#I feel v strongly about this stuff

[godtier]

had to add to this:

younger users are so very focused on everything they do having distinct "morality," as if life was a mass effect dialogue exchange where there's an obvious "paragon" (good) and "renegade" (bad) choice clearly outlined at all times.

here's what I think contributes to that:

having no concept of blocking accounts on platforms that don't focus on algorithm-driven content (such as tumblr). don't like smth? no problem, just click "I don't like this" or "show me less content like this" and your feed will be saved! if they can't do that, their first instinct isn't to just block the person or account. it's to preach to them as to why their content is "harmful, actually." they don't like it, they're used to the apps tailoring content for them, why are they seeing this thing they don't like? clearly someone is gaming the algorithm to spam porn or something. therefore, they must be a degen. this is not to say they don't block ppl at all, it just seems more common to block as a result of a bad encounter or by being told by a third party that the other user deserves to be blocked rather than incidental discovery of content.

related to that, a lot of ppl (not just younger users) take random comments on the internet as law. "oh that person is a [bad thing]." they don't fact check. fact checking can be twisted into "I don't believe this person" or "I'm invalidating this person's own experience" or "I'm defending the accused and condoning it by asking for evidence." it's a big issue anymore. no one asks for the sauce, they just take shit at face value, even up to very serious accusations.

mob mentality. wanting to be part of a movement. not wanting to rock the boat. when someone gets accused of shit, or even if they like a ship that's "problematic," it's easier to go along with the group than be the dissenter. humans crave "togetherness" or like... "caveman tribes" where they can band together around a common enemy. peer pressure, basically.

one of the biggest ones imo: the enshittening of the internet. most major platforms have bans on NSFW content so it's far less likely to accidentally stumble upon it. especially if there's an algorithm in place; don't search for it, you won't get served it. ergo, no accidental porn discoveries, no desensitization to it. in addition, most major art platforms don't allow porn at all, so searching for fanart is usually uneventful. Google and other search engines default to safe search. most people don't tailor their settings for platforms/devices they use anymore (default iPhone ringtone/text message sounds anyone?), so it's not something they experience.

a bonus theory: fandom becoming mainstream. with "normies" actively participating in fandom more than ever, the concepts of smut fic or fanart coexisting with the gen fanworks isn't as understood as the default by younger people. rather than being part of a normal fandom experience, it's seen as "degenerate" or "weird."

there's probably other things that contribute to it, but I feel like those are the major factors. it is definitely very unnerving behavior to see unfold. rather than the old guard gatekeeping shit (which is bad regardless ofc), the new blood is creating a mass shift in how stuff is perceived and labeling people as degens for having a sex drive lmao.

i make a lot of posts to the tune of "you're allowed to be horny btw" because it's becoming increasingly clear that adults being sexual in (clearly marked and blockable!) spaces is being stamped out and made out to be evil both legislatively and in the moral zeitgeist, especially among younger folks. not even in the "wait to be a horny adult online when you're An Adult" way, just an ingrained puritanical outrage response to *anything* that isn't chaste wholesome perfect all-ages allowed. it's unnerving and scary.

[lazylittledragon]

ok someone please correct me if i'm wrong but am i weird for thinking those 'audiobooks don't count as reading' posts are ableist as fuck????

[royaltrios]

i think ryuu’s from kyushu (kumamoto) and i think he speaks kumamoto-ben/ hakata-ben (picked it up from traveling to fukuoka a lot when he was young and having friends from there, its comfortable for him) when he gets to uni though he generalizes his speech to tokyo japanese because hes scared of standing out. one time though he gets caught up in the excitement of something and lets a yoka!! slip and kazuma is like. huh? and for the rest of their schooldays will not leave him alone about it. he thinks its so charming to hear ryuu speak in the dialect and asks him to teach him. ryuu is Very embarrassed but also loves how kazuma looks at him as if hes special for it (not to mention... its nice to have a handle on something that kazuma Doesnt know how to do. kazumas such a tokyoite big city important samurai lineage guy and hearing him try to wrap his speech around kumamoto-ben is so cute to ryuu). so it becomes a little secret between them. i can imagine ryuu in the middle of teaching him one day says that if he really wants to learn it he should stay in the area for a bit at least and thats how kazuma slyly invites himself over to meet ryuu’s family one summer vacation :)

[thedreadvampy]

I mean sure, I can understand this perspective, but I'm not sure whether most people feel less shaken to be thrust into conversations about "self-unaliving" than conversations about "suicide"

and I for one as a survivor would much rather unexpectedly encounter somebody talking about "rape" than somebody talking about how funny it is to have sex with somebody when they don't want to, a normal thing that doesn't need to be named because it's So Normal.

which is to say. this is a post about words. the words are not the distressing thing about the discussion. the distressing thing is the distressing thing about the discussion. sugarcoating, dodging or renaming the distressing thing doesn't make it less distressing but it DOES often make it harder to have a frank discussion about it or address it in serious terms.

[pinch of salt: solid probability from their blog that this person is a Literal 14 Year Old and the perspective from 30 and 14 are very different. I do stand by all the points I'm making but I think this conversation lands a lot different for people at different life stages - there is something to be said for the general issue that the internet has flattened social groups to the degree that I as a 30 year old can make a post to my audience of largely adult millennials that immediately enters the same conversational space as people half my age and still in school. that seems. ungreat. as the primary way we engage in conversation. but I don't have solutions to offer.]

you gotta be able to say "die"

you gotta be able to say "suicide"

you gotta be able to talk about "sex"

they're uncomfortable topics, YEAH for SURE

because LIFE is uncomfortable. Death and suicide and sex and pain are straight up going to happen. not having words for the way it discomforts you doesn't make it more comfortable, it just makes you less able to reach out about it.

even more vital, you gotta be able to say words like "rape", "abuse", "queer" or "racist". cause we fought fucking hard to name those experiences. to identify "rape" as distinct from "sex" and "racism" as distinct from "acceptable behaviour" and "queer" as distinct from "invert"

like the function of communication is not to minimise immediate discomfort. we gotta be able to talk about stuff that's hard or sucks or causes difficult conversations.

[theminecraftbee]

the case of docm77 v zombiecleo: a very incomplete summary of events

i, of course, strongly recommend going to doc's video (or bdubs, cleo, joe, or skizz's, once they exist) and watching the whole thing for yourself i could NOT stop laughing. but for those of you who want a vague summary of some stuff that happens in the courtroom:

bdubs is insisting on being called "your highness" as opposed to "your honor".

we START with bdubs explaining he has set up a dramatic five-strike system; if either side gets five strikes (things that upset bdubs lol) he will "uh, not give them the death penalty, but--"

doc immediately tries to use this to take advantage of the system and get cleo strikes.

he instead accidentally immediately murders his own counsel.

it has been like One Minute.

"just in case anyone dies, there's a jury deliberation room under construction, there's a bed in there"

bdubs is paying everyone a diamond block for showing up if they listen to his judgement. help.

"thrust his sword into said swine" so skizz's opening speech is GREAT.

"wow, that was really good. but the camera is over here, so if you could do that again and look into the camera for me--"

"defense, first off, how do you plead?" (doc, grasping for his vague knowledge of american legal dramas) "i plead the fifth. i plead the fifth. uh. right?"

joe, in his opening speech: "this is esteemed around the world as a place where two adults who act like children can come to have their differences settled by you in the most entertaining manner."

HELP. "cleo is bringing to the court not an affair between two adults with an unsettled matter, but an adult and a large baby."

HELP IS JOE'S DEFENSE THAT DOC IS A LARGE BABY AND THEREFORE CAN'T BE HELD RESPONSIBLE FOR HIS ACTIONS.

joe: "you know, cleo has a lot of communication problems." bdubs, with great feeling: "yikes."

cleo, under her breath: "i'm gonna kill him."

"just a minute i'm setting up my lawyer", ren says, carrying the armor stand he had in the stands with him to the bench and putting false's head on it,

ren: "i cannot recall." bdubs: "YOU CAN'T RECALL WHAT HAPPENED?" ren: "i cannot recall if i cannot recall."

why is skizz doing a foghorn leghorn accent now,

skizz, about doc: "this is proof this man likes to intimidate, that he gets off on it." no one comments on this phrasing.

sorry ren making an armor stand falsesymmetry as his lawyer and companion in the stands is so funny.

"this is more evidence cleo is a poor communicator. she can't control her man--"

joe is very clearly just trying to make everyone in the room mad and it's really funny.

HELP. BDUBS BUILT A HEADS AND TAILS MACHINE TO DECIDE IF THEY'RE GOING TO ALLOW OBJECTIONS.

anyway it rolls tails so it overrules skizz's objection.

skizz's accent and vocabulary just keeps getting more and more exaggerated i think he's going for approximately benoit blanc,

beef: "he forcefully approached us and said he's the guy who wants all the wood." cleo and doc, snorting and giggling at this as one,

i feel like i should note that bdubs has a fireworks crossbow that he's calling his "whip" and hitting people with when they do something he considers wrong.

this leads me to wonder if bdubs thinks whipping is normal in a courtroom...?

i think its really funny that skizz is actively doing like, correct types and moments to do an objection, and it almost sounds like good lawyering, and then IMMEDIATELY bdubs goes "it's time to HEADS AND TAILS!!!" and breaks that illusion completely.

"well, it's heads, objection sustained, strike that from the record." joe: "well then i guess you'll never know what my point was." beat of silence. bdubs: "never mind, let's just add a strike, and you can say it,"

"i don't know how the esophagus entered this situation at all?" "let's pray it didn't. geez." "i was not thinking of doc's esophagus when i built the giant fish for his hourglass." <- this only barely makes more sense in context,

"no further questions your honor." "seriously???"

every time joe calls doc either a baby or a manchild is SO FUNNY. why is this his argument. it's SO FUNNY.

"but he has not proven mens rhea, which you your highness are very familiar with but for the viewers at home is not a gendered form of diarrhea--"

cleo, to doc: "doc are you sure you want to win this one?" doc, in clear and obvious distress: "i'm not sure of anything anymore man i just, i don't know,"

bdubs then interrupts to do the sponsored segment of court.

"the tall claims court is brought to you by!" bdubs puts a disc in. 13 starts playing. "shoot that's the spooky record. that's the worst one." he continues with his bamboo shop sponsored segment spiel anyway, with 13 continuing to play,

"i'm not going to ask for money, i'm just asking for a simple injunction against doc. he won't be allowed to use diamonds for redstone anymore." "WHAT??? THERE'S LIMITS TO THIS, OKAY????" "calm down doc, we're not gonna--" "WHAT NO WHAT CALM DOWN???"

"cleo i have to say that's way better than anything skizz said. skizz was talking and all i heard was bla bla bla bla bla but that was real heartfelt. if you're thinking about paying him, maybe don't."

doc: "i want to make peace and love that's all i care about i'm just a humble boutiquer"

"i felt like as her friend i needed to teach her what it feels like to lose something" i love how deranged that is doc keep going

"but it happened and i think i'm insane, right," doc says, then nods at joe.

"yeah this is really good" cleo responds, perfectly happy with the idea of doc declaring himself insane for no good reason,

cleo: "doc is just completely unhinged when people mess with his redstone, and i feel like my punishment would take away that emotional bond."

joe: "objection your honor, my client is unhinged in every context."

i like how this is "make fun of doc" day.

bdubs: "i'm going to deliberate quickly then i'll come back with my judgement." (turns around for like five seconds.) "and i'm back!"

HELP DOC HAS BEEN BANISHED TO A SINGLE BLOCK IN THE SKY WITH A CHEST ON IT FOR TWO WEEKS

THREE IF HE TOUCHES THE GROUND

AIR JAIL...........

bdubs adjourns court. doc, immediately: "WHAT THE HELL JOE??" "i did my best, man :/"

"DO YOU KNOW THE VEINS ON MY NECK ARE ABOUT TO EXPLODE????"

jevin in the background of doc losing his shit just kinda murdering skizzleman for fun,

doc's main objection to the sky island is "BUT I HAVE THINGS TO DO :(((((("

doc ends the video standing here:

in conclusion: yeah this seems like a very fair trial with no ridiculous elements at all. very serious and befitting the sanctity of court. yes. you should watch it for a very serious hermitcraft experience,

[bbyquokka]

slow

– in which it's yn's & jisung's first time together. jisung gets a little too in to it!

pairing | han jisung x fem reader

genre | friends to lovers, fluff, smut – 18+ is strongly advised!

cw | established relationship , small mention of anxiety , jisung & reader are not inexperienced, its their first time being intimate together , masturbation (m) , dirty thoughts , orgasm denial , pet names , love bites , biting , grinding , jisung is rough at the start , safe word used , breast & nipple play , oral sex (m & f rec) , protected sex (p in v) , aftercare

words | 7.6k ~ ( 7,630 )

notes | it's been a while.. i still dont feel 100% on this site rn but i wanted to post a lil something! also, this was requested a hella long time ago! don’t forget to leave feedback, reblog and tell me what you think here. curious as to what is next? here is my wips list! i hope you all enjoy! ‹3

m.list — you can also read it on my ao3

dont repost. dont translate. minors, ageless & default blogs; dni! feedback and reblogs are highly advised and appreciated!

you never thought you could ever be so in love with a human being, yet here you are, smitten by none other than han jisung.

you’ve read and watched about love, soulmates, marriage, sex, all that type of stuff in movies and books. you never believed in the soulmate's thing or the ‘red string of fate’. you simply thought it was a gimmick to hook the audience into whatever media consumption they were consuming.

but alas, here you are. as you look at your lover and soak in every single precious detail of him, you slowly understand the meaning of soulmate's. your heart thumps every time you hear him speak, stomach fluttering every time you watch him fill his cheeks up with food like a squirrel.

you met jisung by chance. you both were attending a beginners painting course at your local community center. it was a chance for you to step out of your comfort zone and meet new people, possibly make new friends too.

you were nervous to begin with and possibly overwhelmed too. new faces, sounds and smells. you were overstimulated and the raging feeling of anxiety activated your fight-or-flight mode.

luckily for you, jisung noticed and instantly calmed you down. he spoke to you in a gentle and soft manner. he made corny jokes to help relax you and ease your mind. you only just met him and yet, you felt instantly connected to him – like you've known him your whole life.

he mentioned that the teacher, who's name you learnt was hyunjin, was a very good friend of his and that you didn't have anything to worry about. you explained that you're a terrible artist and know nothing at all to which jisung replied “me too! let's be terrible together, yeah?” 

that day was the most fun you've had in a long time. the anxiety you felt disappeared as soon as jisung approached you. you both created god awful paintings but they left you in tears of laughter and by the end of the session, you were sure you developed a six pack due to how sore your stomach muscles were hurting from laughing too much.

you could say that you both acted like two high schoolers goofing around in class. hyunjin did tell you and jisung off but he was just happy that his friend was able to find someone just like him.

you and jisung exchanged contact details. calling and texting each other 24/7. it started off small and sweet, telling each other about your day, telling one another to eat well and stay hydrated. sending pictures of things you both think the other would like.

you didn't realise or consider that your feelings for jisung were slowly becoming a lot more than ‘just friends.’ you couldn't explain it at the time. you couldn't understand why you felt so giddy every time you saw his name pop up on your phone screen. you didn't understand why you wanted to scream and shout every time he sent you a comfy selfie. you didn't understand why your heart raced and why you felt the urge to spend every single second of every hour with him and when he wasn't calling or texting you, that you felt sad and empty.

you simply put it down to the fact that you've never had a close friend before, especially of the opposite sex. you mistook your feelings for love as that of excitement and joy.

however, it wasn't until you saw a picture of him with someone else on a night out, did you finally understand.

the jealousy you felt that night turned you bitter and cold. it turned you into something that you didn't recognise within yourself. you did act a little distant towards him the next day and poor jisung didn't have a clue as to why.

one thing about jisung that you've learnt since knowing him, is that he is very good at getting you to talk about things you don't want to.

