#Your first priority should always be commitment to the bit.

[deerspherestudios]

Asking about Mycheal’s sense of morality and thoughts on kindness sort of got me thinking - what are his thoughts on justice?

Some examples on what I mean (that you do not have to specifically address!): If someone has harmed someone else, does he think that justifies hurting them back in any sense? And if someone in power continually abuses that power, does that justify hurting or killing them to prevent more harm in his opinion? Does it depend on the degree? Where does he draw the line? Or is it completely unacceptable - does he think we should always try to use mercy to solve conflicts? What about in situations where mercy can’t be used? And how does what he’d say verbally on the matter differ from how he’d actually act in a satiation where justice might be needed (eg. he says that he would never hurt anyone in any situation, but in reality there might be situations where he’d bring harm - or he says that he would hurt someone to prevent more damage but couldn’t bring himself to in reality). I’d be interested how his isolated upbringing impacted his thoughts on right and wrong as well - I’d imagine he prioritizes interpersonal relationships over the good of the whole (of any group he’s been rejected by especially), but, if so, by how much?

Again, these are just examples of generally what I’m going for by asking for his take on justice, please don’t feel pressured to answer any of the questions in that wall of a paragraph specifically! I’d love to hear your thoughts on his opinions in the area of morality in general - whatever comes to mind, even if it doesn’t relate to any of my example questions or the points I brought up. Thank you so much for your time and the love you pour into your work, and I hope you have a wonderful day!

Oo now this is a doozy of a question, from an anon no less :-0! I actually love these kinds of questions, but save them in my draft for months until I'm up to answering since I wanna do my best for them haha. Now's the time for this question to shine!

Long!!!!!! (possibly mad?? character opinions about justice and morality???) ramble below:

Regarding justice, I find myself struggling to answer to be honest! While I, the creator, have my own views on it, I'm not sure how someone like Mychael would feel about the concept of justice. This kind of thing warrants a society, of which he is isolated from. You don't really bother to be justified if something you did was wrong unless it's in the eyes of someone else, if that makes sense? Otherwise you'd end up arguing with yourself. And when stuck between committing a crime to survive or moral righteousness, it's obvious which one he would go for.

From your example, he's not really the type to believe in "an eye for an eye" as he's a pretty forgiving person. But of course, an extreme situation would change his mind like any of us!!

Now morality is a pretty nuanced topic, but after digesting the question a bit and gathering my thoughts, for the sake of conversation, I think his sense of morality can be simplified into a few traits:

First, he tries to be kind in all situations.

In the past, he's seen cruelty and kindness, how humans are capable of both, and the effects of those actions. Whether it's towards himself or others, he obviously prefers the latter treatment over the former. No matter what, he'll try to do the good thing (or at least, what he perceives to be the good thing) in most situations. He's aware it's naive to think so, but when you claw for something to live for, he insists "kindness above everything" is the best he could hold on to without losing himself.

Second, at times, he will be self-serving.

Just because he tries to be kind, doesn't mean there aren't moments where he'll be selfish. While his self interest isn't his top priority, in the rare instance he wants or needs something for himself, he'll likely skew odds in his favor. This is kinda clear from the game itself with how he treats MC when they start pulling away from him (another example is how he got his chickens and it's implied he does shoplift groceries/supplies no matter what he wants you to think.)

And finally, mercy is a tricky thing.

Let's say we equate mercy to forgiveness or compassion. Already in the game we see Mychael being callous towards the injured rabbit but also refuses to kill Rosie even though she doesn't really serve a purpose anymore other than being an attachment for him. With that said, you are definitely correct in saying "he prioritizes interpersonal relationships over the good of the whole" since with his background, interpersonal relationships are few and far in between. He might forgive a lover of his for murdering someone in front of his face, but wouldn't do the same for a stranger. He doesn't have the same sense of a judicial system like us humans, so with the above traits combined, he'd brush off the frankly heinous crime easier than most.

I hope that answers the question? Re-reading my answer a bunch I'm not even sure if I gave the points you're asking for but mmMM I spent spoons on this so have it like so 🫴❤️❤️❤️!!

[kaienmaru]

@landofsamurai @braveryhearted joui4

[ardenrosegarden]

Amnesia is a comedy, actually.

[im-still-a-robot]

More dnd posting

[ivhmavie]

✭ jealous, jealous, jealous boy ◦ ༆

characters: park gyeong seok (player 246), hwang in ho (player 001), kang dae ho (player 388) and hwang jun ho (police).

how squid game mens would be with jealous

Hii! This is my first time posting on tumblr, I want to alert you all that english its not my first language, so, if theres some mistake on my writing Im really sorry! But I accept any and all help and productive criticism if I commit any mistakes. 🫶🏻

park gyeong seok (player 246)

➴ as a busy man, gyeong normaly wouldnt have time to think about any younger boy trying to impress you. With his job and his sick daughter, his mind would always be focused on thinking about the next bill to pay or his debts

➴ but, if he ever saw a guy being to friendly or close, I can just imagine him tensing up and doing that sexy jaw clenching thing. He would try to not care to much, he didnt want to make you feel controlled or suffocated by him

➴ He’s a patient man, wouldnt do anything by impulsive or without thinking, he dont want you to be sad or angry with him

➴ he would silently observe you two while paiting in the park, you would think that he didnt even saw, but he would be constantly checking you to make sure that the guy wouldnt be crossing the limits with you

➴ some insecurities would pass through his head, he would think that may you finally started to notice that you deserved someone with better conditions, someone that could take you to dates in amazing restaurants and travels; or maybe that you should be with someone younger than him

➴ whem he finish his job, he would arrive at your side, nothing but confidence in his face and actions, he would put a hand on your waist and smile asking who is your new friend. He knows what to do to let whoever your talking to uncomfortable

➴ would make sure to call the guy “boy” or “kid” and make it sound innocent and oblivious, as if it weren't for evil, in fact, the guy is practically a child

➴ in the moment that the boy finally get embarrassed enough to leave, gyeong would hold you a little bit near and give you a kiss on the cheek, just making sure to let clear that you were together

➴ if you ask him about it latter he would just smile and say that he was just “making sure that you were ok”, never really saying that he got a little bit jealous

hwang in ho (player 001)

➴ girl, let start with the point that letting this man jealous would be a problem

➴ I dont think that he would kill the one hitting on you, it depends on the situation. If it was just someone trying to flirt with you, he would have his own ways to stop it. He’s the type of man who has power enough to humiliate someone, that’s the way he would make sure that whoever was interested on you get out of his way

➴ in this first situation, he would probably use his status as the owner of the games, and rich man, to make the other feel inferior. It would be subtle, as if he didnt realize that his comments where being cruel.

