking legs and shaky breaths.

His voice is beautiful and soft as he moans.

If you give it to him harder, his cock will remain painfully hard.

Of course, he is capable of controlling his DF, but the sensations are too unfamiliar and overwhelming." Whoops, I burned the bedsheets" with a cute laugh. That was your favorite bedsheet, but you can't be mad at him, he's so adorable.

Will ask you the permission to cum because he's a good boy. 

And totally willing to be pegged again. 

Ace's goofiness will make Marco know everything. "Marco, I did this thing called 'pegging' and it's amazing. Have you already given this a shot? You should try!"

Poor Marco, leave him alone, he cares about his privacy.

[kurishiri]

95K┊Dark If —Harrison Gray—

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ notice ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

— the 95k story for dark if (part 1), featuring harry. i think it is “required reading” to understand the world of this event, but they set it as the 95k bonus story, so i'm translating it. please note this does not necessarily have a happy end.

— cw: mentions of murder and death, angst.

Every story had an established plot, so to speak.

For example, in Cinderella, the prince fell in love at first sight with Cinderella, and they lived happily ever after.

Or if we took Snow White, the kiss from the prince would awaken her, and then they lived happily ever after.

‘It’s boring if everything goes as planned?’ That’s fine, since it’s the type of story most people want.

But, I wonder when this all went down...when did this fairytale world start to become so twisted?

And also, what had to have gone down for me to end up in this role of guiding the keyman to this world and through those twists?

Tonight, once again, the keyman who had wandered into this fairytale world tried to run away, returning to reality.

In other words, they were not the keyman, but rather they just happened to get caught up in all of this.

Victor: It seems this time as well, they were unable to find the missing thing.

Harrison the Lying Fox: They’ll just think of it all as a bad dream and forget about it anyway.

H: Besides...

Victor: ‘It’s best to quickly forget about this world and live in reality’?

This mysterious man named Victor, who wandered this world, had a shrewd look as he smiled, and as usual, such a look irritated me.

Just when I thought of throwing even a single insult his way, I heard the sound of footsteps.

(Ahh, here we go again...)

(Someone was ‘summoned’ by this world.)

Victor: Oh, where are you headed off to? There’s a guest here.

Harrison the Lying Fox: I’ll look from afar. There’s not much point in talking face to face anyway.

Victor: I see. Then do as you like.

——And then, the footsteps gradually grew louder, until they stopped.

Victor: Welcome to the twisted fairytale world...

V: A guest has come~~ Yippeee~~!

There stood a figure, petrified from what looked like anxiety.

Kate: Um, where... I... just now I was at the bookstore, and...

(Oh jeez... she’s so frightened.)

Kate: Uhm, I’m in the middle of my letter carrier duties. So I would like to return to Kingsley Books...

Victor: Now that may be a bit difficult.

Kate: Huh?

Victor’s explanation, something he had repeated thousands of times over, flowed smoothly.

How he selfishly wanted her to find the ‘missing thing’ in the fairytale world.

And then, the one named Kate was sent to the twisted fairytale world in order to find that very thing.

Victor: Harrison. Are you going to take a peek into the story?

Harrison the Lying Fox: You can stop with the act. I know you know as well that I’ve got no choice but to.

The lying fox was always a despised presence within a fairy tale.

And that was the role I bore. It was my fate to spend my life serving this world so that it could return to normal.

(I can freely traverse through any fairytale world.)

(But if I were to flip a coin on it, it would mean I would never be able to become a character in any fairy tale.)

Despite the fact I was bearing this troublesome fate, I myself couldn’t correct any of these stories... it was ironic.

Victor: Well then, have a good time. May you find the best happy end this time.

—— Traversing... ——

Kate: I’m... Cinderella?

Having been sent to the world of Cinderella, Kate wasted little time in starting her search for the missing thing.

She was trying so hard I couldn’t help but feel fed up.

But——

Stepmother: It’s because of children like you that my own girls don’t get chosen by the prince!

Kate: P-please stop...

Stepmother: You...someone like you...!

So that one of her own children would become the prince’s fiancée, the stepmother schemed and killed Kate.

Once again, this fairy tale reached a bad end.

And then, Kate was taken back to reality from the fairytale world.

—— In reality ——

Kate: Huh? I... what was I doing again?