“do you think the reason you feel like this could be related to something much more? something you haven't quite figured out yet.”

as soon as jisung sent those messages to you, did you reflect and come to terms that you have fallen in love with your best friend. once that was evident, you had a whole new problem.

what if jisung doesn't feel the same as you? what if it affects the friendship between you both?

with so many questions rushing in your mind, you unintentionally ghosted jisung and he noticed.

he noticed the dry messages. the one liners. he noticed that you didn't seem all too interested anymore. yeah, it filled him up with anxiety because he wondered if he'd done anything or said anything to upset you.

instead of letting his mind run away with negative thoughts, he made the bold decision to go to your apartment and talk it out.

it was a day you'd never forget. it was a day that started off angsty and slowly turned into something magical.

you talked with each other and you confessed through your tears. you sobbed and sobbed, worry shaking your entire existence. jisung hugged you tight, his scent calmed your nerves. once calm, did he too also confess and that was the beginning of something you both cherish to this day.

you both agreed to start of slow. neither of you are inexperienced however, going from being ‘just friends’ to boyfriend girlfriend is a whole new feeling.

you're seeing each other in a new light, learning new things about one another. everything is so different, everything feels different. it feels like your relationship with jisung is starting all over again. what you thought you knew about him, turns out to be completely different.

you went on many dates and outings. you held hands multiple times and cuddled a lot. you both even exchanged sweet pecks on the cheeks before kissing each other. however, you both never did anything intimate with one another.

not because you weren't ready or inexperienced, it's a simple matter of the timing doesn't feel right. you (and jisung) both want to be with each other more, spend more time with one another and learn about each other before taking that massive (and vulnerable) step in the relationship.

not one of you pestered or pressured the other about it. it's as if you both silently just knew. at first you were a little anxious about not having sex with him right away and jisung felt the same, however, as time went on and you both started to find comfort in each other as well as understand one another via social/physical cues, did the anxieties slowly disappear.

that's not to say that you don't feel some kind of lust for him. jisung is exactly the same, thinking and feeling like you. some days he wishes he could just ravish you. when you look that extra gorgeous or do something cute that makes his heart skip, he wishes he could just drag you back to his place and indulge in you.

there have been many times that he's masturbated over you. date nights he would find himself going home, straight to his bedroom and his fist around his throbbing cock. his mind plagued with dirty thoughts of you, imagining you in your date attire.

some nights he wants to ruin you. his hand funnelling for his phone as his other is wrapped around his cock and squeezing tightly to deny himself of his orgasm. it hurts and the longer he waits, the more it hurts him but it makes his toes curl and body shakes with excitement.

he doesn't know how long he can go on like this. he knows patience is a virtue but just everything about you is driving him insane. the more time goes on, the more he becomes impatient. the more it builds and builds until it feels like he is suffocating with an intense amount of lust.

luckily for him, he won't have to wait that long.

“thank you for tonight, sungie.” you smile as you stand on the doorstep of your home. jisung hums softly, his hands in his suit pants pockets.

“my pleasure. i hope you enjoyed the meal.”

“i enjoy your company more than anything.” you feel your cheeks heat up slowly. the tips of jisung's ears slowly turn red at your cute confession.

“i – ahm – i shall bid you goodnight then, darling.” as he turns on his heels, he is abruptly stopped by you grabbing his wrist. he looks up at you, a look of confusion on his face, his brows furrowed together.

“what’s the mat–”

“stay the night.” you blurt out in one sentence. 

his heart stops beating for a second. your cheeks pink as the grip on his wrist is tight. heat rushes down south and his mouth becomes dry. 

“darling, what are you trying to say? do you know what will happen if i stay the night?” he takes your hand gently from his wrist, intertwining his fingers with yours as he walks close to you. 

you become fixated on him and your senses become heightened. your throat becomes dry as jisung holds your hand whilst his other wraps around your waist, pulling you flush against his body.

you become hyper aware of the situation; of him! you swallow thickly, jisung's plump lips curled up at the corners in a smirk as they glisten from his saliva. 

“you are aware, correct?” he whispers. his voice is husk and his breath fans against your lips. you nod slowly, unable to speak. you worry that jisung would be able to hear your racing heartbeat. his cologne tickling your nostrils and intoxicating you. 

you've never been this close to him before. you can see every single detail of his skin up close and personal. his grip on your waist tightens ever so slightly as he shakily lets out a slow breath.

he brings the back of your hand to his lips, pressing them against your skin as he peers up at you through his lashes. you feel warmth flooding your body, butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

“god you're so beautiful.” he mumbles before kissing each of your fingers individually. “do you want to, darling?”

“i–” you stumble over your words.

“tell me. let me hear your pretty voice.” his hand escapes your waist to be pressed against your flush cheek. you instantly lean into his palm, feeling yourself be swayed by his charms.

“i-i want you, ji.” you whisper as your eyes flutter close. with a small huff, you feel jisung leaning closer to you and within a second, his soft lips are against yours in a slow and rhythmic kiss.

it's different. it feels different. it's not a simple peck or a good night kiss. it's a kiss that is filled with built up fiery passion. jisung has finally been given the go ahead and he can feel it all overflowing and seeping out.

he grips your hand, eyes fluttering closed as his brows scrunch together. you tilt your head to the side a little, lips locking and caressing one another. he presses his body against yours, your back hitting your door which causes jisung to snake his arms around your back and hold you firmly in his arms.

your own arms wrap around his neck, keeping him close to you as possible. the way jisung is kissing you is making you feel lightheaded and deprived of oxygen – but you don't want to escape from his grasp.

the cold night air fans against your hot cheeks, failing to bring down your body temperature. you feel the tip of his tongue glide along your bottom lip, silently pleading for permission. you grant it by parting your lips and letting your own tongue caress with his.

your body fills with tingles of excitement, your abdomen fluttering. jisung's suit pants are starting to feel a little tight. he can feel himself slowly melt into you, his mind turning foggy. he's waited all this time to taste you and now he finally has you, he doesn't want to escape and let you go.

“taste so sweet.” he mumbles for a split second to allow some air to resume into his lungs. you don't have a chance to reply because his lips are instantly back on yours, tongue caressing and colliding with yours. melting at the touch.

your heart thumps against your chest so loudly, you can hear it in your ears. your body trembles with excitement but also another feeling that you can't quite put your finger on.

you hear jisung fumbling behind you, his hand coming into contact with the cold door handle. with his lips still locked onto you, he opens the door and slowly pushes you inside. once inside, he kicks the door closed with his foot as you both stumble whilst taking off your shoes.

you're the first to pull away from his lips much to his dismay. you look at the man that stands before you and notice that he looks and feels different. he no longer feels soft and gentle. his eyes are hazy but darkened with hunger and lust. his cheeks are pink and lips swollen and glistening with saliva. you see his chest rising up and down with every breath and his neat hair now dishevelled.

“where?” his words dripped with a hint of impatience. you swallow a little and chew your lip gently.

“we can go to my room?” you press your lips together in a thin line. you're suddenly aware that jisung is in your home, in your space and it's making you nervous as hell! jisung notices you trembling a little so he places one hand on your shoulder whilst the other is used to lift your chin up gently so you're looking at him.

“are you sure?” his voice is now soft and gentle, the same softness you've grown accustomed too. “we don't ha–”

“i want to!” you blurt out causing jisung to widen his eyes slightly before chuckling to himself. “just give me a few seconds. i need to go to the restroom.”

he gives you a gentle smile and nods. as you go to the restroom, you tell jisung the directions to your bedroom in case he wants to sit and wait and whilst he does, he takes his time looking around your place.

he makes a mental note how it's just like you. how every piece of decoration resembles you in one way or another. he walks to your bedroom, cautiously sitting on your bed as he waits for you.

as he waits, he suddenly becomes hyper aware of where he is. he can smell you. the same lavender scent that emits from your clothing is now tickling his nostrils. his lips part as he lets out small, shaky puffs of air.

“fuck.. this is bad.” he mumbles as he unbuttons the first few buttons of his dress shirt. his body temperature skyrocketing, skin glistening in sweat as your scent continues to hug him deliciously.

meanwhile, you're in the restroom giving yourself a pep-talk. the coolness of the ceramic sink feels soothing against your hot palms.

you're nervous. you've never been this nervous before. it feels like you could throw up. you want to run and hide but the desire you have for him is too strong. you want him and he wants you, it's just because it's all new that you feel like this.

however, you can't shake that hungry look from jisung's eyes away from your mind. he looked like an animal, ready to pounce on you at any second. 

you take a few deep breaths in and slowly release before fixing your hair. “you got this yn.” you mumble to your reflection before walking out of the restroom into the bedroom.

jisung looks up at you and gives you a grin. his legs are spread, hair pushed back with the buttons of his dress shirt still open, giving you a glimpse of his honey smooth skin you've been dying to caress.

he pats his inner thigh, silently beckoning you forward. like a puppet on a string, you feel yourself being pulled towards him. you stand between his legs, his hands on your waist gently as he strokes it with his thumb.

you glance at him, soaking in how beautiful and flush he looks. he tilts his head to the side, his bangs covering his eyes and his lips curl into a smirk as he sees your eyes flicker from his face to his crotch.

“like what you see?” 

your eyes widen and you feel heat rush to your cheeks. your brain melts and your ability to speak fails. words lodged in your throat and all you can muster is broken sentences.

jisung laughs at your flustered state, pulling you onto his lap. he pulls you flush on his crotch, chest to chest. his arms wrapping around your back and holding you close and he nuzzles into the crook of your neck.

the tips of his hair tickle your cheeks. hot, shaky breaths fanning against your skin as you feel your clothing being bundled up into jisung's hands.

“fuck, i’m in trouble. you’re too cute.” you giggle, your fingers caressing his soft hair. the tips of your fingers rake against his scalp and jisung closes his eyes slowly. his lips brush against the skin of your neck before being pressed against it. 

he starts off slow and gentle at first, peppering and sucking gently. but that soon fades.

you feel his teeth graze against your skin and your breath hitches in your throat. you bite your bottom lip gently before whimpering a little as his teeth dig into your neck. you squeeze your eyes shut, enduring the stinging sensation as you hold your breath. 

his kissing and sucking quickly becomes rough and painful. you grip onto jisung as his hands trail down your back to hold your waist. he grips onto you, moving your hips back and forth on his crotch.

when he pulls away from your neck, do you realise exactly what is happening and why you feel so anxious.

this isn't your first time but with how rough jisung is being is making you feel scared. the kind, gentle man you're so accustomed to is nowhere to be seen. his eyes are darkened, half-lidded. kiss bitten and swollen lips glistening in saliva.

his jaw clenches as he grips onto you forcefully. his mind has fogged over and he is purely chasing his own high. his body is being driven by the intense lust and hunger that had been building for months.

he's a different person and it's scaring you.

“h-hey. why don't we take i–” your attempt at trying to calm him down and bring him back to you cut short due to jisung throwing you onto the bed.

your back is hit with the bouncy mattress, the springs squeaking from impact. you watch jisung kneel between your legs, hands fumbling with the rest of the buttons of his shirt before it's quickly discarded to the side leaving him in nothing but his dress pants.

you wish you could enjoy the beautiful sight before you but you simply can't. you've seen jisung's body numerous times via gym or thirst selfies, seeing it in the flesh and glistening in a thin layer of sweat is a different experience and you so wish you could enjoy it.

“ji–” your eyes widen as he leans down and kisses you. it's not the same as before, it's rough. all teeth and tongues with no coordination. you start to panic, palms becoming sweaty and your heart beating against your chest.

this isn't how you imagined your first time to be with jisung. this isn’t what you wanted. you want your passionate, gentle and loving jisung back.

“v-volcano!” you sob. as if a switch has suddenly been switched inside of him, he is fast to get off you. his eyes widen in pure shock at the sight before him. you chew your bottom lip gently, unable to stop a few tears from trickling down your cheeks.

“oh my god. oh no. yn, oh fuck. i’m so sorry!” he reaches down shakily and presses his palm against your cheek. you lean in as you sniffle.

“it’s ok.” you whisper.

“no!” his sudden loud tone of voice makes you jump a little. “it’s not ok. i lost myself in the moment and i made you cry. fuck, i’m an idiot..”

“hey, it's ok.”

“it's not ok yn. i didn't mean to scare you. i've been wanting you for so long that when i finally got you, i lost sight of everything and in the process hurt and scared you.” his voice cracking and shaking. his brown, boba eyes filling with tears.

you sit up and kiss his cheek gently. your lips are met with the salty flavour of his tears. he wraps his arms around you tightly, pulling you into his chest as he sobs.

“i’m sorry. i’m so fucking sorry. this wasn't how i planned this. fuck i’m so stupid!” he babbles. you hush him softly, stroking his hair slowly. you make a mental note of how he currently reminds you of a lost child, babbling and crying till their red in the face and snotty.

“i’m ok jisung. it did scare me. i saw a side to you that i’ve never seen before and it frightened me but you stopped when i used the safe word and that counts for something.”

“really?” he mumbles against your neck which is currently wet with tears.

“really. it'd be different if you carried on but you didn't. don't beat yourself up about this. this is our first time together.” you pull away slowly, cupping his cheeks. “we’re still learning about one another, darling. intimacy is a big big step in a relationship. it's probably one where we're at our most vulnerable.”

jisung simply nods and looks down, chin into chest as his lips turn into a pout. a few stray tears falling down his cheeks as he sniffles.

he really is like a child you say to yourself mentally before giggling.

“i'm sorry.” he whispers before looking up at you. “can we start all over again?”

you smile softly at him and nod. he leans on, tilting his head to the side and eyes slowly closing as your lips meet again. he is slow, tender and so gentle with you. it sparks butterflies in your stomach and for you to melt and relax into him.

he gently pushes you down so you're resting on your back, the kiss not being broken once. you wrap your arms around his neck and hold him close to you. his fingers dance along your jawline and down your neck, trailing down to your breasts when he gently cups them through the fabric of your clothing.

your breath hitches a little in your throat. he gently massages your breast, kneading it in the palm of his hand. you gasp a little and groan, your legs parting a little bit more to allow more space for jisung to situate himself in.

his hand slowly trails up your stomach from under your clothing. his soft fingers dance along your skin like delicate pixie feet. it leaves a trail of heat and butterflies behind making you longing for more.

jisung licks your lips slowly and is pleased to feel them slowly part. the two wet muscles meet in the middle when they collide, hug and caress. his delicate fingers reach to your breast where he presses his palm on the flesh and wraps his fingers around it gently.

he squeezes your breast a few times, kneading and rolling it slowly. he swallows every gasp and soft moan that falls past your lips.

“god.” he mumbles as he pulls away to bury his face into the crook of your neck. “you sound so beautiful.” 

“i do?” 