➴ would talk about the expensive gifts and dates that he pays for you, the travels to the most pricey destinationd and the places you like to go shopping. It all with a hand on your thigh, because of course he would make sure to show who you belong to

➴ it all would be enough to make anyone feel bad with themselves to give up

➴ now, theres other potential situation, the one where he may had to get rid of someone. In this scenario, it would be if the person who is interested in you was really persistent.

➴ it would happen especially if the person stalked you or made you insecure about your safety. That’s the point where he would have to consider murder someone, but not of jealousy, his priority would be your safety

➴ he would give orders to some of his guards to take care of it, just wanting to confirm that they got rid of whoever it was. Probably you wouldnt even know about what they did, in a random day you would realize that the guy that was stalking you before just disappeared

➴ but, whem you asked him about it already knowing the answer, because, look who is you men girl, he would give a forced laugh and say that you shouldn't worry about it

kang dae ho (player 388)

➴ this boy would be SOO dramatic, probably he would make a pout with his mouth without even realizing it. He also look a little bit insecure, so i can imagine he being kinda sad

➴ so, you would have to calm him down about it, you would KNOW whem he’s jealous because he cant hide it, his face tells you

➴ he’s divided. He feels bad and insecure whem he’s jealous, but he don’t want you to be upset with him or look to selfish

➴ you would have to be the one to start the conversation about it, he wouldnt say a word. But you would know by the way he looks at you whem you’re talking with someone who makes him jealous

➴ he feels so unable because he’s afraid of getting in trouble with someone for interrupting a conversation and seeming rude or controlling, he thinks the only way to be worthy of you is to be brave like the other mens who worked with him or the ones in the games

➴ it would be a little bit hard to calm him about it, but after a conversation he would feel better

➴ there’s a situation where he would interrupt you. If he notice that you’re uncomfortable and the guy is crossing the limits with you. He would arrive friendly at you two like "So, what are we talking about?” and placing a protective hand on your shoulder

➴ after that he wouldnt deny that he was jealous, but also wouldnt admit it

hwang jun ho

➴ first of all, this men is really confident and trust you a lot, so i don’t think he would be jealous easily. If it ever happend, it would be with someone insistent, that really cross the friendly limits with you

➴ he wouldnt be angry or anxious with someone trying to flirt with you, maybe he even think that it’s funny to watch. He would be watching while doing something or talking with someone, giggling in your direction whem the person who is talking with you says something stupid

➴ whem the guy notice that you’re not interested, he would come up behind you, putting an arm around your shoulders and giving you a kiss on the forehead, asking friendly “who’s your new friend?”

➴ latter, you two would remember that and laugh of that

➴ now, if someone where pressuring you or making you uncomfortable, he would interrupt the conversation, in a passive-aggressive way, leaving no space for the person to continue talking to you

➴ would let a protective hand on your waist and would lead to talk, making sure to somehow add the information that you are already taken and he is a police officer

➴ really affectionate and protective with you, gets worried whenever he see someone possibly crossing the line with you

➴ wouldnt make a scene, he doesnt want to embarrass you. After he would want to know from where you know the guy from earlier, but only because he worry about you

[mangionebabymama]

FRESH CUT — LUIGI MANGIONE

Summary: Luigi debuts a new look.

Word Count: 6.9k

Warnings: NSFW; EXPLICIT; oral sex (f! receiving); soft dom reader; Luigi’s kind of a himbo; featuring that big, beautiful Sicilian nose; reader (+ writer) should be sent away to horny jail

A/N: To the barber and inmate at Huntingdon SCI who forever changed the lives of many the day Luigi walked out with a low taper fade before being extradited to New York… you got the power of God’s touch This, in general, describes how I feel about taper fade Lu

“Maybe you should get a taper fade or something,” you mumbled, half into his shoulder, half into the beginning of a yawn—like it was a joke, like you weren’t seriously invested in what kind of hairstyle he should try next. But you kind of were.

Before now, you had shifted closer to Luigi, your arm draping lazily across the breadth of his chest. Your fingers wandered into his hair, twirling a strand of his brunette curls around your finger without thinking twice. Already tucked in for the night, your legs brushed together beneath the layers of warm bedsheets. 

Propped against the headboard, he was absorbed in whatever book had stolen his attention lately—a bright yellow paperback titled How to Break Up with Your Phone. It seemed to pack a punch of information and major takeaways for him; in fact, ever since the book landed in his hands a few days ago, you’d find him scribbling notes onto a sheet of paper in his one notebook that he always carried, with the book sprawled open next to him. Engrossed in the book, his jaw would flex every time he turned a page, and his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, drawn into whatever intrigued him about the smartphone break-up manual. Under the glow of the bedside lamp, his curls looked soft and unruly, haloed in the light, growing in every possible direction these days.

Luigi was planning to get his hair cut tomorrow.

It would be another routine trip to the barbershop, a quick little trim like the one he got every couple of weeks to keep his curls looking neat and kempt. In truth, getting a regular haircut was never something he saw as a priority or a confidence boost, nor as a chance to express his individuality. Even with basic routine maintenance—being a low-maintenance kind of guy to begin with—he didn’t do much with his hair, ever, despite it always being one of the first things people noticed about him and the way they would compliment those pretty, fine, dainty brown curls of his. He undoubtedly had lovely hair, though Luigi himself hadn’t fully realized it. He hadn’t known much about caring for his curls until you recently taught him the golden rules of curly hair maintenance—including the surprising truth that water isn’t the only key to curl activation.

Now, with some guidance and just a bit more effort, his curls had begun to take on a life of their own. 

These days, they had grown into a natural, unstyled mop that had taken on a shape of its own. They clustered thickly around the crown of his head and temples, making his hair look coarser, denser, and fuller than it actually felt—voluminous, yes, but still soft to the touch. And he was also sporting some stubble, since he hadn’t shaved in a few days. Not quite clean-shaven, not quite bearded—just that in-between scruff along his jawline and chin, with uneven patches on his cheeks and upper lip that gave his face a slightly rugged contrast to the fluffiness of his curls. Even his eyebrows were a bit bushier than before—enough that, if he really committed, a full-on unibrow wasn’t out of the question. And annoyingly, he’d probably still look hot as hell. 

Then again, he always looked hot.