K: ...I feel as though I was sleeping for a long time...

I had come to realize in the long time I had been observing that if a keyman were to die in the fairytale world and reach a bad end,

they would be forcefully returned to reality like this.

And——all of what happened in that world would be wiped clean from their memories.

But, in most cases, their bodies would still remember, and they would leave, as though to run away.

It was like they were saying they didn’t want to see a bad dream again.

(Alright now, you get out of here quickly too.)

(Go back to that peaceful everyday life filled with normalcy.)

Kate: ………

After standing up with a bit of a wobble, Kate once again reached for the fallen book.

(………Huh? What in the world are you doing?)

And then, as if trying her best to remember something precious, she furrowed her brows,

and then, once again, Kate was sucked into the book like she was being summoned by it.

Harrison the Lying Fox: Wh——you idiot.

And so, Kate — once again — found herself repeating the same exchange with Victor,

landing in the world of Alice in Wonderland.

In this world, the bell signifying the Queen of Heart’s judgment resonated.

Kate: I’m looking for the missing thing in this world.

K: That is, the thing that’s lacking in the world. If that is——a peaceful life...

Liam the Cheshire Cat: Then you wouldn’t want to approach the Queen of Hearts. Well, all is up to you, Alice.

And so, Kate once again tried so hard to find the missing thing, it was laughable.

(Why do you feel the need to go so far?)

(...Ah, jeez, if you get hurt again that’s all on you.)

This time, in this story as well, Kate was unable to find the missing thing.

And, never learning from what had happened, she would continue to choose this cycle.

Over, and over again, she would roam within these twisted fairy tales.

At one time, she was Snow White.

But, she was killed by a foreign prince named Natalia, who was aiming to conquer the country that Queen Elbert ruled, covering for him.

And at another time, she was Sleeping Beauty.

She was cursed by a fairy to ‘prick her finger on a spinning wheel ten years later, triggering the curse,’

but before that time, she had passed away from an illness.

Such events would repeat themselves, over and over again.

And, over and over again, I would watch over Kate.

Today as well, Kate was in a twisted fairytale world, continuing her search.

At this point, I couldn’t bring myself to care about what fairy tale she was in.

It was just watching over her was my job.

Today, it had been raining in this forest nonstop since the morning, and Kate’s shoulders grew more soaked.

When I saw her body trembling in the cold, I couldn’t bear it...

——And, for the first time, I approached Kate.

Without an utterance, I held an umbrella above her.

Kate: ...?

Harrison the Lying Fox: The rain won’t stop for a while. Wanna come in?

Kate: T-thank you?

Harrison the Lying Fox: Haha, why phrase it like a question?

Kate: Um... can I ask who you are?

(My name...)

Harrison the Lying Fox: That kind of thing doesn’t really matter, does it. Since we’re going to be parting ways when the rain stops anyway.

Kate: Is that so. Yes... I suppose so...

Kate looked a bit lonely, before thanking me again.

Under a single umbrella, I looked up at the sky, the rain falling non-stop.

(I hate the rain.)

(...But, just for today, I wouldn’t mind if it never stopped.)

(Because, then I can be together with you... for just a little longer.)

The ‘thanks’ from Kate made a strange warmth seep into my heart.

And then, once again, Kate was killed in the fairy tale.

While I’d seen her die countless times, for some reason, this time made me feel a pang in my heart for the first time.

—— Time skip ——

Victor: Oh my, Harrison. It’s not every day I see you here.

Harrison the Lying Fox: Could you stop this already?

Victor: ...I take it this is about Kate?

Harrison the Lying Fox: .........

Victor: That, I can’t do.

Harrison the Lying Fox: And why’s that?

Victor: Because, for some reason, Kate herself ends up choosing to come back here over and over. This is a first for me as well.

V: And I find myself thinking, about Kate...

Harrison the Lying Fox: What about her? Hurry and say it already.

Victor: Perhaps she may be the true keyman?

V: Harrison? Where are you headed?

Harrison the Lying Fox: ...To Kate.

Victor: I see... do be careful.

Kate was in the world of Cinderella, like she was the first time.

Tonight, Kate was participating in the ball, and she must introduce herself to the prince.

She had a fairy godmother alter her appearance, and I thought she looked more beautiful than any of the other participants here.