“mhm.” jisung's fingers brush over your hardened nipple, causing you to moan softly in shock at the sudden sensation and sensitivity. “see? i might become addicted.”

you flush at his words, your stomach fluttering and heartbeat skipping beats. you worry with how close jisung is to you, that he'd be able to hear and feel how erratic your heart is.

he presses his lips against your neck, kissing it tenderly and giving gentle sucks. his fingers work on your breast whilst you're unsure on what to do with your own. jisung notices this.

“it’s ok. you can touch me.” he chuckles against your neck. you flush red with embarrassment.

“i-i know! i just don't know where..”

“you can caress me. hold me. tangle your fingers in my hair. whatever feels natural, yn.” he pulls away from your neck to kneel up. his hand is off your breast as he takes your hand gently by the wrist. he brings your hand to his lips, eyes on you as he kisses your fingers delicately. “i won't break.”

you watch him kiss your fingers before kissing the back of your hand. then, he takes your wrist gently, guiding it to his cheek. he presses your palm against his flush skin as he leans in, his own hand pressed against the back of yours to keep your hand there.

“it’s ok to touch me, yn. touch me as much as you like. i've been dying for your touch so please, indulge in me. be greedy.” he whispers. 

you can't help the onslaught of butterflies fluttering in your stomach. it feels like they're travelling throughout your whole body, hugging your veins, nerves and tips of your fingers and toes. your breathing becomes shallow and jisung becomes the only thing you see.

everything turns blurry and time passes by slowly as you look at the man that is smitten for you. this love you feel from him, the love that's radiating and seeping from his pores is more than you thought.

it's suffocating but it's good. you want to drown in his love, drown in his warmth. you want to be entangled with him and have him be the only person you think and feel. 

you've noticed it for a while. noticed how hot he makes you feel. how his touch makes your skin burn. how his kisses linger on your skin. your lips automatically turned up in a smile whenever you see his name pop up on your screen. you're always thinking of him and you miss him when he isn't with you. you want to lock him up and never share him with anyone else because you'll get jealous. you want him by your side for eternity.

he is your life, your soul. your present and your future.

“i love you.” 

jisung looks at you, his eyes slowly widening. you haven't registered what you've just said, feeling like you're in a haze.

“say that again.” 

“huh?” you blink, coming back to reality.

“do you mean it? like, truly?” 

“mean what?”

“you said… you said you love me.” your eyes widen as you open and close your mouth like a goldfish, words stuck in your throat.

“i… i…uhm..”

“because–” he cups your cheeks gently. his eyes sparkling and wet as they fill with tears. “because i love you too. so fucking much.” 

your own eyes fill with tears as you watch tears trickle down jisung's cheeks. you laugh softly, stroking them away with your thumb.

“yes. i mean it, ji. i love you.”

“fuck.” he sobs before kissing you sweetly. you laugh in the kiss before kissing his tears away.

“yn.” he mumbles. you hum as a response. “i’m really fuckin' hard.. it hurts..” you press your lips together and glance down.

true to his word you can see a bulge in his suit pants. the fabric hugs him nicely, giving you a brief idea of his size and girth. he looks thick and long.

“please yn.. please do something. i can't bear it no more.” his voice is husk and dripping with lust. it tickles your ears and makes you shake with adrenaline.

you reach down and unbutton his pants, pulling the zip down. it gives him a small sense of relief but it's not enough. he lets out a small sigh before raising up a little on his knees to allow you to pull his pants down.

you do so with shaky hands, pulling them down to his thighs. jisung watches you stare at his crotch, watching you soak in all the information you have right in front of you.

his grey boxer shorts hugging his lower half tightly, the material stretching a little due to his bulge. it hugs him, feeling too snug to be comfortable. a wet patch where his tip is resting turning the fabric a darker grey.

“baby.. you're embarrassing me.” you look up to see jisung looking to the side, his bottom lip being chewed and his cheeks pink.

“sorry! it's just..” you trail off. jisung laughs softly and cups your cheeks.

“it’s ok. i understand.” he kisses your forehead gently. his muscles twitch and jerk as he feels your fingers come into contact with his sides.

you hook your fingers under the waistband of his shorts and slowly pull them down. you both hold your breath, time feeling like it's slowed down. you reveal his happy trail, his neatly trimmed hair until finally, his penis bounces free from its restraints.

jisung sighs heavily in relief, his eyes closing. you, on the other hand, stare at him with your mouth wide open. your hands have now bundled up the fabric of his shorts as you swallow and lick your lips.

you knew he was packing, that was evident in the way you could see it in jeans, pants and even his underwear – but you didn't think he'd be this big.

“holy. you're big.” you say without giving it a second thought. jisung stutters and covers his face with his hands, peering at you through the gap of his fingers.

“not sure if that's a compliment or not but, thank you.” 

“it's a compliment.” you whisper before leaning down.

his hips buck and muscles twitch. you haven't done anything but your breath fanning against his hot skin makes him throb and anticipate. you lick your lips and use the tip of your tongue to lick his tip.

“f-fuck.” he instantly moans. your actions are miniscule but it feels so much more than what it is. maybe it's because he's wanted this for so long or maybe it's because you both confessed and said i love you that makes it feel the way it does.

you press your tongue flat against his tip. your taste buds are met with a salty flavour from his pre-cum. you wrap one hand around the base of his penis as you slowly start to become more confident. you stroke him slowly, rotating your wrist a few times as you wrap your lips around his tip.

he feels hot – so so hot. jisung feels like his skin is burning. he feels like he is drowning in molten lava. he pants as he watches you, his eyes half-lidded and his teeth chewing on his bottom lip.

“hot.” he pants. he reaches down to bury his fingers in your hair. “ahh, fuck..” his head tilts to the side as you bob your head in time with your hand, giving his penis equal stimulation from both your hand and mouth.

you flatten your tongue to stoke the underside of him. you can feel the bumps from his veins against your palm. you hollow out your cheeks and breath through your nose the best you can. the corners of your mouth start to stretch and sting due to them splitting slightly. your mouth becomes accumulated with saliva which makes it easier for you to take more of him.

“a-ah.. fuck, yes. that's it. god, your mouth is so warm and feels so good.”

his praises and soft moans hug your ears. the deep octa waves of his voice send shivers down your spine and encourage you to be more brave. your eyes flutter shut as you focus all your attention on pleasuring jisung. 

he slowly unravels right before you. a thin sheen of sweat soaking his body as his penis throbs and twitches. he gently tugs on your hair, his hips bucking several times. soft whimpers and moans leave his swollen and parted lips as he slowly becomes dizzy with heat and lust.

jisung reaches down and gently pushes you away from him. you look up at him with a confused expression, eyebrows furrowed together. he strokes your saliva coated lips with his thumb before speaking.

“you're going to make me cum and i don't want to cum just get.” 

you laugh softly but it's quick to become muffled and swallowed by jisung kissing your lips slowly and passionately. you only pull away from a brief second to allow him to undress you.

once stripped of your clothing, you're left in your underwear. just like you did, jisung is currently staring at your body. his mouth agape and eyes filling with love and admiration as he soaks in every single detail of your body.

you become aware of his eyes and feel somewhat violated by his piercing gaze. you cross your arms across your breasts and stomach, feeling embarrassed and vulnerable.

“hey, don't do that.” he whispers softly to you as he gently pries away your arms.

“but it's embarrassing.” you mumble.

“but you're so gorgeous, yn.” you remain silent. you don't know how to respond. he's always showered you with compliments and love, forever telling you how beautiful and pretty you are but it feels different this time and it's making you feel embarrassed and shy.

your thoughts are disrupted by the feeling of jisung kissing your stomach. you watch him, tangling your fingers in his hair. he reaches up and hooks a finger underneath your bra strap as if he's silently asking.

you nod slowly. he grins, showing his teeth and gums. he takes off your bra and discards it with the rest of the clothing. his head dips low and you close your eyes, whimpering as you feel his lips peppering kissing on your breasts.

“so pretty.” he mumbles between each kiss. your hard nipple is caught between his teeth, lips sucking and tongue licking the sensitive nub.

you chew your bottom lip to suppress the moans that are building in the back of your throat. you tremble a little and let out a small pant. jisung notices and releases your nipple to kiss your neck softly and slowly.

“don't hold back your voice. let me hear your pretty moans.”

tingles are being left behind from where jisung has kissed your skin. heat pools in the pit of your stomach and much to jisung's delight, you let go of the moan that had been building in the back of your throat.

“see. told you your moans sound pretty.” his hot breath fanning against your hard nipple before his tongue swipes over it slowly. it gets covered in saliva and slowly becomes sore and sensitive.

the tips of your fingers and toes feel tingly. you feel restless and needy. you want him to hurry up and touch you but at the same time, you want to indulge and embrace the sweet yet tender moment.

he moves from your breast and kisses between them, kissing, sucking and licking your stomach whilst his hair tickles your skin. he stops just above the waistband of your underwear, eyes flicking up to meet your hungry gaze.

you nod and give him the go ahead. he licks his lips and slowly pulls down your underwear, discarding them on the floor. you swallow, feeling nervous and embarrassed now that you're on full display for jisung to see.

he shuffles between your legs, kissing your inner thigh slowly as well as sucking it. he squeezes your soft flesh as he looks at you and keeps eye contact with you. you bite your bottom lip, loving this new side to him. your once innocent looking skin now tainted with purple love bites and goosebumps.

using the tip of his middle finger, he trails it up and down your inner thigh slowly. he looks at your pussy, humming softly as the sight of your soaked folds and swollen clit.

“all this for me?” he whispers as he drags his middle finger to your entrance and gently scoops some of your slick onto it. you nod slowly, unable to speak with how embarrassed you feel. “cute.” he mumbles before licking his finger clean.

he leans down and in, pressing his tongue flat against your neglected bud. your muscles twitch and you gasp as electric like tingles shoot up and down your spine. jisung hums at your reaction, swiping his tongue along your clit.

“j-jisun.. aah!” your eyes flutter close as you press your head onto the pillows. the tip of jisung's tongue is now swirling around your bud, fingers teasing your entrance slowly. he gently sucks on your clit before kitten licking it and moaning softly.

he hooks his arms under your legs, pulling you flush against his face. his tongue slips down to your entrance where he laps at your slick, moaning at the taste and rutting against the mattress. he huffs occasionally, hot breathes fanning against your entrance.

“so good.” he mumbles. you go to reply but a moan replaces your words due to jisung slowly pushing his tongue into your entrance. your warmth encapsulates his tongue, fingers digging into the skin of your thighs. he pushes and pulls his tongue in and out whilst his nimble fingers work on stimulating your clit.

“mhm, fuck. ji don't stop, please.” you moan as you reach down and grab his hair on your hands. you gently tug as your back arches a little. jisung feels your walls flutter on his tongue, your muscles twitching with the stimulation.

your folds get coated in slick and saliva along with jisung's lips and chin. he pulls away for a brief second to catch his breath before resuming back to the task at hand. jisung is thrusting into the mattress, the roughness of the sheets rubbing against his length that's being pressed against his stomach and coating it in his pre-cum.

you feel that all too familiar heat and knot in the pit of your stomach. you gasp and moan, tugging at his hair by the roots. your eyes flutter open and you look up at him as he pulls away, your lips forming a pout.

“i want to carry on, believe me baby but–” he kneels up and between your legs. he looks down and bites his lip. you follow his gaze and press your lips together in a thin line from how hard he is. “it’s painful. i need to be inside of you.”

“o-oh.” you blush. “then, hurry up because i want you.” 

“do you have any protection?” you nod and point to the side drawer by your bed. jisung reaches over you and you take this opportunity to lean up and kiss his neck. jisung grunts and shivers, his lips parting slightly as you gently bite and lick his skin.

“baby.. you're not helping.” 

“shh, just focus on getting a condom.” you purr. jisung's hands fumble around, struggling to open the drawer. when he does, he is met several packs of condoms, lube and some toys.

“i see you're fully stocked up.” he says with a smirk, grabbing a condom and closing the drawer. you feel heat rising to your cheeks.

“there for a friend.” you mumble, averting his gaze. jisung laughs as he opens the condom.

“riiiight, a friend.” 

“shut up.” you whine. “it's better to be prepared.”

“oh i know. that's what i love about you, baby.” you watch him roll the rubber on his length and hold your waist, pulling you closer to him. “ready?”

“i’m ready.”

jisung nods and holds the base of his penis. he guides it to your entrance, rubbing his tip against it and between your folds before slowly pushing in. you both hiss for different reasons.

for him, the warmth and tightness is delicious. you feel so comfy and hot that the heat is spreading throughout his entire body and replacing the blood in his veins with molten lava. he feels his cheeks becoming hot, his palms sweaty and brain feeling like it's melting.

for you, the pain from the stretch burns. you know it'll subside once you get used to him but his thickness is currently the issue. he is being careful and content, going ever so slow for you. he has a little under half his length in and you already feel full.

“it’s not all of it but you're still so tight so we shall go from here.” jisung manages to say through his laboured breaths. he gives you a few minutes to adjust, his hands gripping onto you as he painfully waits.

you give him a nod that tells him it's ok. he starts of slowly, the burn still there but pleasure is soon quick to override it. you reach down and hold onto his wrists as he slowly picks up the tempo. 

his head tilts to the side and his lips part slightly. soft moans and grunts leave his lips. you hold onto him, your body rocking with each thrust of his hips.

“aah fuck. you feel even better than i imagined.” he pants.

“y-you too. please go a little faster and harder.” jisung nods and starts to thrust harder and faster. your back arches as pleasure hugs your body tightly, making you feel like you're suffocating. moans being lodged in your throat.

jisung leans over you, resting on his forearms that are beside your head. the new position allows him to push a little bit of his length deeper inside you but his hips slow down. his movements are long, slow and sensual. 

the ridges of his cock rub your gummy walls, reaching places that have never been touched before. jisung leans down, burying his head into the crook of your neck as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“this feels too good.” his voice is hoarse and low due to his throat being dry from panting. his hair sticks to his skin, the tips coated in sweat as his body glistens.

“it does. you're so deep, ji. please don't stop.” you whisper in his ear, moaning a few times.

“fuck.. you sound so fucking pretty moaning my name. is it even possible to become even more addicted to you?” he kisses your neck slowly and gently. 

your gummy walls tighten around him. both of you reaching your peaks. denying yourselves from previous orgasms meant that it's been building and building up to this point.

“i can't..” you stutter, nail digging into his back.

“me too.. i think i’m at my limit.” you whimper and nod as a response. a few more thrusts and you both orgasm together. your walls flutter around him whilst he twitches and empties into the condom.

you both pant heavily, exhaustion settling in. jisung's arms shake a little, threatening to give up and collapse on top of you. using the remaining strength he has, he pushes himself up and pulls out slowly, taking off the condom, tying and discarding it.

you spread out on the bed, eyes slowly closing. jisung laughs and kisses your forehead gently. he rushes to the bathroom, running a warm bubble bath for you both.

he gently scoops you up in his arms, placing you in the tub before settling behind you. after washing yourselves, you both take a few minutes to relax. you lean into his chest, listening and feeling his steady heartbeat.

“i’m sorry about before..” he mumbles as he strokes your hair slowly. “i became too excited and lost myself in the moment.”

“it’s ok. all's forgiven.” you grin, looking up at him. your grin falters as you look at him. his head dipped low, chin tucked into his chest. his boba eyes glistening as he chews his bottom lip. “hey, it's ok.” 

you spin around to face him in the tub, kneeling uncomfortable in the small tub. you cup his damp cheeks gently, water droplets falling from the tips of his hair. he looks at you and pouts softly.