Lowering the book a fraction from his face, Luigi glanced down at you, one brow lifting in amusement.

“Really?” he echoed, a little laugh bubbling up from his chest, rumbling more than ringing in humor.

A smile toyed across your lips. “What?” you asked, playing innocent as you twirled another ringlet of his curls around your finger.

As a means of holding his current page in place, he closed the book around his forefinger, then looked you straight in the eye. “You mean one of those haircuts every white guy influencer on TikTok gets, thinking they’re tough shit?”

You snorted and rolled onto your side to look at him properly, mirroring the way he was looking at you.

“Well, what were you thinking?”

He shrugged, and it was completely sincere. “I dunno. Maybe I’ll just get a trim.”

Not all men—of course not. Luigi would never. But when it came to deciphering the ultimate guide to haircuts and hairstyles, he was just as lost as the rest of them.

You blinked. “But that’s what you always get.”

“...yeah?” he shot back at you, sarcastically defensive. “What else are you suggesting? You know, maybe I should just start fresh and get a buzz cut or something.”

You thought back to a photo he’d once shown you: him and his sisters at some outdoor school event when they were younger. In it, little Luigi was sporting a buzz cut, and it was the kind of throwback you could absolutely pull up and use as ammunition, especially if you ever found yourself going back and forth with him on Twitter. All it would take was one glance at that haircut, and the argument would be over before it even began.

With all due respect—and truly, no harm meant, since even Luigi laughed at the photo—you just couldn’t imagine him with a buzzcut.

In that instant, you sat up a little, appalled not only by what you had just heard, but by the audacity of it coming from his mouth. 

“Oh god, no, Luigi.”

He burst out laughing. “Why not?”

Narrowing your eyes, you gave him a knowing look and quipped, “Well, imagine how your Italian-American mother would feel seeing her darling little boy shave off all those precious curls, especially now that you’ve finally learned how to take better care of them as an adult.”

With a long sigh, your words lingered in his mind, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he considered them. “You make a fine point there. I still remember how upset she was when I cut my own hair too short on the sides during the pandemic. She couldn’t even stand the way the back of my neck looked at graduation.”

You chuckled, reaching back to that very neck of his, your fingers tracing the edge of his hairline and the nape of his neck, gently skimming the soft skin where his hair met his neck.

“And when me and a couple of the guys decided to cut that little slit in our eyebrows for the commencement ceremony?” he added, eyes widening dramatically. “Oh, she was pissed for a week.”

Snickering, you buried your face against his shoulder. “God, I bet.”

Slowly, you ran your hand once more through those precious little curls again, then cupped his jaw, gathering his ever-so-handsome face into your hands. Your thumb stroked over the light stubble peppering his cheeks. The contrast between the scratchy, prickly dark hairs on his face and the smoothness of your skin just made you smile.

“Well,” you murmured, brushing your lips against his, “no matter what you look like, I think you’ll always be the finest piece of man there is.”

He smiled into the kiss, eyes closing in bliss for just a beat.

Without another word, you turned onto your left side, making yourself comfortable and tugging the white comforter up as you settled in for the night, your back resting lightly against his side.

For a moment, Luigi grew quiet, leaving it at that and holding his thoughts in the stillness. Considering his options, he knew better than to get upset or dwell on it; after all, it wasn’t that big of a deal. Getting his knickers in a twist over something like this would be complete nonsense. It was just hair—his hair—and it would grow back eventually, in a matter of days really, since he was quite hairy, as it was. 

Then, from behind you, you barely caught him muttering with a grin, “Taper fade, huh?”

In the darkness, you smiled softly to yourself, before surrendering to sleep.

You thought he’d just get a trim.

In the middle of tidying up the living room, you had folded the blanket that draped across the top of the couch once again and were now fluffing the pillows, maybe reaching for a stray mug on the coffee table, when you heard the front door click open. 

“Hey,” you called out casually, expecting the usual.

The usual, just like it always was when Luigi came home from the barbershop: a quick trim that left his curls looking clean and refreshed, unapologetically showing off his cute face, same as ever. After smacking out the last few lumps in the plush padding, you bent down to grab that empty mug sitting on the coaster—the same one Luigi had sipped out of during breakfast with his chamomile tea—when you heard footsteps approaching from down the hall, getting closer and closer to the living room. 

His tread slowed, then stopped right behind the couch, just out of view. And somehow, without even turning around, you could already sense him standing there. 

With the mug curled around in your grasp, you looked up—

—and stopped short.

The mug slipped from your hand. 

Just moments ago, you’d noticed a small sip of tea still sitting at the bottom when you grabbed it, so now, it had probably left a few drops staining the carpet. But that didn’t matter. You could always clean that up later. What really mattered was the much bigger surprise standing right in front of you.

Turns out, Luigi had taken your suggestion to heart—just maybe not the way you had expected.

Luigi had gotten a low taper fade. And fuck, did he look good. Like, flustered-without-warning, thighs-clenching kind of good. An understatement if ever there was one. 

Being the pure and simple, conventional nerd that he was—certainly not one to think of himself as tough shit like those male influencers on TikTok (though they could never hold a candle to him)—sporting a low taper fade, hell, a fade at all, was probably the last haircut he would have ever chosen. But truthfully, it was the perfect choice to bring out the best in his features.

The sides of his hair were shaved down to a smooth, clean finish—subtle but sharp. It gave his head a more sculpted silhouette and slimmed the back just enough to balance the shape of his profile. That gradual fade melted effortlessly into the longer curls left on top, which now sat more across the crown of his head. No longer a loose, unstyled mop, his curls had been transformed into something far more refined, each coil of hair bouncing with volume and natural texture. From afar, they appeared thicker, more luscious, and denser than they were. Though if you ran your fingers through them, they’d still feel soft to the touch, as they always had: delicate, silky, deceptively light. You were dangerously close to letting out a sound you’d regret—or maybe not. Who knew anymore? Around the edges, his hairline had been lined up with exacting precision, adding a crisp definition that framed his face; whoever cut it must’ve passed geometry with flying colors in school. 

What made your breath catch, though, was the way those curls—shaped just right and no doubt styled with a touch of mousse or curling gel—glistened with moisture and looked juicier and defined than ever. They drew attention to everything else about him. His jawline, which had no business being that chiseled in the first place, looked downright lethal now. The cut highlighted the entire framework of his face. His jaw looked stronger, his cheekbones more defined. His neck seemed thicker, the arch of his brows clearer, and his eyes sharper. And just from looking at his face, your knees were already halfway to buckling. All of it came together and tipped the scale from boyish to authentically manly. He was still effortlessly handsome, of course, but with a smooth, masculine bite that refused to be overlooked. He was framed like a damn masterpiece—one that made you want to do very, very unholy things on the nearest flat surface.