That was no lie, either, since the eyes of any who passed by would be taken by her.

But, Kate, the gentle soul she was, could not bring herself to approach the prince directly.

(Ahh... if she doesn’t speak up, he’ll get stolen by other women.)

(Jeez, always making more work for me.)

I quietly approached, and I dropped an empty glass from a table right adjacent to Kate,

causing a shattering sound to resonate through the dance hall, and everyone in the venue turned their attention on Kate.

Kate: Ah, wh—? Me? I-I’m so sorry...

(Look over there, the prince has finally noticed you.)

Prince: Um, are you hurt anywhere?

When I confirmed the prince had reached out to Kate, I left the venue.

After all, a lying fox was hardly suited for such a place.

I descended the long staircase myself.

(I don’t think that would be enough to change the course of the story.)

(Kate, go and find the missing thing. This time, for sure.)

When I wished for this, a bitter feeling bloomed in my chest, as though I had bitten on sand.

(I see, if Kate were to find a happy ending, I would no longer be needed.)

Before I knew it, I had watched over Kate for quite a while.

At some point, Kate had already become a part of my everyday.

(——What am I saying, with something so out of character like how a farewell would be lonely.)

Trying to shake off these conflicting emotions, I continued to walk, when...

Kate: Uhm...

(...Kate?)

When I turned around, I saw Kate running down, holding the hem of her dress up as she did.

(...What happened with the prince?)

(Why’s she chasing after me?)

Many words welled up in my throat, but I pushed them all down.

After all, in Kate’s memory, I was not there.

Harrison the Lying Fox: Did you need something?

Kate: Ah, um...

Harrison the Lying Fox: ...?

Kate: Have... we met somewhere before, by any chance...?

Harrison the Lying Fox: ......... (O_O)

Kate’s eyes pierced through me, like she was begging for the truth.

We stared at each other for several seconds, which felt more like an eternity.

But, the one who broke it first was me.

Harrison the Lying Fox: Who knows. It’s probably just you.

(It’s alright. I’m good at telling lies.)

Kate: I...see. Sorry about that, for saying something so strange. Please forget it.

Kate put up a forced smile before she returned from where she came.

And I, much like a fool, couldn’t take my eyes off of her back.

(Hey, Kate. Having watched over you all this time, I’ve come to realize something.)

The ‘missing thing’ that Kate had always been searching for in these fairytale worlds...

(That is——the protagonist.)

(Kate. You yourself are the missing thing in its truest form.)

Had Kate followed her own heart, choosing a path to become happy,

I was sure the twisted fairy tale would reach its end.

But, when I tried to tell Kate,

Harrison the Lying Fox: Gugh, hah... gh...

Something seemed to stop words from forming in my voice.

And, as though mocking at this eternal, twisted fate from afar, the clock struck twelve.

Harrison the Lying Fox: .........

(I can’t become your prince, nor can I become your lover.)

(And, someday, you may end up finding your happy end.)

(But... for now... even if it’s just this moment——)

Harrison the Lying Fox: Hey, you there. ...Heading that way could spell out danger, you know?

Kate: And you are?

Harrison the Lying Fox: Who knows. More importantly, where are you planning to go?

(...Let me watch over you, while holding the key of this secret in my hand.)

That night, as strange as it was, I had a dream.

In my fairy tale, one that remained without a name to call it, Kate suddenly appeared and said——

Kate: Harrison!

Harrison the Lying Fox: How do you know my name?

Kate: Of course I know. Because I’ve always been searching for you.

Harrison the Lying Fox: ......... (O_O)

Kate: ...Harrison, I like you. Would you become my happy end?

(Ahh... I see now.)

(So this is the most convenient dream for me.)

A bitter, yet unbearably sweet feeling blossomed in my heart.

(If this isn’t a reality, then I won’t have to lie anymore, right?)

I touched Kate’s wrist, and then brought her in an embrace.

(That’s right, I had always... wanted to hug you like this.)

Harrison the Lying Fox: Me too.

H: I’ve always wanted to reach the best end with you, too.

(Kate, I no longer want to see you crying.)

(I think you’re much better suited with a carefree smile.)

Harrison the Lying Fox: Kate. I like you.

I wished that time could stop, just a little bit longer,

for while this momentary dream was fleeting, I had never had seen a better one before.

Fin.

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