“but i sca–” you press your lips against his to silence him. his eyes widen a little but he is quick to kiss back.

“i said it's ok. you stopped and you snapped out of it pretty quickly. don't beat yourself up about it, baby. besides–” you push his hair back gently “i enjoyed my first time with you.”

“me too.” his cheeks flush pink, whether from him feeling shy or the humidity of the bathroom. “i’d love to do it with you again.”

“the feelings mutual.” you giggle before kissing his forehead. “now c’mon, let's get to bed. it's been a long night and i’m exhausted.”

jisung agrees and gets out of the tub with you. you both dry yourselves off and get ready for bed. jisung suddenly scoops you up in his arms which causes you to squeal and laugh. he walks to the bed, gently placing you down.

you snuggle into the duvet, watching jisung get in beside you. he faces you, holding your hand gently.

“i love you, yn. i love you so much.” he plays with your fingers as he whispers those sweet and delicate words to you. your heart flutters and skips beats, time freezing for nth time.

“i love you too, ji. forever and always.” 

[teyamsgrl]

I may sound a slut BUT imagine neteyam rlly overprotective and not allow u to go to an party that has boys in it, he just doesn’t wanna see his girl laying her eyes on an other boy 🙁, but there’s an rlly big party. EVERYONE is going to Ight? So we decided to sneak out…but turns out neteyam was acc at that party’s hanging out with his guy friends being a good boy.babes this is the bad part… u didn’t mean to talk with an other boy but u even laughed at his joke… sorry babes we all know how that turns out

❗️MDNI ❗️

OH I LOVE THIS THANK YOU ANON 🙏🏻

anything italicized is your internal thoughts/monologue

no fun without me ✧ neteyam

°˖➴ warnings: fem omatikaya reader, agedup!neteyam, possessive!neteyam, dom!neteyam, sub!reader, argument, semi public sex, dirty talk, degradation, oral m receiving, facefucking, fingering, edging, squirting, p in v, l-bombs / narlor: beautiful, mei: wet, fìtxan: so, mowan: physically/sexually pleasing or enjoyable

feeling left out was a feeling you disliked strongly, as you can imagine every other na'vi would agree with. it didn't help that your friends were bugging you all day about this party and talking about how they were crafting special tops and loincloths just for the event. it wasn't that you couldn't go, but rather it was preferred by your mate that you didn't. neteyam was undeniably an amazing mate, but he was pretty overprotective of you, especially around other male na'vi. you weren't sure why he was threatened by these other men, especially being the future olo'eyktan and one of the most envied hunters of the clan, but you did your best to respect his feelings and wishes.

tonight was different though. every na'vi your age was going to this party and you couldn't handle that left out feeling. you were gonna sneak out.

you quietly tiptoed around your sleeping younger sister, adjusting your top once you got outside of your family's hut. you headed further into the forest, knowing you were close as you heard an abundance of voices getting louder and louder with each step you took. as you finally breach the 'entrance' of the party, you hear a voice exclaim loudly; "Y/N! NO WAY!" you giggle at your friend, ay'olna, and jog up to give her a big hug. "what the hell are you doing here?! i thought-" you cut her off, "i know, but i just couldn't sit at home while everyone else is out here having fun, i deserve to have fun too! plus, neteyam won't know, he never comes to this stuff..." you smile, peeking into the cup she was holding. she smiles and hands it over, watching you take a sip before speaking, "i don't know, i overheard someone say he'd-"

"you came!!" rai'uk butts in, throwing an arm around your shoulder. thank god neteyam wasn't here. you laugh and lean into him, handing the cup back to ay'olna. "you won't believe what happened before you got here though! you know how you tripped on that vine over there the other week? well ay'olna did the exact same thing, and-" he bursts out laughing, causing you to join in from the sound of his infectious laugh. the smile on your face slowly begins to fade as your eyes scan the crowd, spotting neteyam's friends one by one; ikalu, no'ah, naran, even lo'ak, then... there was your boyfriend. staring you down a few feet away. fuck. you watch as neteyam jerks his head to the left, silently telling you to follow him. you clear your throat, "i- i'm just gonna go talk with neteyam.." you trail off and begin to walk away from your friends, ignoring their calls after you.

you catch up to neteyam further into the forest, not extremely far from the party but far enough where the voices were now quiet murmurs. you inhale deeply as neteyam stops in a patch of red-tipped grass, turning to face you with possessiveness very clear in his beautiful eyes. "what were you doing at the party?! we've talked so many times about this, the other men in the clan-" "are not going to steal me away from you, neteyam! i deserve to have fun too and party with my friends! you have no right to prevent me from that!" you shout back, your tail swishing vigorously behind you in frustration. "you don't get it, do you?" he grumbles, stepping closer so you two are now chest to chest. "what is there to get?!" "you're mine, my mate. even thinking of you looking at another man makes me crazy. i can't stand it..."

you lock eyes with him, the tension building as heat overtakes your body. his large hands grip at your hips, his fingers flexing and pulling you flush against him. "mine, right?" he whispers, leaning in so his lips are brushing yours. you nod, closing the minimal gap and pressing your lips against his. your lips move in perfect sync as they do each time you kiss, but the motive behind this one is much different. your lips are frantically moving against each other, small noises leaving your mouth as neteyam's hands roam your body, tracing each curve and dip. your hands fumble with his loincloth, trying to untie it from his tail in your desperate state. you smile as you pull it off and toss it into the grass, hands grazing down his torso and firmly wrapping around his hard cock. it was fully stiff, dark blue in colour and veiny, already leaking precum just for you.

you begin to stroke it, neteyam's jaw slacking at the sensation. you continue moving your hand up and down his shaft, it hardening even further with each glide. neteyam's hand comes to rest on your shoulder, ushering you down onto your knees. you had been in this position many times before, opening your mouth instantaneously and looking up to lock eyes with neteyam. "that's my good girl.." he breathes above you, guiding his cock into your drooling mouth. with his size, he completely fills your mouth, his tip hitting the back of your throat. you whine and slightly gag around him, his hips stagnant as he watches your eyes glisten with tears waiting to spill over. his large hands move to your head as he pulls his hips back then thrusts them for the first time, beginning to fuck your face.

his moans start to fill the space around you both, along with you gagging on his length. "fuck- you're such a slut, letting me use your mouth like this... shit" he groans out, his one hand moving to grip your chin as he keeps thrusting, tears now running down your face. "look at those tears... is it too much for your little mouth baby?" he chuckles, holding you down for a moment before pulling you off of him. you gasp for air, saliva dripping from your mouth as you're still face to face with his cock. neteyam comes down to your level, hands travelling the curves of your slender body. "lie back" he hums, skillfully removing your loincloth before your back hits the grass underneath you.

you spread your legs without your mate having to ask as he kneels between them, his left hand gently resting on your lower stomach while his right slowly begins to circle your clit, puffy under his touch. your efforts to try and grind against his fingers failed as he pressed you down, the circling of your clit slowing even more. "neteyam! please!" you whine, reaching for his wrist in an attempt to get him to continue. "what? what could you possibly want? hm?" he provokes, sliding his middle and ring finger through your wetness. you whine more at the touch, "finger me, please ma'teyam, fìtxan mei". your back arches immediately as his fingers push into you, your pussy clenching around them. "thank you, oh eywa-" you mewl, hardly able to control your noises. "that's it, take my fingers baby.." he whispers, the speed of his fingers bringing you close already. your moans start to increase in volume, chest rising and falling rapidly. "i- i'm gonna-" before you can finish your sentence you feel neteyam pull his fingers out, sucking them into his mouth as he watches you squirm from the loss of orgasm.

"that's not fair!" you exclaim, sitting up to face him. "oh but it is..." he smirks, ushering you back to your previous spot, his hand pumping his cock a few times. he lines himself up before taking your legs and pressing them back against your chest, your hands gripping his forearms as he enters you finally. your eyes flutter shut as he stretches you immensely, his fingers pressing hard into your thighs. "so tight still.." he groans, beginning to thrust and gain momentum while the squelching sounds of your pussy become very prominent. "neteyam fuck, holy fuck" you moan loudly, mind completely jumbled. "i know, narlor... you're so fucking good" he pushes your legs back even further (which is somehow possible) before picking up his speed, slamming into you at an ungodly pace. "oh great mother! shit!" you squeal, your hands now grasping at the grass below you so tight that you start to rip it out from the ground. "fìtxan mowan... that's my girl" neteyam growls, one hand coming back to your clit and toying with it rapidly. "so close babygirl- cum with me, come on, show me" he moans, the knot inside of you forming once again.

all you can do is whine and mewl as neteyam starts to cum, his cock twitching inside of you as you're about to fall over the edge again. "fuck yes! fuck, cum for me, cum for me.." he breathes, his own orgasm just finishing as yours begins, his cock getting pushed out of you as you squirt, gushing all over your own thighs and his cock. "oooh that's it, yes.." he admires as your legs shake, your mouth open with no noise escaping from the pure ecstasy that was your orgasm. you giggle as you come down, reaching for neteyam. he leans over you, pressing his lips against yours lovingly and smiling into it.

"i love you" you smile at him after the kiss, pushing a braid behind his ear. "i love you too, sorry for the- you know... possessiveness" he blushes softly, taking your hand and pressing a kiss to each knuckle. "it's okay, it made for good sex".

[sincerelymina]

shades of cool

content ꒰ 4.0k ꒱ damnation leon x female reader.  unrequited love.  slight age difference if ya nasty.  hard angst.  hurt/no comfort.  mild smut (p in v).  very very toxic behavior from leon.  you just want to be loved.  leon couldn't care less—but there's a catch. he says the thing !! could also be interchangeable with vendetta leon. not proofread. author's note shoutout to @vaaaaaiolet for the endless support & help !! be sure to check her stuff out as well, they're a godsend. i listened to a weird mix of lana del rey and jeff buckley while writing this, so do with that what you will. reblogs & comments are highly appreciated !! ꣑ৎ

moonlight pours in through the curtains, casting a soft glow in the embrace of your bedroom. every night slowly began to feel longer than the last, sleep eluding you despite the exhaustion that lingered in your bones. you lay there, staring up at the ceiling, the weight of leon's absence pressing heavily onto your chest. nine days of unrelenting radio silence. 

you missed the comfort of his presence, the rough kisses he'd leave on your soft lips, the sweet nothings he'd coo into your ears as he thrusted in & out of you like his life depended upon it. 

the darkness whispers into the tiny room, enticing your doubts and fears, weaving them into the delicate fabric of your thoughts. maybe he ran into ada. despite the sour taste the theory left behind, it made sense, much to your dismay. 

you had nothing on her. how could a tough agent, known to be quick on her feet, be so naïve to think that leon truly was over the woman in red—did you seriously think he was in love with you now? it was pitiful by all means. 

whatever you had going on with the man, it was anything but love. sure, you might've been so utterly transfixed by the man, enough to the point where you always at his beck and call. but he surely didn't feel as strongly towards you. you were just easy, so pliable in his calloused hands. leon was a cruel, broken man that simply took what he wanted and left you with nothing.

yet still, you'd be waiting for him with open arms—and legs.

you were like a moth, irresistibly drawn to a flame that would eventually burn you. a light that you'd always come crawling back to, even if it singed your wings.

rain pelted against your window, bathing the room in a comfortable silence, spare for the pitter-patter upon glass. it does little to quell the hollow beating of your heart, the racing thoughts in your restless mind. this week had been full of one too many sleepless nights. you just wanted to finally succumb to your exhaustion, pretend leon didn't exist just for a few hours.

but you were too damn weak. such a slave for his attention, for his "love." you'd do just about anything for the older man's approval. everything about your self-worth was based upon those icy blues. not even the desire to sleep could surpass the desperation for him. 

leon's shoulders sagged as fatigue coursed through his blood, hot and heavy. rain splatters against the bottoms of his dark blue jeans, his motorcycle coming to a halt in front of your apartment complex. with a smooth twist of the throttle and a gentle squeeze of the brakes, the tires skid against the gravel, followed by the rumble of the engine fading into a soft purr. 

his brown hair was sodden with water droplets, the strands sticking to his forehead. a sharp sigh left the expanse of his lungs as he swung his leg over the seat and dismounted from his bike. just his luck, leon thought with a grimace, that a storm hit mid-ride.

as he walked through the lobby, heading straight for the elevator, leon silently wondered what the hell he was doing. a part of him felt unbelievably guilty for taking advantage of your feelings like this, always expecting you to allow him into your place, even on a whim like this. especially after not bothering to send a single text to you for well over a week.

the pad of his thumb pushes the button, the elevator doors splitting open. leon pushes any feelings of shame to the far back of his mind, focusing on the main task at hand—sex. that's all this was to him after all. he couldn't be bothered with commitment. 

years of slaving away for the government had etched a weariness into his bones, leaving him a hollow shell of who he once was. one whose heart, that once yearned for love—similar, if not identical, to the kind you felt for him—now laid dormant beneath a shroud of emotional detachment. 

that kept the guilt that wrapped around his heart at bay, a poor excuse for how he treated you.

a few moments pass before the elevator's doors slide open with a soft hum. leon steps out, finding his way to your place as if it were second nature, which at this point, it was safe to say it was. his muscles memorized the entire way, every twist and turn. soon enough, he was right at your doorstep, anticipation thrumming in his veins.

a knock against the front door shattered the silence that encased your apartment, the sound of someone's fist rapping against the wood rippling through the quiet atmosphere. it causes you to jerk upwards, afraid of who might be waiting at the door at two in the fucking morning. it couldn't be leon, he was the last person you expected—then again, him showing up on a whim wasn't a foreign notion between the two of you. 

expecting the worst, you kick the comforter off your body, allowing it to cascade to the ground as you carefully step outside your bedroom. swiping your handgun off the kitchen counter—because of course, you'd carelessly left it there—you then pad down the threshold, one foot in front of the other.

the sound of shuffling on the other side of the door isn't lost on leon, to which he furrowed his brows, wondering why you were taking your sweet time heading towards it. "it's me," he says gruffly, the deep baritone reverberating off of the hallway's walls. 

you could recognize that voice from a mile away, unfortunately. your heart thumped in the confines of your chest, beating erratically at the knowledge of who was behind that door. you swallow hard, hand hovering over the cool metal of the knob before turning it slowly, revealing the man you had been longing to see.

remnants of the pouring rain outside glistened on his worn leather jacket as leon stood stiffly in the doorway, with a sullen yet exhausted expression sewn between his features. droplets clung to his hair, tracing rivulets down his face like tears mingling with the dark circles beneath his eyes. icy blues pierce through your own. he was so gorgeous, it physically pained you.

he was actually here, at your doorstep, in the flesh.

a puzzled look finds its way onto your face, mingling with the tiredness in your eyes. in disbelief, you mutter, "leon?"

"can i come in?" leon asks, not giving you any context as to why he just showed up after days of no communication. his eyes rake over you, taking in your appearance—tousled hair, thin tank top and shorts, sluggish demeanor. you looked so pretty in the dim light.

"it's two am." you say matter-of-factly, eyes now glued to the floor. 

his jaw clenches, biting his tongue to hold back a snarky remark you didn't deserve. hell, you should've just slammed the door on his face, without a single word, and he would have no right to be angry at you about it.

so, leon resorts to simply inquiring, "is that a no?"