As if the man wasn’t striking enough, this took him to a whole new level.

The cut was undeniably flattering. It didn’t take someone with formal training to recognize how damn good he looked.

In that single second you looked up from the floor and your eyes landed on him, you froze. Your mouth fell slightly open as your gaze flicked from his hair to his lips, then back again, trying to make sense of what you were seeing.

You blinked at him like you’d forgotten how language works.

He caught your stare and cocked his head just barely to the side, a hint of a smile creeping across his face.

“So…” he ventured, scratching the back of his neck, “you like it?”

This time, your mouth opened a fraction more, but nothing came out. Your brain still lagged behind. 

“I… yeah,” you finally managed a breath, heart stuttering. “You look—holy shit.” You barely stopped yourself from saying something truly filthy. “Wait, did you get your eyebrows done too?”

He chuckled, tongue pressing into the inside of his cheek as he ran a hand through his freshly trimmed hair. “Chip—y’know, the barber—asked me if he could take a few close-up shots for his Instagram after he finished. Said he wanted to tag me, if that was cool.”

You raised a brow, amusement curling at the edges. “Of course, he did.”

Luigi rambled on as he wandered around the couch to stand beside you, still not fully getting it, naturally. “I didn’t think much of it, but when he posted the pictures and tagged me, a bunch of random people started following me, like… a lot.”

Laughter slipped out in a breath through your nose. “God, you are so oblivious sometimes, it hurts.”

A playful furrow pulled at his brow. “What? I wasn’t expecting all that.”

“You literally look like a walking thirst trap, and you don’t even know it,” you teased him, nudging his bicep. “I’m surprised it didn’t crash his page.”

It also didn’t help that you started feeling multiple heartbeats in places somewhere far from your chest—most notably, in your clit.

It took everything in you not to tell him to sit the fuck down so you could straddle him right then and there. But if he sat down, you weren’t even sure you’d make it to his lap; you might just drop to your knees for him instead.

Something was indeed purring—and no, you and Luigi didn’t own a cat. He was allergic. But he wasn’t allergic to this particular breed.

Just then, he grinned, and a faint pink rose in his cheeks, though you couldn’t tell if it was from your compliment or his chronic case of inattentional blindness to the attention his clear-as-day attractiveness deserved. No matter the cause, it paled in comparison to how flustered he made you feel just by standing there, looking that fine with his new taper fade on full display. “Yeah, well… there were some guys waiting in the shop, and a few kept glancing my way after I got out of the chair—like they couldn’t stop staring. One dude even asked me what cut I got.”

Even a couple of supposedly straight guys—confident they were safely parked on the “no-interest” side of the sexuality spectrum and firmly convinced they were exclusively heterosexual—weren’t immune to sneaking glances at Luigi. Finding a young, fine, and handsome man like him attractive was enough to stir parts of their fancy they didn’t even know were eligible for being fancied. And hell, you couldn’t blame them for that.

Tilting your head, you smirked at him, incredulous. “You really don’t get it, do you?”

“Get what?”

“How ridiculously hot you are.”

Luigi just shook his head at that, a small chortle escaping his lips. “Oh baby, stop that,” he deflected, brushing it off with a half a smile, his eyes flickering away, but the blush in his cheeks betrayed him.

You just kept going, ignoring what he wanted. This time, you looked him dead in the eye, just to drink in every inch of him. Your mind took off before you could stop it. It struck like a pulse between your thighs, wickedly clear, and the nasty thought itself had torn out of your head like a bat out of hell and sunk its teeth into your conscience. In the most vivid corners of your imagination—where every forbidden thought painted itself in high definition—the only image you could conjure was the breathtaking sight of his face buried between your legs, like he belonged there, like nothing else in the world made more sense. You wanted to smother him with your thighs, to keep him there until his mind went hazy and his breath stuttered against you. You wanted him to wake up the next morning with the taste of your pussy still clinging to his tongue—embedded in his memory, imprinted on his tastebuds, impossible to forget. It also didn’t make sense how he had such an absurdly rideable face, either. Your breath hitched. Right now, his face looked like the perfect seat to settle yourself on. That jaw could absolutely handle your full body weight—of that, you were sure. And as far as you were concerned, sitting on his face felt like the one necessary step to guarantee that tomorrow would even come. The button-like tip of his nose looked more pronounced than ever, and you couldn’t help but imagine how good it would feel pressed against your clit—like your own personal clit massager, putting every vibrator to shame with the way it would hit just right.

You needed his mouth on you. Desperately. Like right now.

His brow lifted as he stepped closer, drawn in by the heat simmering behind your stare. One hand drifted to the back of the couch, fingers brushing the fabric idly, though his attention never left you. Now that he was close, you could feel the heat radiating from his skin, your bodies separated by nothing more than a breath of space. His scent curled through your senses—still faintly sweet from the chamomile, but now layered with something woody, spicy, and musky, fresh from the barbershop. When he exhaled, his breath ghosted over your face, soft and warm, impossibly near. 

It was that close.

“You look like you’re thinking about something,” Luigi prodded, voice low enough to make your skin tingle. “Want to tell me what it is?”

“I want to sit on your face.”

Luigi blinked. 

It took him a full second to process what he’d just heard, what you had just confessed to. His mouth parted like he meant to reply, but all that came out was a startled breath. A flush climbed from his neck, blooming all the way to the tips of his ears.

“You’re…” he started, then let out a nervous half-laugh, eyes flicking away for the briefest moment before snapping back to yours, wide and glassy with disbelief. “You’re not joking, are you?”

Well, whose face else would you want to sit on?

But he already knew the answer. You just stared at him, daring him to question it again. It was written all over your face, in the way you were looking at him, like that thought hadn’t just crossed your mind. It had settled in, taken root, and wasn’t going anywhere.

He swallowed hard, his voice dropping to a deeper, almost husky register when he spoke again. 

“Because if you’re not…” His hand tightened on the back of the couch.�� “…fuck.”

Luigi took another swallow, visibly working through the flood of sexually explicit images you’d just planted in his brain. The blush hadn’t faded; in fact, it had now spread across his entire face, blossoming red and hot on his cheeks and trailing down his neck. His pupils were blown, wide and dark, and his mouth parted, on the verge of words, but he stayed silent, eyes locked on yours.

Then he laughed softly, his breath coming in low, breathless tones.

“You’ve really just been walking around with thoughts like that in your head?” he asked, his rasping tone low, like the idea alone had short-circuited something vital inside him. “That’s not fair.”

“Well, it’s not fair how rideable your face looks right now.”

He moved a little closer, closer than he probably even meant to, until his thigh brushed yours. One hand still rested on the back of the couch, but the other hovered near your hip, not quite touching, like he was waiting for the next step. Permission. A sign. A spark.

“You know,” he murmured, eyes dragging slowly down your face, pausing on your mouth, “I wouldn’t complain if you followed through.”

That earned him a look. The kind that made his breath catch and his pulse skip.

“Not even a little bit,” he added, lips quirking, though it came out softer, needier.

Without breaking eye contact, you didn’t say a word; they had no place in a moment like this. You just reached for the hem of his shirt, your fingertips grazing the cottony fabric, near enough to feel the heat of his skin. His breath faltered, and in that silence, you heard everything—more than words could ever say.

“I mean,” he went on, voice quieter now, a little unsteady, “if you wanted to use me like that—if you wanted to ride my face until I can’t think straight, ‘til I can’t fucking breathe—I’d let you.”

Fuck.

Your hand slid higher, pressing against his chest at last, feeling his heartbeat jackhammering under your palm. Burning and flushed, already hard with blood coursing through his veins, he strained against his jeans. You hadn’t even touched him properly yet, and with how things were unfolding, you were likely to be pleasured first—but he could be brought to climax right now, without any sex at all.

Even then, he met your gaze without flinching, knowing that beneath your submission burned an unyielding dominance, with absolute power over him, like a dog loyal to its master and quick to heel, and over the moment itself. If you told him to drop to his knees, on all fours, he’d do it instantly, no questions asked.

“You’re really okay with me just…” your voice came out huskier than intended, “using you like that?”

He tilted his head, smiling even as heat smoldered behind his eyes. “Babe. I want you to.”

You didn’t even register who moved first. 

It might’ve been you who went in headfirst, or maybe it was him. Your bodies were already leaning in, defying their orbits, like gravity had stepped aside, the pull between you stronger than the Earth’s force, rewriting the rules that held everything in place. Suddenly, his hand was at your waist, and you were grabbing large-handed fistfuls of his shirt, and then—

A breathless grunt left his lips the moment his back sank into the couch cushion.

Right on cue, you followed him down onto the couch without hesitation, knees bracketing his thighs, straddling his lap as if your body already knew exactly where it belonged. His lap practically had your name on it, and you weren’t about to pretend otherwise. Never would you resist sitting in his lap, especially when he was already half-hard and looking at you like that, knowing that you wanted him to ruin you completely. 

And when your hand slid to the back of his head, pulling his face to yours, your lips crashed together in a kiss that felt less like you’d been apart for an hour, and more like you’d spent months, maybe even years, without seeing each other. Your mouths went at each other greedily, lips smacking, tongues slipping into mouths, teeth catching on a bottom lip. He tasted minty and sweet in your mouth, with the salt of his skin on your tongue and a zesty trace of aftershave still clinging around his lips. Your fingers raked through his freshly styled hair, tugging lightly at the wispy curls as they kissed your skin and skimmed across his scalp, sending goosebumps rising along the back of his neck.

At first, his hands slid up the backs of your thighs with mounting intent, squeezing your luscious flesh, grounding himself in the feel of you. For an instant, it was just like that: the heat of your lips colliding together, the flex of his hands on your skin and his muscular forearms encircling your waist, your hips slowly grinding down against the thick strain of him beneath the denim of his jeans, both of you losing your breath as available oxygen in the living depleted by the very second, sharing the same intoxicating breaths that were scientifically predicted to leave you empty-headed if you dared to pull away. If sitting on his face wasn’t on your agenda for this very moment, then maybe the backup plan would be dry-humping each other on the couch until one of you couldn’t take it anymore and had to slip a hand into someone’s pants to feel something more.

Mumbled between kisses, his voice came thick with want against your lips: “Let’s get these off of you, huh?”

His long fingers fumbled with the waistband of your sweatpants, thumbs slipping underneath to touch your bare skin. When they found your slit, already warm and wet, the contact sent a jolt of heat straight through your cunt. Your hips twitched, your body clenching around nothing, aching for more. This was actually happening.

Moving together as one, you helped him work your pants off, lifting your hips just enough for him to tug them down—and with them, your soaked underwear too—stripping you bare from the waist down in one clean pull. He tossed them behind the couch without a second glance.

If you’d known you were going to be sitting on Luigi’s face right after he got back from the barbershop, you might’ve skipped tidying up the living room and taken some time to tidy yourself down there, considering you hadn’t shaved in a couple of days. It wasn’t like it was some unexplored wilderness, and this definitely wasn’t the first time Luigi had seen you naked like this, but a little trimming wouldn’t have hurt either.

“Sorry,” you said, almost sheepishly. “I-I really haven’t shaved.”

Luigi scoffed, a crooked smile tugging at his lips as he looked up at you. “And? It’s just hair. I’m grown. You don’t think I’ve ever licked a lollipop even after accidentally dropping it on the carpet?”

Oh. You couldn’t wait to be licked and devoured like a lollipop in that case. 

You let out a breathy laugh, somewhere between amused and turned on—because of course, your man didn’t give a damn about a little bush. You should’ve known better. This time, you kissed him again, harder. 

Right away, he pulled back just a bit, gasping for air. His pupils were huge, his voice ragged, and his lips swollen.

“Wait, hold on,” he muttered, shifting beneath you, half-dazed but moving with purpose. “If we’re doing this, I need to—just—”

He eased himself down until he was stretched out on the couch comfortably, one arm folded behind his head, the other drifting to your hip as he gazed up at you from down below. In hindsight, fluffing the pillows had been a smart move.

“There,” Luigi breathed, his gaze molten as it roamed your body from this new angle, admiring the sight of you straddling him, your bare lips pressing against the bulge in his jeans. “Now I’m ready. C’mere.” He wiggled his finger, beckoning you closer.

Perched above him now, you felt the power hit all at once. It was hard not to lose it. To put it mildly, it was a little overwhelming to be in this position: straddling Luigi, surveying his face below, now waiting to crown your pussy its throne. He looked up at you, patient, ready to be ridden into oblivion, or at least until the cows came home. You’ll admit, you wondered if you’d let yourself get carried away—driven by a sudden rush of feelings of arousal and way too many horny thoughts on the brain, acting on impulse before you had the chance to fully think it through. 