"not exactly," your voice was subdued, weak. should you let him inside? you mull over the thought, letting it ripple through your mind, like a pebble dropped in a pond. despite your better judgment, you step aside, letting him walk past you and into your humble abode. he mutters a quiet thanks as he shrugs his jacket off.

the living room held its breath along with the two of you, the air thick with unspoken words. the silence stretched like a taut wire, vibrating with the weight of your incessant thoughts. with a heavy sigh, leon collapsed onto the couch, sinking into the soft cushions. you hate how he's acting as if everything between the two of you was normal, like he hadn't been deliberately ignoring you for days.

"so…" you break the stillness, unable to take it anymore. "are you just going to pretend everything is okay, like you haven't been ignoring every single one of my calls?" despite how fragile you sounded, your misery was clear as day. 

"here we go," leon grumbles to himself, still audible enough for you to hear. "listen, i was busy, okay?" his tone goes shifted from quiet to frustrated, refusing to look you in the eyes as you tentatively stood a few feet away from him.

bitterly, he adds, "and i'm not obligated to. i'm not your little boyfriend. how many times do i have to remind you?" sure, it might've been common courtesy, but leon was stretched thin tonight, leaving you demurred and him unbothered. 

"i'm sorry," you sigh pathetically, feeling helpless. 

but instead of easing his nerves, your apology only further agitates him, "oh, now you're gonna go all pouty baby on me? give me a break." leon hisses, each word a stab to the heart. "jesus, you're hopeless." his eyes meet yours again, only this time with displeasure glimmering solemnly.

desperate for a shred of salvation, you clung to what little self respect you had left in your bones, determined to salvage any dignity you still possessed after all this. 

your brows knit in frustration, retorting back just as harshly, "you're the one who keeps showing up at ungodly hours, always expecting me to bend to your fucking will. you never call, never text, unless i do first, yet always expect me to welcome you in." 

your fists clench, fingernails digging crescents into your palms. you couldn't stand it anymore, being his bitch, always so compliant, so understanding of his random bursts of insensitivity. you could just tell that deep down, he knew this meant more to you, giving him all the more reason to keep coming back—it didn't help that you were really pretty too. he was blatantly taking advantage of your love, and with zero remorse at that, as the cherry on top.

leon groans in pure frustration, eyes fluttering shut, as his head tilted backwards, "i'm too fucking tired for this shit." brown locks of hair partially obscure the side of his face, a perfect silhouette of his side profile on display—he was infuriatingly handsome. he stood up, fixing you a look that could slice through stone. 

"i don't ever see you slamming the door in my face. you let me in like it's the one thing you're good at. always so fucking desperate to please someone who couldn't care less about you." 

the words are crueler than he wished they'd be, regret instantly hitting him like a pile of bricks. he could say he didn't mean that all he wants, but the words flowed so seamlessly, without a single stutter or falter. it was plain as day that this was how he truly felt—the raw, unequivocal truth. once spoken, undeniably irrevocable. and you both knew this.

and it stung, like a hard slap across the face. you would've preferred for him to do that; at least the pain would've withered away far quicker than the mental anguish you were left with now. even in his fit of rage, the defeated, wide-eyed expression you donned tugged at leon's heartstrings. 

uncomfortable silence lingers in the air like bad perfume. "don't look at me like that," leon mumbles softly. this wasn't how the script was supposed to unfold. you finally proved that you had some pride left in you, but he was so quick to shoot you down. everything had unraveled in the worst way possible.

his voice soft and gentle now, abandoning its previous ire. leon's mood always flipped like a light switch, annoyingly so. 

"i'm sorry, doll." apologizing felt like pulling teeth, and to his dismay, it was falling upon deaf ears. leon wasn't cruel, just unbelievably damaged. and unfortunately, you happened to be the best outlet to release that misery onto. it wasn't an excuse for how awfully he treated you, but rather an explanation. 

if you had half a mind you would've ended this charade long before it got to this level—for you, at least. things only seemed to be getting worse, and it was becoming more obvious that this was just a game to leon, while you were smitten. 

"forget it, leon, you should just go." you say lowly. 

"don't be like that." leon didn't want this trip to be a waste. "it's not my fault you're emotionally invested. i thought we made it crystal clear from the start that this wouldn't mean anything. zero commitment, zero obligations." a beat of silence passes, before he adds, "listen, if this is going to be a problem, we should stop this. now." 

he could always find another girl to suit his needs. one that wouldn't cling to his leg like a lonesome child.

"i don't get it," you mumble, eyes finally meeting his. tears dew your lashline, but you wouldn't dare cry in front of him. "it's obvious that you've known for a while that i have feelings for you…" the realization finally creeps in like a cold draft through a cracked window. "you're using me?"

"using you?' he muses, cocking an eyebrow in confusion. leon has to fight the urge to roll his eyes. "you women and your emotions." he chides. "how many times is it gonna take for you to get it through that pretty little head of yours? this never meant anything to me. it never will." 

you bite the corner of your lip, pressing down hard, but not enough to bleed. you stood there, shoulders hunched and eyes downcast, the cruel words washing over you like vehement waves, trembling hands fumbling with the hem of your shorts, as if seeking refuge from the storm of anger. no had ever made you feel this insignificant before.

leon's lips part slightly, suddenly becoming acutely aware of something you'd rather he didn't figure out. "...you thought i was going to eventually fall for you, didn't you? jesus, i didn't think you were that naïve." he laughs—the first smile he cracked tonight was at your misery. "i almost feel bad."

mr. i'm sorry. mr. i didn't mean that. mr. i'm just tired.

fighting back tears, you hiss, "just leave."

you could slap the smug look right off his face, the air of superiority that clung to him like heavy cologne being enough to piss you off. leon was well aware of the chokehold he held you in—he reaped the benefits of your feelings at every given chance. it felt good having a girl like you always at an arm's reach, spare for the times you'd get all "emotional" and "clingy" on him. 

leon thinks about leaving, the mere idea pissing him off beyond belief—he rode all this way, in the pouring rain no less, just to make you feel like a piece of shit. no kisses, no sex, not even a single touch. deep down, he hated the reflection of his own bitterness that he spewed towards you. he hated how easily his words hurt you, how easily they spilled out of his mouth. this wasn't who he was, or at least, who he once was. after all, you were just a sweet girl who was irrevocably in love with him. 

"fine," he ceases, concealing the anger he felt at his core—you didn't deserve anymore than what you'd already been cursed with tonight. 

pathetically, you watch as he tugs his leather jacket back on, sliding his arms through the sleeves quickly. you feel the urge to apologize bubbling up to the surface, but for what? you hadn't done anything wrong, simply stood your ground, defended what dignity you had left. he doesn't mean any of it, your mind feeds you lies, he's just hurt cut him some slack. 

leon's hand lingers on the doorknob for a second too long, hesitating his next move. your eyes narrow in confusion. cautiously, you take a few steps towards him, each one feeling like a march to the executioner's chopping block. 

"fuck it," leon huffs, hand abandoning the cool metal, and now seeking refuge on your hips, pulling you flush against him as his lips meet yours. this wasn't right, he wasn't thinking straight, clearly lost in a haze of frustration. but he couldn't help himself. you reciprocating the kiss didn't help his case either. 

a soft, content hum left your lips as his mesh onto yours so seamlessly. it's anything but sweet and delicate, rather laced with hunger and raw unadulterated lust. his rough hands smooth up your stomach, your thin tank top riding up in their wake. you can feel the desperation oozing off of his lips, from the way his tongue pushes past the crack of your own lips.

you're like putty in his hands, forgetting all the spiteful things he'd just said to you, only focusing on how good this felt. he inadvertently called you his bitch—any sane person would've happily shoved him out the door, but here you were, melting into his unprompted kiss. the things you do for love.

lips still smothering yours, he mumbles, "this a good enough apology for you, doll?" his breath fans against your skin, mingling with yours as he shoves you up against the nearest wall. 

"mhm," you're thinking with everything but your head, succumbing to the rush that coursed hotly through your veins. "i'm sorry," but leon shuts you up by plunging right back in. he knows you shouldn't have to apologize, but he doesn't care enough to tell you to give it a rest.

"such a sweet girl, always so understanding," he chuckles breathily. your lips were enough to calm his nerves. "i hate hurting you like this, but you just…" his tone grows solemn, but he pushes such thoughts to the back of his mind, focusing solely on making both of you feel good.

his words struck a chord in you. but you just… just what? you don't want to think too hard about it, that could be done in the morning, once your left all alone in a sea of white bedsheets. when the regret of surrendering to your self-indulgence had fully settled in.

sooner rather than later, you're sprawled out beneath leon, stripped down to nothing. a mix of both of your clothing are scattered across your bedroom floor, joining the rest of the pre-existing mess. your skin is slick with a thin layer of sweat, a testament to just how badly leon had you worked up. it's hard to muffle your breathy moans, to which he can only say:

"ah, come on. don't be shy." he teases, tilting his head while placing a sloppy kiss on your rosy lips. a sharp thrust is what finally draws out a loud moan from your lips, his cock buried deep inside your sopping cunt, "that's my girl."

calloused hands roam all over your soft skin, tracing your every curve, every dip, feeling you in your entirety. you hate how effortlessly he brought you to heaven, how you could feel every inch of him pumping in and out of you. seeing you like this, eyes fluttered shut and lips parted, reminded leon why he hadn't stopped seeing you yet. 

the room is bathed with the sounds of your choked moans and his grunts. his name falls off your lips like its your only prayer, coupled with a slew of desperate pleas. your hands grasp onto his back for support, nails digging crescents into the skin as they drag down, leaving scratches in their wake. 

his hips rolled against yours as his thrusts got messier and rougher, practically slamming in and out of you. your back arches against the memory foam of your mattress, an embarrassingly loud moan leaving your lips as you feel his tip kiss against your cervix. 

"fuck, leon, don't stop," your nails dig even deeper into his skin. 

"wasn't planning on it," leon groans, feeling your velvety walls clamp around his cock. "god, you're so perfect," another wet kiss planted upon your open lips. it's a blessing the bed hadn't given in and snapped yet. 

you're seeing stars at this point, the coil in your stomach tightening with every thrust, pulled taut like violin strings. it's not until leon hits right there that your eyes snap open, glimmering with pleasure, earning a desperate mewl. a smirk plays on his lips. it was ironic how he could make you feel so awful, so miserable, but simultaneously brought you this. 

"oh, you like that, don't you?" he grunts, hitting that same spot repeatedly, determined to make you cum all over his cock. "yeah, i bet you do. pretty thing like you doesn't deserve any less," sweat drips down his forehead, his hair sticking to it. 

"i'm so close," you whimper, the mattress creaking beneath you. 

"i know you are," leon takes pride in the scrunched up look of pure ecstacy on your face, white hot pleasure shooting through his own veins. 

it only takes a few more thrusts before you cry out his name, mumbling a cluster of curses and pleas as you rode out your high. heaven was always a place on earth with leon—spare for the times the two of you weren't in bed. 

it doesn't take long for leon to finish as well, shooting his load on your stomach, not particularly in the mood for an unwanted pregnancy from a girl he barely cared about. completely out of breath, leon sighs, rolling over to the empty spot next to you on your bed. his back falls against the mattress, a million thoughts racing through his mind, all a vehement maelstrom of regret.

i should've left he thought, eyes flitting over to you, who seemed like she was still on cloud nine. guilt pangs in his heart, no longer left in a lust-filled haze. he can only stare up at the ceiling, almost in a similar manner to the way you did only an hour earlier. 

no one felt post-nut clarity like leon did.

you, on the other hand, felt like a million bucks. your chest rose and fell slowly, reeling back in after your orgasm. but nonetheless, leon's cruel words hit you like a freight train, coming back to you all at once in your state of bliss. the reality of your situation creeps in like a thief in the night. 

all you are is—for lack of better words—his bitch.

as the first light of dawn kisses the horizon, the sun rises gently, painting the sky with hues of gold and rose, awakening the world in a tender embrace. left in nothing but a flimsy pair of lacy panties, you stir around in bed, eyes fluttering open as you take in your surroundings. despite the lack of sleep you got the night prior, the mere sunlight still roused you awake.

and of course, just as you anticipated, there's an empty spot right next to you. just one morning you wished to have strong arms caging you in their embrace. but no.

as long as you kept this charade up with leon, this was all you'd get.

frantically, you swipe your phone off of your nightstand—maybe he sent you a text? disappointment etches onto your face as the pad of your thumb presses the power button, only to be met with a handful of notifications, not a single one from leon.

jesus, you were hopeless.

[jolalibrary]

vii. take care of me

frankie morales x f!reader | chapter seven of i like the way you

best friend! friends with benefits! frankie morales summary: what starts off as an offhand remark, quickly becomes a regular, scheduled 'stress relief'. the only problem is, both of you are in denial that you feel anything outside of friendship for the other.

warnings: friends with benefits. fwb! rules. flirting. idiots who are so in love it’s stupid. feelings. smut - p in v. reader has a bad day, soft romantic fucking.

word count: 4.7k

an: the biggest thanks to @thetriumphantpanda who read this before bake off and left me a bunch of comments that made me so excited, you almost had this chapter yesterday.

You had seemed downtrodden before he rocked up and ‘broke a rule’.

His pretence at forgetting all quickly seen through, as though he’s transparent. He had wanted to explain that he had only wanted to cheer you up, but you looked less in the mood for an apology than you did an explanation.

So he swallowed both.

From the middle of the week, he had suspected something was wrong. When he had finally managed to call you, you had sounded so close to tears, that he wondered whether he should drive back sooner.

Especially when you had barely laughed at a joke he made on one of his commutes back to the hotel—barely even answering when he asked it if was his movie choice or yours.

I don’t mind. You always mind. If I remember right, you have a real thing about me always pickin’ the movie, querida. Well, I don’t today, okay? You can pick—I—Frankie, I have to go.

When the end call tone flooded the bed of his truck, he’d strongly suspected that you’d fought your way off the phone with him so you could crumble. Cracking yourself open into a bunch of shards, all pressure-cooked by the weight of everything you take on, only to say you’re fine.

It’s why he had driven past your place the day before he had made plans to see you. Fighting with himself about getting out and going up to your door. Weighing up the options as to whether checking on you tonight or waiting for tomorrow would be best.

Then there was the fact he wasn’t sure if it was as your best friend or as someone who hopes for something more.

The lines blurred, practically erased. A speech is likely needed, but he’s as poor with words as he is with owning how he feels, so it’s easier to stuff them down—to drive away, wait.

It’s why he grabbed it to begin with. Why he’d been grabbing them since you put the darn rule in place anyway. A habit, a part of his routine seeing you—a thing he did to show you that you mattered, were important, cared for.

Which is why he’d wrestled with him again on whether to leave it in the car when he walked up to your front door or not.

“You broke a rule.”

You look glum, defeated. Whatever your working week had done to you, it had stolen more from you than you’d been able to—never mind willing to give.

And it fractured a part of him. Made his shoulders sink, his heart sinks—because nothing hurt him more than the look on your face. The one which should be full of smiles and twinkling eyes.

Kissing your cheek, he closes your front door behind him. “I think you’ll forgive me.”

You just snort. Momentarily smothering the sadness that had been there before he’d showed you the bottle—whatever had upset you buried, all of it being quickly hidden as you placed the wine down and picked up your water bottle.

It forces more confusion to swirl inside of him, more so as you begin to go back and forth with him on food, on what he wants to watch, and whether he wants to share a blanket or have his own.