Sure, the couch wasn’t the most practical place for this. The mattress on your bed would’ve made way more sense, but you weren’t about to kill the mood just to optimize situational logistics. Not now. Not when you were on top of him and he was beneath you—and fuck, he looked even hotter like that, with that fresh taper fade. Submissive and breedable, even.

You leaned in, bracing your hands on the cushions beside his head, thighs tensing just a tad where they hugged his slim waist.

“You sure?” you pressed, a teasing lilt curling at the edges.

Last time you checked, there wasn’t any intrinsic warranty guaranteeing Luigi’s safety if his girl ever decided to sit on his face and maybe smother the life out of him. But hey, at least you checked with him beforehand. Consent is sexy, anyway.

He licked his lips, chest rising with each breath. “Get up here. Now.”

And so you did, inching forward slowly and deliberately, your knees sinking into the cushions as you climbed toward his mouth like it was calling to you.

His hands met you halfway, sliding up the backs of your thighs before curving around the plush swell of your ass. Luigi gripped you possessively, like extra warm silly putty in his hands, yours to play with and no one else’s during playtime, as he guided you closer towards him. And at the touch of his rough skin, you swore you felt your own arousal run down your thigh.

As your knees straddled either side of his head, a groan rumbled low in his throat. His fistful of your cheeks tightened, pulling you the rest of the way forward until your soaked heat hovered just above his face, the tip of his nose grazing your swollen clit. If he wanted, he could’ve already leaned in and given you a lick or two, for a quick taste. Just with one flick of his tongue. Barely holding yourself together, your thighs trembled with anticipation and your breath caught deep in your chest. If you listened closely, you could hear the source of your heartbeat pulsing low and wild, right there in your clit.

Then, he paused.

He didn’t dive in right away like you thought he would.

Instead, he merely… observed.

Blinking up at you with fluttery lashes, he looked spellbound by what was above him, like he was staring at the eighth wonder of the world—lips parted, eyes blown wide with wonder, completely awestruck. His stare roamed over your pussy, drinking in every glistening curve, every drop of wet heat slicking your folds. Luigi could hardly believe it was real, that this was happening right in front of him. He was doing his best to commit it to memory, to brand into his brain that this was his fate: being buried in your dripping mess.

He exhaled slowly, like just the sight of you had knocked the wind clean out of his lungs.

“Fuck me,” Luigi breathed, the words tumbling out like he didn’t even mean to say them aloud.

The heat of his breath against your folds made you twitch. lt felt like he was whispering sweet nothings to that wet little mouth down there instead of to you—igniting every last nerve ending until your hips dipped closer to his mouth, instinctively chasing more.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he growled, his eyes not leaving you for a second. “God, you’re soaked.”

How he looked up at your sex, like he was on the brink of a religious awakening, seeing salvation itself and surrendering to absolute devotion, almost made you come right then and there.

And then, at last, he leaned in.

Starting slow, his tongue dragged up your slit in one languid, purposeful stroke from bottom to top, collecting every bit of you like a man famished, savoring every last drop like it was all he’d been given to survive off of. His full pink lips pressed against your soaked folds, and you clenched reflexively against his mouth, trying to hold yourself together as the stimulation buzzed deep in your core. A rough moan tore from his chest as he buried his face deeper, tugging you down on his tastebuds like he'd spent his whole life craving the taste of you. The whole time, his mouth stayed open, hot and damp, his tongue working with precision and intention—wide at first, tracing the shape of your outer lips before narrowing, going deeper, searching along after your inner lips.

He wasn’t just licking; he was consuming you, wholly and utterly.

Your hands flew to the back of the couch for balance, your head tipping back with a sharp gasp as his tongue lapped hungrily at your clit. It slid down to your entrance before gliding back up again, slow, steady, and maddeningly good that it almost fucking hurt. 

And God, the feel of his fresh haircut—the sharp edges of his fade brushing against your inner thighs, his clean-shaven skin smooth and soft, finer than the most expensive silk. Pure satin rubbed between your thighs, gliding over your sensitive skin with every shift of your hips, sending little electric shivers dancing up your spine. It was addicting.

“Oh, oh my,” you gasped.

And down beneath you, Luigi groaned into your dripping heat like it was the sweetest thing he’d ever had on his tongue. 

The tip of his nose nestled perfectly into the cleft just above your clit. You gasped, loving how you could ride it, dragging it up and down your pussy on purpose. 

“Oh my god, yes,” you whimpered, thighs jittering as you struggled to steady yourself, trying not to drop your full body weight on him. One hand clung to the back of the couch for dear life that your knuckles bleached with the strain. “Right there, baby, right fucking—”

With your clit pressed to his face, he made no effort to hide how much he was enjoying himself. Spilling out of his lips, low, throaty moans vibrated through you, sinking so deep into your center it felt like they reached your soul. The sound of his deep humming traveled up your spine and dropped straight into your belly, his mouth stepping in as your own little vibrator.

From now on, you were definitely looking forward to seeing him come home from the barbershop with a taper fade more often, just to see where it might lead.

As a way of showing your appreciation, and of letting him know how much you loved being lapped up like a melting ice cream cone on a hot summer’s day, you gave yourself full permission to start grinding your pussy against his outstretched tongue. In return, his tongue didn’t miss a beat, letting your lips and clit go wherever they pleased—following their path and allowing you to set the pace as you rode his mouth, rocking your hips back and forth. You were face-fucking him, and you made it look easy. 

“You like that?” you panted, glancing down to see his flushed face, already wrecked between your thighs. “You like me fucking you like this?”

With his mouth full of pussy, he couldn’t answer with words at the moment. So instead, his fingers dug harder into your ass, kneading each cheek with a palm, and that said plenty.

“Mmmf,” was all he could manage.

In translation, he loved it; it was fucking hot. The view from down under was insane, even if it was getting a little hard to breathe. Luigi’s personal philosophy was clear: if he was born between a woman’s legs, then it only made sense for him to go out between them, too. Full circle. 

“You sound so fucking hot when you moan, baby,” you praised, rolling your hips with more intent.

 Another followed, louder this time.

Then, he started doing something even hotter than the sounds of his own moans: his tongue slid lower, nuzzling into your entrance to taste you from the inside out, his mouth vacuum-sealed to your core. Sloppy and wet, he sucked your clit into his mouth, toying with it using the tip of his tongue, darting down to nibble and flick, then flattening it again and again in wide, messy laps. It was formulaic. He was playing with your clit like a piece of hard candy, letting you melt in his mouth.