He replies in his usual tone, even if his attention is split into equal parts—one part focused on the little things you do, the mannerisms you’re not aware to pretend. The other on the IKEA furniture he built, the memories pricking him, needling, making the zipper of his jeans suddenly feel uncomfortable over his cock.

“Work been okay?”

Your mouth falls open, all set to answer, but then something shifts in your eyes. A shadow—possibly—it dancing across the plain, suddenly all but desperate to thump its way out.

Then the words never come. Swallowing instead, discarding whatever you'd been about to say—pushing it back before any lingering parts of it are blinked away as you offer a nod.

“Yeah. Yours?” you answer, but your tone isn’t right.

It’s flat, without its usual infliction. There isn't any edge to your words, nor a tease or taunt, not even a Morales in sight. And, the smile you paint doesn’t quite reach the eyes.

It’s practically humming now, the fact something is wrong. It simmers, hanging around, whistling through the air.

Yet, you don’t break, don’t confess it all to him like you had once done with such ease. Instead, you just smear another smile on your face, nudging him, phone in hand as you mumble about food options and what he wants as you lead him to the sofa.

He knows on the surface, it looks the same—how the night is playing out. But it’s different. In all the ways he doesn’t want to put his finger on, and doesn’t want to acknowledge. Not as you order food, not as you chew the inside of your cheek as you wait for the order to be accepted.

Even less so when you mumble about the film, reaching for your remotes.

It's then he decides what he wants to do is take the remote from your hand as soon as you pick it up. Frankie wants to hold your fingers in his, even place a kiss on your wrist. He wants to place two fingers under your chin, and ask you again to tell him what has happened—wanting to be let him in, be shared with.

He wants you close, and not like friends do. A need to have your head to his chest, his fingers sliding gentle strokes against your cheek and neck, offering comfort, providing it in plenty.

His own head turns the options over, planning it out, trying to guess what the various outcomes are. Which, by the time he reacts, instead of managing to grasp your hand, he knocks the remote from your hand with a clatter.

Ears burning, he feels your glare before he truly appreciates it. It ripples out over him before it’s blinked away—a momentary flood of fire licking at his skin.

In the oddest way, it’s at least reminiscent of the person he knows. The sharpness in your eyes is more a friend to him right now than the gnawing going on in his chest. Especially, while the rest of you is lost to whatever you’re trying to pretend doesn’t exist.

“What?”

It’s simple, one word.

Almost feels normal. It's all sharp and layered, just like it usually is. Followed by your body sinking into the array of cushions you decorate your sofa with as you pull up his pick, rolling your head to him—nail-picking at the battery cover on your remote.

And he wants to ask again—just like he always would have done.

Instead, Frankie places his hand on your knee, thumb and index swirling over the cloth-covered bone as you look at the television briefly, before flicking back to him.

In the silence, it’s louder—the whistling. It's suddenly accompanied by the noticeable noise of your brain whirring, your cogs turning.

“Talk to me,” he whispers, but secretly he's pleading, begging.

He watches as your teeth pick at your lip, snuggling yourself further into the couch—knee abutting his leg as you sigh. “It's... nothing. Can we... can we just watch the movie?”

“Hey, of course we can. Is…”

He can't ask.

Fearful of asking. A lump forms in his throat, sticking, thickening second by second as he flicks his eyes over you.

Before you can blink it away, he spots it again. The shift in your eyes.

This time instead of a shadow, they fill with water. They vanish any part of your truth that wished to escape in its drowning. Before he can poke and push, you blink it away as quickly as it had first arrived.

And it needles him, pricks at his skin and stabs into his chest, twisting and twisting and twisting—

“I just… wanted my best friend,” you mumble.

“That it?”

You seem to fight it, whatever it is inside of you, before you curl against his arm again, tugging your blanket up closer. “I really missed you this week, that's all.”

It’s been on his to-watch list for ages, and yet he’s one hour into it and he has no clue what is happening.

The pizza box is still half-open on the coffee table, your plate still remaining with picked-at food that you never really made any dent in, and he blames that as to why he doesn’t even know who the good guy is and who is bad.

Because all of the parts of his brain that usually begin working on undoing and arranging what he thinks will and is happening, are working in overdrive on you.

It's also stopping his heart from hammering even louder down your ear. Because, even if the two of you have cuddled before—lots of times—it's not been post the whole sleeping together thing.

And, it feels nice having you against him, normal, right.

He likes the way your fingers occasionally clutch him a little closer, head turned in the direction of the television and the movie he should be watching.

Instead, he's piecing together the puzzle you've thrown on the floor. The one without the box lid, so no image to compare it to. Trying to assess where you missing him, lines up with the way your bottom lip almost wobbled as you confessed it, as though it was a sin and not a virtue.

Frankie tries to line it up with the fact he knows whenever he's found a moment to himself, he’s texted you. The sea of other unread messages piling up, collecting.

It adds to the knowledge that all of the normal conversation he has with you, quickly derails, slipping into something foreign yet wonderful. Casual phone calls, divert into him with his hand around his cock, listening to you breathlessly say his name and that you wish he was there.

And that somewhere between collecting the sweet noises you make and those innocent-but-not-innocent moments, are the soft moments he has where you’re resting—where Frankie has realised, decided and accepted, that there is nowhere else he likes being.

Not a single place.

Because he wants this.

Frankie wants the calmer person he is when he's around you, the thoughts which are less intrusive. He likes that the rain barely bothers him when he has you in his arms, that he doesn’t even overthink, if anything he just plans. Considering things, turning them over, thinking of a future that begins to sketch itself out and colour itself in.

Something which has been doing so since the time in the car.

Your words rolling and rolling, stitching themselves to other phrases you’ve let slip, until he’s sewing things together to create a gallery, a museum of moments he loves admiring and replaying when the world goes silent.

That's when he notices the movie, the shit-show of a plan formed involving a helicopter, and the words roll from him without stopping.

"That would never fuckin' happen. Not—can you imagine, if I said to you—" and he rambles. Feels himself doing so. So comfortable and at ease more and more things just flow and fall from his lips.

Even when the scene changes in the movie, more bright light than the softer one from before, forcing him to blink—he is still detailing how inaccurate it is. Only slowing to nothing when he realises you’re looking up at him. Hanging on to every word as though he's a poet reading something beautiful.

He feels the way they tracing him then, lightly glazing over all his features as he slowly holds your stare.

Because it’s the kind of gaze he sees in the movies you make him watch. The lingering ones—a blend of both fiery and craving. It all peppered with yearning, and swirling in so much he suspects you don’t want to say.

“You’re going to miss the movie.”

Blinking, you smile. Feeling you flick your eyes from him to his mouth. “Am I?”

Your smile slides further into your cheek, and he can’t help but brush his thumb over it. A dire need to touch you, brush your soft skin and remind himself how you feel.

He doesn’t expect it, but he likes that you curl into his hand. It allows him to trace his fingers along your jaw, down the side of your neck. Half-expecting you to tell him to stop, that tonight isn’t about that.

You don’t.

Instead, your hand cups his against your cheek, staring at him, lit up by the flickering scenes neither of you are paying attention to.

Faintly, blooming out in the shimmer of your eyes, he thinks he sees it again—what he thinks is adoration. It mixing, blending, swirling with care, love…

“Thought you wanted your best friend?”

“I do,” you say, low, just above a whisper, “So, take care of me.”

A second passes as your words drip into the air.

So take care of me.

His eyes flick over you. Likely needing you to say it again, give permission, tell him you want this.

You do. Fuck you do.

Your heart hammering against your chest like a drum because of it. All unable to speak, fearful, fucking petrified, with how much you want him.

Because all you do is want him, and if you speak, you worry you won’t stop telling him that.

Let it fall, leak. Slip out and stain like oil on a sheet.

Because you know it's only normal to miss him this much for one reason, and one reason alone. It's the same reason why you want him, crave him, and feel so desperate for him that you can’t think or breathe. It is all-encompassing, looming, forever there in between the days you don't see him and the waiting on replies to texts.

It’s so close to your tongue, held back only by your teeth.

It could come out, could escape. So you keep your mouth clamped shut. It is better, easier, and less bothersome than telling him you’ve been counting down the hours, minutes, and seconds until you could have your hands on him. Not for this, not because he makes you feel good and beautiful and wanted, but because you feel better. Happier. More you. You feel safe, like no bad work day could ever touch you.

“Querida…”

“I want y—”

The rest of your words are swallowed, stolen. Frankie seals his mouth over yours, barely needing a sentence, just enough.

And it’s searing, full of ache as his hands pull you close, your body singing, itching to come alive—has been since the scent of just him hit your nose.

The worst of days doesn’t matter when he’s around you, less so when his lips marry to yours, when he licks into your mouth, when he breathes you in, and you breathe him.

No one else has ever made you feel like he does.

Not the way your feet almost kick out when his message arrives, a smile gracing your mouth without control when he calls you.

Because he’s different, but then he always has been.

There's always been something, it thriving and growing, embedding vines you pretend are just because you're good friends. But you know, you do. It's hard not to.

Frankie saves you, oblivious to the silent plea for rescue—he just knows. He gets you. Understands every inch of you now, you're unsure how anyone else can ever read you as well. He's someone you could confidently rely on, knowing he’d never leave you alone, not even in the dark—forever a light, a way home.

You think you’re that for him too. Hope so anyway.

He moans your name. Kissing you like he never wishes to stop. He acts like he wants to drown in you, be overflowed by you, and fuck you want the same.

Mine. That’s what you want to say.

Instead, you bury it in a low moan when his mouth captures yours, tongue sliding past your teeth as his hands come to rest on your cheeks. Each touch softer, gentler—from the way he moves his fingers over your cheek, to the way he slides them over your jaw, landing on your neck.

Then, his mouth comes to your ear, breath dancing, all flooded with the flickering television—let’s go to your bed.

He doesn’t rip, he peels your layers off, leaving a trail leading right to your room. He smothers your body with his, his palm remaining flat to your spine, leading, hooking his fingers around the back of your neck as he steers you.

Careful, hermosa.

The consideration dripping from his lips like syrup, all adorned in affection, a taste you have to capture, spinning in his hold, hooking your arms around his neck as you pull him flush, close.

“Tell me you want me,” he hisses.

There's an edge that isn’t usually there but it’s pounding now, all sparkling and fucking shimmering.

You’re more sure of it when he lies you back on your sheets, his mouth exploring, taking his time, taking you to the edge with his mouth as you plead and plead—one hand sliding up over the softness of your stomach, as your back arches into him.

And you shudder, so close to your high—hips held down by his arm. “I want you, Frankie. Always want you. Want you inside of me.”

He pauses—cool air blowing over you as he flicks his eyes up from between your thighs, his skin flushes, a light beading of sweat at his hairline as he comes up onto his palms.

Watching him crawl up you, eyes enamoured, unable to look anywhere else even if they were commanded to. Because he’s more than a sight for sore eyes, he is the sight. He’s the best-looking thing you’ve ever fucking seen, clutching his face in your hands, feeling him drag the head of his cock through your slick walls, staring at you in waiting, like he couldn’t believe this is happening.

“Again,” he asks.

Taking your hand in his, he slots his fingers between yours, fitting, ever so perfectly, before he places your conjoined hands above your head. Eyes tracing up and down your frame, more so as you arch into him, hearing the breathed-out expletive as you wait for his stare to land.

“I want you.”

And, thankfully, Frankie doesn’t let you linger on it. Doesn’t allow you to hyper-focus on it, slowly sliding in, pushing in by inch until you’re full of just him—no more of him left that you can greedily take.

“Always take me so well, baby—“

“Frankie.”

You’re breathless. The air punched from your lungs—his hand remaining knotted in yours, grounding, your nails digging into his skin as his other hand finds a place on the back of your thigh, eyes dropping, all fixated on where the two of you are joined.

“Y'so good for me. Always so good for me,” he adds when his hips are flush with yours. “Take my cock so well.”

Letting his gaze return to you, you’re suddenly so grateful for the bedside lamp you’d left on hours ago because now you get to see him. Admire him, so much so, it makes your throat dry.

Able to watch his muscles contort when he moves, lips parting as he slowly cants his hips into yours, all deep strokes.

And, you know it’s still fucking, but it’s also not.

It’s a unique blend of need that feels right, and also wrong—lips messily finding yours, burying confessions as you eagerly swallow them.

Hoping your throat, lungs or stomach could begin to decipher them as you feel his hand slide down your wrist, and arm until it's cupping your face. His lips slide over your cheek, resting close to your ear, whispering compliments. Because he has to tell you that you’re gorgeous, he says; that you're always so stunning.

Each word that lands has more than an effect on you, as he stutters when you clench around him.

Mouth wrapped around an exclamation of his name as he slides out and sinks back into you.

Frankie has always felt big, but from this angle, like this—he’s somehow deeper, filling you more. He's in your soul. It all filthy and romantic and obscene, but it feels so good, makes heat bloom through your hips and up into your spine, it twisting, eroding the bad day, the bad week.

In a sense, he’s the perfect antidote. A person you trust, care for, lo—

“You’re perfect, you know that?”

Frankie’s hand slides back to grip yours, pressing it down—lightly against the pillow above you, before placing the other beside it. And he’s enveloped in part shadows and the light from the table, blessed in golden hues, giving just enough to see how wild his eyes are and how deep the brown in them goes, how blown his pupils are.

“Do you know how beautiful you look right now?”

You feel your cheeks warm, your ears—every bit of skin on show suddenly inflamed because of his words. His mouth lapping at your breasts, all arched into him, hips steadily meeting his.

“Always are, really.”

“Well. You’re handsome, Morales.”

It’s intentional, adding his surname. Taking the softness out of it, removing what you can, and adding barriers and throwing up walls.

He still sucks in a breath, eyes lingering on yours, fingers dropping to brush a line up and down your cheek as he continues to slide his cock in and out of you. You moan as the head of him keeps kissing that part deep inside you.

It’s different.

You know it; he likely does too. Thankful he slants his mouth over yours. Slowly rocking with you, thrusting into you as you murmur his name, it falling enriched in moans.

From the way you both kiss, to the way you keep an arm around his neck, desperate to keep as much of him against yours.

“You feel so good, Frankie.” Your fingers scratch at the base of his neck. “Always make me feel so full.”

Stuffed really. Packed in. Clenching around him, all tightening, purposefully wrapping your walls around him until he groans right into your ear. Each drag of his cock in and out feeling exquisite, perfect, amazing.

It’s never been like this with others, never been like this even with him. His fucked out face, the grunts and groans coming from deep within make your thighs unable to stop their twitching as fire floods up your spine and the way he plunges you in lust-filled brown.

And you clutch his face, feverish from him, quivering, shaking. Burying the words, “So close, I’m gonna—fuck, I’m close baby,” against his mouth.

Pressing each letter in, stamping it—ensuring he knows it’s him doing this to you. Making a mess of you. The only person you ever want to make a mess out of you.

It thumping inside of you, hammering—all balled up fists and desperation because you want to tell him. Shout it at him. Paint the walls in it as he paints yours in white.

“Need you, Frankie.”

It’s close to the truth. Barely an inch from it.

“I know, need you too. Need to feel you come around me, hermosa. I need it, please. Please give it to me. Let me feel—fuck—feel you coming around my cock.”

And you hear it, the way he pleads—as well as realise the double meaning. You in the car, whispering words so close to the ones he’s spilling now.

“I will if you stay.”

He doesn’t still, but he does jolt. A hesitation in his pistoning.

Then he drops to his elbows around your face, cradling you, caging you in, as he kisses you—sloppily, messily, sweetly. It’s soft, but also full of heavy moans he wishes to force down your throat. It’s indulgent, a thing you never thought you’d have so now you take as much of it as you can get.

“Course I’ll stay. Never—fuck—anywhere I want to be but here, baby. Nowhere else.”

His eyes fix on you, digging the words in.

And, even if you knew it before, you realise how under your skin he is. How he’s woven in around tendons and ligaments, found a home, left marks against your bones you never want to rid.

You’re sure it’s that and not the words which make everything else mute.

Even if it’s all you can hear. Not the television in the other room, not the headboard clattering against the wall, not the sounds you’re making each time he drags his cock through your walls.

Just his words. Whatever he blesses you in. Your thoughts are all incoherent other than that. All shaky, practically vibrating; all gasping and torturous heavy heat, all unable to breathe and yet never wanting any of this to stop.

His hand slides around your thigh, pulling on your knee, bringing it closer as his grip almost grows bruising on you. He’s deep. Fucking into you so hard, hearing the concoction of his hisses, gasps and moans, before his mouth lands back on yours.

It’s overwhelming. The height you’ve reached, the way your mouth is only able to say his name as you watch him lick his thumb and distinctly feel it slide between the two of you. Finding it. Barely struggling to press the pad of it to your bundle of nerves before you lock up, the knot tightening, almost ripping inside of you.

It fraying from how much you’re fighting it, so close to bursting—

Then he draws quicker circles, all persistent, expertly, and you snap.

It surging, all white-hot, all blistering and mind-melting. You become both light and heavy all at once, your nails finding purpose in his side and your sheets, twisting, knotting to root yourself in this, in him—in how much you fucking love him.

“Fuck, querida—that’s it.”

You can’t respond, can’t even think up a response, but you do yank his mouth to yours. Pressing those three words there, laying them down, as well as thanking him, over and over until you slide your mouth against his cheek.

“Be good for me now, Frankie.”

His eyes flick to you, all ablaze and engulfed in want. And so you nod, knowing he can see it, feel it.

“Look so good, baby,” you add.

The noise is strained that comes from him, all sucked in breath. Then, his hips stammer, convulsing, all strangled, tightly entangled in a mess of your name and fuck.

And you kiss him.

Happily licking into his mouth to taste how delicious his moan is.

You try to fight the way your heart drops when you return from using the bathroom. Biting the inside of your mouth as you see the bed empty, sheets a mess, your throat swallowing back whatever sob wishes to escape.

Because the edges of your happiness crumble, your arm wrapping around the other, bottom lip almost wobbling.

That is, until you feel his hand on your lower back. Your head turns quickly, seeing him there. All hair-wild, and soft smile.

“Water, baby?”

Smiling, you thank him, taking several sips before handing it back to him, watching him do the same. Studying the way his throat bobs as he does, the faint marks of your mouth still lingering there on his skin.

“C’mon,” he whispers, kissing your cheek. “Let’s get in bed.”

“Oh, but the—“

“I’ve sorted it. Turned it off—folded the blanket, put the plates in water.” His hand wraps itself around yours. “So, let’s sleep.”

All you can muster is an okay. It leaves soft, slightly webbed at the edges from the way it catches on the growing lump in your throat.

It isn’t until you’re curled against him,

“Is this okay?” you whisper.

He lets out a laugh, little and breathy. “More than okay, hermosa.”

Guiding your leg to hook over his. Keeping his body flush as the two of you cuddle. His thumb swipes across your cheek, forehead close to yours as his fingers fan out over your hip, and he presses a kiss to the space between your brows.

You’re pretty sure your heart just tripled in size.

And those three words, the ones which have amassed into a chunk in your chest have suddenly begun pulsing all on their own—a beat completely separate, you find, to the one which pumps blood around your body.

CHAPTER EIGHT ->

[emilicious0]

okay, so, im finding myself more and more attracted to Valentino. I mean im starting to simp 😵‍💫💀

so i'd love to see some gen sfw (and nsfw if you can but dont have to)

Maybe he started to like one of his workers or something (fem if possible but gn is fine)

He could like, work her with clients less and stuff, less videos, maybe less drugs 💀 anyway imma hop off now 😩

f!reader x valentino sfw and nsfw headcanons

TW: VALENTINO, abusive behavior, mdni

SFW

□ he really thinks he treats all of his workers good, which is kinda true (I strongly headcanon that v's may be a band of psychos, but they appreciate hard work and always offer good salaries)

□ you get a good amount of money and thats the reason you work so good as his assistant

□ he notices the hard work and slowly starts to treat you more like a friend (in his own way, like slapping your butt or whistling whenever you are passing by)

□ that behavior lasts for some time, until he sees you on your day off in a club with some other demon (who was your friend)

□ the two of you seem close and youre hugging each other, which made valentino see red

□ he was ready to jump inside and kill the bitch who dared to touch you, but vox called in asking him to be immeadiatly back in their tower for a meeting

□ after that valentino realises his feelings for you

□ the butt-slapping, cat-calling didnt stop and only became worse

□ he would call you nicknames now, the most used one is "baby"

□ you would get a lot more money than anyone else

□ also loves when you praise him

□ a drama queen, who loves when you take care of him (buying ice cream)

□ would try to trick you into making a deal with him (but he would eventually give up on that idea, since he wants you, to want him too)

□ actually tells you everyday how he loves you, or how beautiful you are, only to yell at you next moment for not loving him back

□ he would come to you drunk crying and you have to take him to bed and tuck him in

□ if you accept his feelings and you become a couple, he immediately fires you

□ becomes your sugar daddy, who asks for every second of your time in return

□ carries you around like a treasure, showing you off to everyone

□ gives you small gifts everyday, and not so small gifts too

□ he is the type to forget about the anniversary, but feel bad about it later

□ despite him being still physically active with his workers and vox, he is romantically absolutely yours

□ he has hard time listening for your problems, but he comforts you wrapping his wings around you and kissing you

□ he has hard times understanding a lot of things about your problems (hard for him to be there for you), but he tries to do it in his own way (physical affection)

□ valentino has his episodes when he bursts and shouts at you and everything, apologizing afterwards, but they will happen again

□ kinda enjoys scaring you, but with you it's never about physical abuse, more like teasing

□ sleeps more calmly next to you

□ doesn't allow you to leave him (it will crash him in every possible way if you do, resulting him to become obsessive and start stalking you)

NSFW

□ has any possible kink in existence

□ inpatient, rough

□ loves edging, into degrading (loves to degrade and wants to degrade you)

□ public sex is his favorite one (as well as group one)

□ roleplays with you a lot of his crazy scenarios

□ makes you watch him fuck with others (doesn't let you do the same)

□ but your sessions with him are super private bc they are different

□ switch (hard dom/top, soft sub/bottom)

□ loves seeing you on your knees for him

□ seeing you cry is his favorite turn on

□ threesome with vox✌️

[captain-astors]

Finished my reference sheets for @tokyoghoulartfight2024 at long last! (Note: I removed Aoki’s gold earring because it looked weird)

Individual profiles

Shizuya Kei: Quinx, Blood Type AB+, 5'10. 28.

A solo-operating First-class investigator who underwent the Quinx surgery with a Bikaku kagune from an ghoul known as Kelpie. Prior to meeting Aoki he was almost completely apathetic, but as the two have collaborated, Aoki's requests have rejuvenated a desire for life in him. Also, his vision is awful. He sees blurs of color at best.

Aoki: Ghoul, Blood Type A-, 5'3. 24.

The infamous S~ rank Kakuja, codenamed "Kelpie", currently imprisoned in Cochlea; the grey oversized clothing is his prison attire. However, as opposed to being forced there, Aoki is there by choice, comfortably living in safety from his fellow ghouls as he directs Shizuya to eliminate various ghouls and gives him the advice needed to do so. (Note: I accidentally switched his earrings around for the Kakuja form, the base ref has them right) DO:

Draw them in ships, they have a weird gay thing going on with each other but they can absolutely be weird with another person, just know they're a package deal. If one of them is dating a character the other one either will be too or will be third wheeling.

Draw them interacting with canon characters/your OCs

Change their outfits/hair/whatever as long as they're them, Aoki's markings are just little patterns he he's taught himself to make on his skin with RC cells out of boredom in Cochlea so they can take just about any shape.

Blood/gore/angst

Ask me any additional questions about them!

DO NOT:

Draw NSFW of them

lighten Aoki's skin (lighting and stuff affects it of course but he's not pale)

Mutual Story (under the cut for length but I strongly encourage anyone interested to read it!)

Shizuya grew up in an entirely unremarkable lower-middle-class family with even less remarkable grades; he was never really expected to go far by anyone, so when he was accepted into the CCG training school he believed it might finally be his time. In reality he just had an aptitude for fighting, and by looking at his records V determined that if he were to die in action his body would not be highly sought after and therefore make suitable food for the garden.

Though he doesn't know the latter, he managed to figure out the prior by the time he graduated, but continued as a rank 3 investigator on the principle that he simply didn't have anywhere else to go. Despite being a talented fighter, he was so severely dispassionate and depressed that he never rose through the ranks and amassed scars from simply being careless in fights. The only thing that really interested him was joining his coworkers at bars and such after their shift, but Shizuya didn't know how to start up a conversation and mostly just ended up listening silently as they chattered and feeling emptier than before.

Aoki, meanwhile, grew up on the streets with a burning resentment towards just about everyone. Despite being claimed as part of a "pack" of ghouls, they abandoned him and his mother when they were cornered by Investigators, and his mom, who had been sharing her food with Aoki, didn't have the strength to outrun them. Instead she hid him as best she could in an alleyway, covering him in tattered blankets as she was cornered. Aoki watched, horrified and powerless to help as they killed her and called ghouls heartless beasts.

Aoki has never been able to forgive the ghouls that abandoned him, nor himself for not trying to help her, even if at such a young age couldn't have done a thing regardless, so he channeled his self-loathing into external hatred of his own species. He almost strictly consumed ghouls, eventually developing his Kakuja.

The "Kelpie" name is more fitting than just aesthetics, as one of his main strategies was to use his day job as a dancer to lure fellow ghouls to his home under the guise of kinship, just to devour them. However, this worked progressively less as he developed a reputation among ghouls and the CCG alike, and counterattacks became increasingly threatening in spite of his strength.

Their meeting was little more than coincidence. Shizuya was assigned to dispatch some ghouls that had been causing trouble in the 10th district, and Aoki happened to be attacking the same group. Shizuya got to them first, while Aoki watched from a distance, undetected. Aoki was overcome with an idea as he saw Shizuya dispatch these ghouls without a single spark of the hatred that he'd seen in the investigators that killed his mother, just melancholy.

Aoki attacked Shizuya, fully covered in his Kakuja. Aoki slashed his face, and Shizuya realized rather starkly that this wasn't like his other fights, where he was injured out of a lack of caring; Aoki was fully capable of overpowering him. However, as the two fought, Aoki managed to pin him to the ground and have a conversation with the Investigator. Shizuya admitted he felt aimless, and Aoki promised to give him purpose if he guaranteed the latter's safety. Shizuya, who, as predicted had no real allegiance to humanity or morals and just wanted to feel wanted, agreed. Their "fight" then proceeded, and Shizuya, under Aoki's direction, gouged one of his Kakuhou out of his back.

The first Kakuhou he took from Aoki was turned into his harpoon-like quinque, and shortly thereafter when the primary Kakuhou had heald, it was extracted and placed within Shizuya. The concept was to leave the ghoul alive and regularly transfer RC cells from the original host so that the Kagune would acclimate and be controlled with much more ease and less risk; and all the while Shizuya was supposedly torturing Aoki for intel and compliance.

However, this was really anything but the case. Aoki allowed this all for the technical protection of Cochlea, specifically entrusting Shizuya with his Kagune. With the publicity disaster with Shiki Kijima shortly before Aoki was taken into custody, Shizuya managed to arrange for all monitoring of the room to be shut down while he was "interrogating" Aoki, so that the public would never get the chance to form empathy for a mistreated ghoul. In reality though, Shizuya merely uses this time to deepen his relationship with Aoki, and seek his direction in which ghouls must be killed, and which investigators might be lost along the way. Their path is one of mutually assured destruction.

Though before Shizuya had no particular love for anything, now, as long as he's killing under Aoki's request, he does so with a deeply unnerving bloodlust, but it is nonetheless a passion.

Aoki is a surprisingly capable emotional support, (he just willfully ignores his own problems), and tenderly caring for Shizuya's wellbeing has actually done wonders for the deeply hateful worldview he's surrounded himself ever since the death of his mother.

They're anchored by each other, and their time together in Aoki's cell is usually just embracing and consoling each other in a weirdly tender way as Shizuya tells Aoki about anyone he's killed for him, and Aoki advises Shizuya about using his Kagune or who to hunt.

Shizuya keeps Aoki safe, Aoki keeps Shizuya sane.

Also they kiss, I'm not really sure where to mention that, there's not an exact label on their relationship it's just desperate attachment and fondness, "dating" doesn't exactly cover it.

Other facts:

Their rings are a sign of promise to eachother, Shizuya usually hides his under a glove but he deeply enjoys wearing it visibly when he can.

Shizuya regularly delivers meat to Aoki, so that if needed Aoki can always break out. It's not foolproof but it's better than nothing. He also makes sure Aoki's administered RC suppressant dosage is way too low.

Aoki doesn't technically have a last name but between them he is Aoki Shizuya, Shizuya said something about "sharing his" and it stuck.

[virgoilluminati]

Hey guys,

I just wanted to come on here and do a quick check in. The world around us is slowly turning and i know how incredibly scary this can be.

I'm from the Uk, like many of you, and the amount of racist shit that's going on is UNBELIEVABLE. As i am white, i can only partly fathom how terrifying it may be to live here at the moment and I just wanted to ask and check if everyone is doing alright.

I don't want to put a downer on my page and i'm only a small blog but I just wanted to say that if anyone needs someone to talk to about it, or they feel overwhelmed please don't hesitate to get in touch. Sometimes its better to talk to someone you don't know because it doesn't hurt as much to open up.

I may be white or have never experienced any racial discrimination in my life, but I am currently studying international relations and have quite a vast knowledge about racial politics. If people need any help understanding things or just want some help just lmk.

This account is a safe place. We DO NOT ACCEPT any form of discrimination against gender,sex, race or religion etc. At the end the day we are all created by a being outside of our control. You are all my equals.

Not that I felt like I needed to say this because again, this is literally just a tumblr account but i am pro palestinian 🇵🇸 and ofc a female. So whilst i may not want to disclose politics into my stories, i believe strongly in equality! Everyone is welcome here!

I'm not expecting any responses, as I said previously - I am literally a tiny account on here. But I just know that if I was scrolling online right now, i'd wanna hear someone say this. Just know that its okay not to be okay.

This page has always been a mental distraction for me, just like my bio- it's a maladaptive daydream at its finest. I do this to cope with stressful stuff, and if this helps any of you feel slightly better then please be my guest. This platform is used how you want it, this a safe place and for as much as I can - I will do my best to look out for everyone.

Pls stay safe

V ❣️

[loupy-mongoose]

Another writing that got long, so putting a Read More~

I wish I could've continued this interaction as a comic, but I ran out of energy. Life got busy, my mood fluctuated. So this one's written. X3

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ARC START | CHRONO

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Lavender woke in her bed with a gasp. She sat up, gulping air as the dream vision invaded her waking mind.