Luigi was tongue-fucking you now.

Greedy. There was no other word for it. And fuck, he was good.

“Oh… oh yes, yes,” you cried.

And he fucking knew it—especially when his eyes glanced up met yours, that cocky little glint saying he was grinning behind the mess of you on his face.

Maybe it was the way you had been grinding your sex against your boyfriend’s face, or the heat coiling low in your belly, or the pressure that was slowly building. Whatever the cause, the living room was suddenly growing hotter by the second. You were sweating, too, with moisture gathering at the back of your neck, trailing down the curve of your spine. Your t-shirt clung to your skin, sweltering and almost suffocating you. 

All on your own, you reached for the hem of your shirt and tugged it up over your head, baring your breasts with no bra. Hot to the touch, your nipples pebbled instantly the moment the cool air of the room kissed them. And when Luigi opened his eyes after a moment, only to be greeted by the sight of your pretty tits bouncing as you rode his mouth, he nearly made a sticky mess in his pants. 

His hands flew up your upper body again, fingers skimming the curve of your waist before cupping your breasts, squeezing them as if he missed them more than air. Thumbs circled your pert nipples, drawing them into tight little peaks. 

You began to shake, just slightly at first, then more and more with every slow gyration of your hips. Your thighs clamped around his head as the pleasure climbed higher and higher, threatening to crash into something all-consuming, leaving the two of you with nowhere to go but here. Once more, you ground down, your clit flush against his lips and tongue, which didn’t slow for a second. He was drowning in you. As you pressed harder, your slick coated his mouth, dripping down his chin and probably running along a good bit of his jaw. 

“You’re making such a mess,” you murmured breathlessly, shaking your head. “Fuck, look at you…”

His tongue worked you over tirelessly—lapping, flicking, stroking, and sucking—and god, he was loud about it, moaning every time you rolled your hips just right, making your whole body shiver. He moaned right against your clit, sending sizzles across your nerves like fireworks exploding in the sky, as you practically humped his face, the friction unbearably delicious. You rode him harder, faster now, desperate to outpace the tight coil writhing low in your belly, threatening to snap.

There was no stopping it now. Your thighs shook, your lungs burned, and you were running out of breath fast. It was all hitting fast. You were going to come, and hard.

“Oh my god, Luigi, fuck, I’m gonna—”

Smack.

A sharp slap of his palm met your asscheek, cracking through the room like a whip. You gasped as the sting bloomed hot across your skin. 

Yeah, that one was leaving a mark for sure.

“I know,” he bit out, pulling back for a breath. “Come on my face.”

At last, the tight coil snapped loose and broke free, your body shuddering hard as the muscles in your hips jerked involuntarily against Luigi’s face. Your final breaths came ragged and sharp, and the cries you let out would’ve convinced the neighbors that a pornographic film was being made across the hall. For support, your hands gripped the couch cushions because, really, you could barely feel your own legs. Once you were on top of the world, but after you came, you did everything you could to try and regain your senses.

And of course, Luigi didn’t let up for a second. He coaxed every last drop of you, drinking all of your liquid sex like it was made just for him, like he’d go to hell and come back with a smile on his face as a souvenir if it meant going down between your thighs. His mouth stayed latched to you, tongue working through your aftershocks as he moaned against your spent pussy, drawing out every seismic wave of your orgasm until your thighs trembled around his head.

You finally, finally shifted off him—more of a collapse than a move—your body slick with sweat, chest heaving, arms with difficulty supporting your weight.

And when you looked down at him to get a better view of him—

Luigi looked absolutely ruined, just done for. His pouty lips, shiny and swollen, gleamed with wetness. His chin and reddened cheeks glistened, soaked in your arousal, the undeniable evidence of what he’d just done to you His eyes fluttered half-closed, drunk on your taste, his breath coming fast and ragged, like he’d run a fucking marathon last minute with zero physical conditioning. Nonetheless, thanks to him, you had the best seat in the house. You’d ridden him like a machine made just for your pleasure; you straight-up pussyboarded him—and God, he wore it well.

He thrived.

With one hand, he slid it up lazily to rest on your thigh, giving it a firm squeeze. He blinked slowly a couple of times, and you could tell from the daze in his eyes that he was tired, but completely satisfied.

“Well,” he sighed, with a playful laugh. “I guess the barber earned his tip.”

Tag List: @daydreamingwithluigi @mailovesreading @wannabenugget @paolavallado @mangobabygirl @briarloves @straw8berry @fligniuz @soulsmangione @mangionesdoll @alleviatcd @dafoi @luigis-wetdream @palmersluvr @luiluvr @luigisbambinaaa

[oligbia]

kuroo x f!reader headcanons?:3

i don't think about him often, but I will never buy into the fuck boy/player Kuroo narrative. This man is forever a dork with no bitches to me. I've never met a Kuroo stan I didn't like tho

Tetsurō Kuroo Headcanons

Tags: Kuroo X GN!reader, timeskip and highschool

⠀˳ ˳ . ⋅ ॱ ˙ ॱ ⋅ . I take requests! Visit my profile to submit!˳ ˳ . ⋅ ॱ ˙ ॱ ⋅ .

Before you started dating

I think that Kuroo is the type that once he finds someone, he'll be there for a while. He knows he is not the top pick of his peers, so when he finds someone who likes him back and he likes them, he's committed to you

So when he realized he liked you, and you gave him even the slightest reason to think you'd like him back, he is going to keep a close orbit to you

I imagine he'll try and find reasons to see you outside of volleyball or school but in casual ways to not take things too fast. So I think he'd do a casual invite to a 7/11 run between study sessions or at lunch, asking you to study, etc.

He probably would ask Kenma what he thinks of you, but probably wouldn't take anyone else's opinoin too seriously.

How he asks you out

I almost can't believe that he'd ask you out first. I think at minimum you have to confess first.

But once you confessed to him, probably after a volleyball game you were at, he wastes no time with a relationship. He's asking you out on a serious date that same day

He's also asking you to be his girlfiend that same date. The title is really important to him in my head.

Generally, I just think he is kinda nervous and insecure about the whole dating thing since he isn't really expirenced, so having firm titles and relationship lables is just really important to him.