It wasn't real... It was just a vision... It wouldn't have hurt you, Lav. It wouldn't have hurt you...

As she calmed down, her attention shifted to something else.

She reached out with her mind.

...Nico?...

Nothing.

Lav's face scrunched up in anger. Dang it...

She flopped back onto her pillow, her arms sprawled out beside her. Here eyes were shut tight. Rrrrrrgh... Sorry, Nico, I didn't mean to wake up!

Something tickled her attention in her mind, but she didn't dwell on it.

Curse the flimsiness of our connection!

This time, she couldn't ignore it.

.a...v..nder?...

Lav froze, listening intently and focusing with all her might.

...Nico?

...u.. s....ll ..ear m....?

Lav smiled and mentally shouted as strongly as she could, careful to not connect with her family's mindscapes. I hear you, Nico! I hear you! Can you hear me?!

Lav? Lav!? I heard you!

Yes! Lav clenched her fists in her spike of joy. YES! Finally! We can talk without the worry of it collapsing at the slightest breath!

I'm... Kinda surprised you still want to talk... I'm sorry about the visions. I got carried away...

No, no, it's fine! It just startled me!

...It seemed like a strong reaction for just a startle...

I'm fine, honest! Lav tried to ignore that he was right. Anyway, that’s not the end of the story, right? You said you didn’t feel guilty then… But you clearly regret what happened.

...I do... His voice was subdued. Yes. I now regret what happened. But... Back then, I was truly the monster they wanted me to be. I was their good little weapon, until I decided they didn't see me as an equal.

After I d... d-destroyed the lab... I roamed Kanto. I challenged people and Pokemon alike... I attacked them... I...

His mental voice broke.

I killed them...

Both Lav and Nico fell silent. Lav could tell she was getting more adept at this connection thing, as she faintly felt that they were still linked.

What changed?

You said Fuji taught you gentleness and kindness, but you still... She shivered, hoping that he couldn't sense her apprehension. What made you change your mind from "monster" to regretful?

...Jovie.

Lav couldn't help smiling at the pure warmth in his mental voice. Your mate?

He spoke with a wistful tone. If Fuji planted the seeds, Jovie watered and nurtured them.

I, uh....

I stumbled into her home town. A little hidden place called Shadegrove. I... I attacked... And she defended.

Looking back... she was amazing.

So brave, and strong. Determined to save the town and people she loved.

And she succeeded.

I couldn't overpower her, so I left. Exhausted. Embarrassed.

And Furious.

First my parent, then this...

Lav felt a jolt.

I figured Mews wanted nothing to do with the Monster they had created.

Woah woah woah, wait! Your parent? Did you know your parent?

...

I saw them leave. Before I left my incubation tube.

Incubation tube? Lav took a mental note of the strange phrase.

I'm sure of it... It's my earliest memory.

A Mew's tail vanishing into the distance... Either my parent, or a Mew who knew me...

It abandoned me.

And after Jovie attacked me, I thought... I thought it was me. Mews hated me.

But I was wrong.

She followed me.

And I would be dead now if she hadn't

She found me after a challenge I'd made went wrong, and healed me up. And she did the unthinkable.

She was kind to me.

She worked to get to know me.

She cared about me.

And I found myself returning those feelings.

She made me laugh.

She made me care.

She made me happy.

And eventually... we fell in love.

That's... pretty much all the important stuff...

Lav sat quiet, contemplating the rest of the story she'd heard. Is that how you got that scar?

...Yeah...

You ever hear about Zapdos?

She felt her heart skip a beat, remembering stories her dad had read to her of the powerful electric-type legendary bird. ...Wow...

Yup.

They both went quiet.

Nico...

Lav's mental voice was soft.

Thank you. Seriously. For being brave enough to share that with me.

Wou... Would you be okay with me telling it to my dad?

Nico was silent. Lav could almost feel the buzz of his mind as he contemplated. Finally, he spoke up.

If you think it'll help. I... I worry it won't, but... You know him better than I do.

Do what you think is best, Lav.

Lav tried to form the question; Why are you afraid of him? But a yawn broke her concentration. She looked at the time.

Shoot. I should go back to sleep, or I'll be hurting tomorrow. Catch ya later?

If you want to!

Yeah! She smiled. Good night, Nico!

Good night, Lav.

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ARC START | CHRONO

[lena-in-her-mind-palace]

Comparing The Avengers to the Justice league but it's actually accurate

We're just gonna do the main ones because otherwise we'd be here forever

I'm also mainly using mcu characterizations because I'm not as familiar with Marvel comics as I am with DC

Iron Man - Batman

This one goes without saying

Tony is literally Batman and Brucie Wayne put together

Billionaire Playboy Philantropist Superhero who?

They both have ridiculous paranoia

They're rich orphans with British butler (or butler adjacent if we're talking about Jarvis)

Incredibly smart and know it

They both run multimillion dollar companies

and work to better the world both in and out of their super hero persona's

Thor - Aquaman

Non human royalty

friendly and funny

Both of them have a strong sense of duty and loyalty towards their people

They just don't get normal society a lot of the time

Also interwoven magic and science

and they both have really strong elementally based powers

plus a very specific weapon that is inherently associated with them

to be honest, I don't actually know much about aquaman but it feels right

Captain America - Wonder Woman

They are literally soldiers

They both fought in a world war

Also Diana's love intrest is literally a blonde soldier named Steve

Both of them have a strong sense of duty and moral obligation

They're also the most fond of proteges and younger heros

I'm sorry but Steve had no business being so nice to Peter during the airport battle

Dude you are literally fighting each other

Idk the military background makes them more similar in my opinion

also the fact that they're super behind on a lot of modern day stuff

Like everyone remembers Diana discovering ice cream don't we?

and grandpa steve my beloved

Hulk - Superman

okay this one was a little hard

at first I was gonna do Guy Gardner cuz green guy with anger issues. But Guy's kind of an asshole and Bruce is a sweetheart

so then I thought the Flash for the science but I don't think Bruce is into puns enough to match with either Barry or Wally

But Clark is perfect

Clark is a dork

But he is genuinely really intelligent

also they literally wear the same glasses

I think Clark and Bruce would get along really well

If you want to talk about the anger issues

Well

We've all scene Batman V. Superman

Tbh not my favorite version of superman

Clark is obviously not quite prone to rage

and it's definitely no where near hulk levels though

But when he's angry it gets destructive real fast

think about most of his fights with doomsday

Constantly worries about his own strength and hurting the people he loves

Which is a struggle both of them are characterized by

Black Widow - Orphan/Black Bat/Batgirl

okay I know cass isn't technically a member of the league

but hear me out

also I'm not actually sure which title is Cass's current one

anyways

both were raised from childhood to be a lethal weapon

and they truly are

they both have a major guilt complex over the lives they've taken

and that's one of the biggest factors for them becoming a hero

they joined the good guys to get out of the assassin lifestyle

Also dancing?

like the widows were trained in ballet since it was the red room's cover

and cass dances as an escape

I think it's poetic

Also they both are the owners of their family's shared braincell

Cass is like Natasha but younger really

Hawkeye - Green Arrow

so I know at first glance this seems obvious

yk skilled archer or whatever

but I wasn't exactly for it at first

I'm not really Green Arrow's biggest fan

But I've recently been reading Mia's run as speedy

and despite the vast, and I mean vast, difference in her back story with Kate

Their mentors are very similar with their proteges

like Oliver is just so soft with mia and it's adorable

not to mention neither wanted a protege at first and then they go and basically adopt them

literally in oliver's case

Also Ollie's into pranking as much as Clint is

And admittedly Oliver is just as strongly attached to his family as Clint is

if we ignore the thing with roy because wtf Oliver

Runner ups:

Thor and Wonder Woman: mythology and their whole fish-out-of-water-ness in modern society

Thor and Captain Marvel: again mythology, lightning powers, and also their childlike nature (literally in Billy's case)

Black Widow and Black Canary: badasses that keep the men on their team in line. need I say more?

Iron Man and Green Arrow: only thing that got me is that Ollie's not nearly smart enough to go toe to toe with Tony

Vision and Martian Manhunter: they can pass through walls and they just don't get humans

Scarlett Witch and Zatanna/ Dr Strange and Constantine: I don't think this requires elaboration

Winter Soldier and Jason Todd: fallen hero presumed dead starts working for the bad guys before switching back to the good guys

Bonus:

Spiderman and Dick!Robin

they're bendy

they love puns

they love swinging in the air

they're smart

they give their mentors high blood pressure

everyone loves them

they have a lot of grief

they have a thing for really smart, badass red heads

Ball of sunshine with ridiculous anger issues

also I think a meeting between Dick and Peter would be a disaster in the best way possible

[arcadiabaytornado]

SPOILERS AHEAD Episode 5 Double Exposure Rapid Fire Thoughts After I Just Finished Two Route's:

A: I'm still so conflicted about Safi. I ended up refusing to help her because A: I do think she went to far multiple times. B: I don't feel like she really learned a lesson here. C: She broke her promises to Max by shapeshifting into Max and Amanda. If she can't even keep a promise like that then she's not someone Max can trust. HOWEVER...I do like her character in the evil type of way. I'm so bummed that we were so close to getting toxic yuri and then the game ripped it away. /hj

B: So. I don't like Amanda. At all. Will not be romancing again. She's just so...I literally don't know she see's in Max?? Every time Max speaks she's gets irritated, and she straight up says that she "dodged a bullet" if Max friendzoned her. I will admit I didn't really think about the moral implications about romancing someone on one timeline after being rejecting in the other, and I do think it's interesting that the game brought it up. I've literally never seen that addressed in a time travel story.

C: I can't believe how much I like Vinh?? He grew on me a lot through the course of the story, and I ended up liking his romance more than Amanda's, which is CRAZY. Him comparing Max to tarot card's in his social media message was cute, and I liked their little "focus on what's in front of you" exchange. (Though I prefer the Vinh/Max friendship route, I think) Overall I ended up really liking Vinh and his messiness, honestly he's one of my new favorites for all his nuances and complexities.

D: My favorite new character introduced in this game is Moses. He's been a great friend to Max since the start, and I really hope we get him again some day.

More Undercut

E: They did so much Arcadia Bay/Chloe stuff in this episode, and I still feel like they didn't do enough??? They just explore any route thoroughly enough for tastes, but I did up preferring the Bae route again so, there's that. TBH I'm not holding out much hope that Max and Chloe will get back together. I would L O V E to be wrong....but IDK.

F: Diamond has powers I guess? I don't really have a lot of thoughts of her character TBH, and that's because I don't have a lot of thoughts on MOST of the characters. The only characters I ended up having any feelings toward were: Max, Gwen, Safi, Vinh, and Moses. The rest of them just faded into background noise for me, and I think a major complaint that I have is that every character feels kind of underdeveloped in a specific way that varies from character to character.

G: The end choice was...fine I guess?? For me it was the worst end choice in the franchise, and I feel like in the sequel it will only lead to a few small dialogue changes.

H: I I'd rate the game overall a 7/10, but I'd only rank this episode a 5/10. When the chapter ended my first thought was "What am I even supposed to say about this? It was underwhelming? It was slow? It made the entire game feel kind of pointless?" I'm not really finding any words it just...was a chapter I guess?? Like...I feel nothing strongly. Easily the best scenes were the ones with Max and Safi, but other than I found no substance anywhere. It was the chapter that just was....and my lingering feeling is disappointment.

If I was going to rank the episodes from how I liked them from most to least, I'd rank them: 2, 1, 3, 4, 5.

If I was going to rank the games from how I liked them from most to least, I'd rank them: LIS 1, LIS 2, Before The Storm, Double Exposure, True Colors. (It's weird because I think the high's of Double Exposure reached a high that True Colors never peaked at for me, but I also think the lows of Double Exposure reached a low that True Colors never dived to for me.)

Well. That sure a game. And I'm probably going to need a few days to be more eloquent than that.

[stevetwisp]

What's your all-time favorite Bob's Burgers episode? Like this is YOUR episode? (You can list multiple if you want!)

ooo yes i will need multiple, i have like lil categories for my favs episodes;

like nostalgic, and just genuinely good, and then episodes i find really silly/have my favourite characters

'The Belchies', 'Bob Day Afternoon', 'Bob Fires the Kids' and, 'Sexy Dance Healing' are all episodes I can't decide which i saw first, as in my first episode of Bob's Burgers overall, they all feel a very special and kind of nostalgic and honestly? besides Sexy Dance Healing, they are all really classic episodes that kind of hold the edginess of season 1, but in a good way, and also just have really good well put together stories- as well as introducing/building on side-characters that will become staples to the series (not including Beverly and Cooper, mostly talking about Mickey and the kids' friend group)

Sexy Dance Healing is just a cool episode in the sense they bring attention to the chalk board and Bob's routine with it and him breaking that routine and how the family reacts to it? it's just a wonderful character/world building episode especially if you have been watching the show for a bit before seeing it

'Manic Pixie Crap Show' and 'Silence of the Louise' go up in my top favs bc 1) i LOVE MILLIE and 2) i love the movie silence of the lambs, but also I love louise's crisis about 'being a girl' in Manic Pixie Crap Show

'Amelia', 'The Amazing Rudy', 'Radio No You Didn't', 'Show Mama From The Grave' are all episodes that sort of break formula to tell a better story, Amelia is just... oof. The Amazing Rudy? to escape the Belchers and have a whole episode just on Rudy- and not just Rudy but to focus on his face the whole episode to be inside his head without any inner monologue or narration- it's powerful stuff. Radio No You Didn't is just straight up a cool episode- and I love the running gag of never really showing Bob's mom? Lily is finally in an episode and.... she's a baby the whole time. It's kind of genius? oh also his grandma fighting nazis is cool too. HAHA and to follow that up- I really didn't think they would actually show Lily's grave in 'Show Mama From The Grave' (ironically), I was expecting them never to find it and I want to believe there's a draft of the episode where they never reach her and it's just about how that's okay because Bob thinks of her all the time. But Linda being the one who found her? Bro I was sobbing, loudly, WILDLY.

'Vampire Disco Death Dance', 'Earsy Rider', 'V for Valentine-detta' are episodes that are silly but I feel very strongly about them- Earsy Rider is also one of the first episodes I ever saw, and I think it's so neat they did an episode so early on that addresses- but doesn't unpack- Louise's bunny ears. Also the introduction of some of my favourite background characters, the One Eyed Snakes and Critter (love his name. love that man.) and his partner Mud Flap. ("Aw my mother's name is Mud Flap!" "...Really?" "No, you are named after the dirty part of a car.")

and c'mon, who doesn't love V for Valentine-detta???? We get sweet sweet adorable family time with Linda and Tina and Louise- NAT?? THE INTRODUCTION OF NAT!!!! best character in the series, and probably the gayest Tina will ever be (next to her and Sage... Next to her and Dillon... next to-)

but my ultimate favourite episode of Bob's Burgers will always be, 'Thanks-Hoarding'. I love Teddy. Yes it hits home, yes I relate to him, YES the episode makes me cry, YES I THINK ABOUT IT ALL THE TIME

YES I DID MAKE A YOUTUBE VIDEO ESSAY ABOUT IT LIKE 5 YEARS AGO!!!

YES I LOVE THAT EPISODE STILL (tears shirt off)

AAAAAAAAAAAAAA

anyway thank you for the question c:

honourable mentions: any episode with Gretchen. 👍