What it's like dating Kurro

Devoted. This man is so fucking devoted to you it's not even funny. He's buying snacks and drinks in pairs now, he is considering how you fit in every step of his future, he is in it for the long haul. His teammates tease him, but your're on his mind all the time

A picture of you isn't his lockscreen, but a text you sent him before a game wishing him luck is.

Not a day is going by where he doesn't say "I love you" "Have I mentioned you are beautiful?" "You should know I live to worship the ground you walk on," "I am but a man willing to give you it all" or similar statments multiple times a day

His entire playbook for being your boyfriend is from early 90s and 2000s romance movies because he simply is so inexpreinced. But trust, he is a fast learner!

He has a calander on his phone because it's important to him he balances his time with volleyball, schoolwork, friends and now you. He always carves out time in his busy week to give you his full attention ontop of the study dates and snack runs during lunch. He wants time every week where you can enjoy eachother's presence without having to do something else like homework.

I think his love language is quality time, but he likes reciving affection. Back to my whole thing of I think he get's insecure a bit about dating- I think that small affections like holding your hand or having you so casually kiss his cheek in public helps ground him

He is such a goddamn nerd that the best gifts you've ever given him are ones related to his interests.

He likes to call you before bed to ensure you sleep well, and normally he lures you to sleep by talking about something of his interests.

Your comfort, wellbeing and happiness are a high priority for him. When you're sick, he's there in minutes with soup and medicine, timers set on his phone to make sure you take it. You told him once you get lonely at night so he got you a stuffed animal. You mentioned once that you're happy when the stars are clear, he's putting glow in the dark star stickers on your ceiling next time he comes over. this man is devouted.

You don't argue often because Kuroo is always so willing to put you, your wants, and your needs first. but, when arguments do come up, he refuses to go to bed angry and insists on only talking about it in person. King of using "I feel" statments. He's biking to you in the middle of the night if you don't live together yet. He takes these very seriously because he can't risk loosing you!!

When he starts in his career in promotions, i imagine he has to travel a lot and he always brings you along. The other men he works give him shit, because to them work trips are a chance to leave their wives for a bit, but he simply cannot stand to be parted from you like that.

I also think he proposes you really quickly after highschool because he simply needs to be your husband? Like, boyfriend wasn't enough he needed a ring on it ASAP, but he is happy to give it time for a wedding until after uni graduation.

Tag List: @pomigranit

Want to be on my tag list? comment or send a request

A/N: I fear fanon kuroo and canon kuroo are so different and i got so caught up in 2020 fanon that i lowkey forget how kuroo actually is. so i worry none of these are in character. but i'll die on my own sword to defend nerdy looser boyfriend kuroo

Leave me a financial tip? (No pressure!)

I take requests! Visit my profile to submit!

[jubilee40]

Can you please do relationship HCs for the jjk men? Ups and downs of being their partner lol

The Pros & Cons of Dating JJK Men ~ Gojo, Nanami, Geto, Toji, Sukuna, and Choso

📿📿📿📿📿📿📿📿📿📿📿📿📿📿

Characters: Satoru Gojo, Kento Nanami, Suguru Geto, Toji Fushiguro, Ryomen Sukuna, and Choso

Warnings: Small Angst(?)

📿📿📿📿📿📿📿📿📿📿📿📿📿📿📿📿

Satoru Gojo

Pros:

Satoru’s love language is touch, whether it's holding hands, grabbing your butt, or a kiss, Saturo can't help but have the need to touch and hold you when you are near.

Will always hype you up with anything you are doing, whether you're going out for a girl’s night or have an important work presentation, Saturo is here for you.

Satoru is committed to your relationship once the two of you are official, you are his number 1 priority besides his students.

Sexy time with your Satoru always leaves you overstimulated and exhausted. Becomes completely pussy-drunk as soon as he sees your glistening pussy.

Cons:

I personally don't see a lot of cons with being Satoru except that he can be an attention whore & has a flirty personality in general.

He may see himself as a loyal person who is 1000% dedicated to his S/O but you don't sometimes which feeds into your insecurities and causes unnecessary distance between the two of you.

Kento Nanami

Pros:

Kento is a true gentleman when it comes to his romantic partner. He's serious about respecting your boundaries and not doing anything intimate you aren't comfortable with.

He doesn't think of himself as a romantic but his actions say otherwise. Private dinners at high-class restaurants or a quiet picnic in the park, Kento will make sure everything is perfect.

Kento isn’t with you just for you to stay his girlfriend, he sees you as his future wife to whom he plans to propose to after 2 years of being together.

In bed, Kento Nanami is surprisingly (not) very expressive in the bedroom. He isn't afraid to slap or degrade you after he has your consent naturally.

Cons:

Kento has a set timeline of what he plans his romantic life to be life, which leaves you feeling a bit of pressure to follow it and weirded out that he has this planned out.

He can be too focused on working to take care of his future with you that he ends up leaving you feeling neglected as times.

Suguru Geto

Pros:

Suguru spoils you with praise and affirmations of his love. Enjoys seeing your cheeks redden with each confession of his love he gives you.

He’s protective, not possessive with you. Suguru understands that you need freedom but that doesn't stop him from wrapping his arms around you after seeing a pathetic male ogle you.

Suguru is completely secure with your relationship and knows you are too.

Sex with him is either gentle and poetic or downright nasty and sweaty.

Cons:

A major relationship con I can see with Suguru Geto is his arrogance. He would think he knows more than you do and believes you should just shut up and listen.

His sarcasm can also be something that you struggle with. Even though he doesn't mean to hurt your feelings you can't help but feel upset at his tone and response.

Toji Fushiguro

Pros:

Your relationship with Toji started off as friends-with-benefits that turned into the two of you dating without ever making it official.

Toji loves to grab your ass or tit randomly, leaving a blushing mess and telling him to stop.

He isn't great at communicating how he cares about you so he ends up buying you food and clothes (mostly lingerie) thinking you'll understand his intentions.

Since you and Toji were fwb first he knows what parts of your body to pay attention to have you creaming around his cock. Was a selfish lover at first but now loves seeing the tears run down your face from continuous overstimulation.

Cons:

Let's be real there are more cons to being in a relationship with Toji Fushigoro than pros, but I still love him.

He's horrible with money and will spend all his money on a boat race if he has a “lucky feeling”.

Toji may be committed and love you that doesn't stop him from knowingly flirting with other women, not to the point of cheating but just enough to boost his ego.

Ryomen Sukuna

Pros:

A pro to dating Ryomen is that if he's committed to you, he's COMMITTED to you. Wanna break up/divorce? Too bad.

Ryomen is extremely protective and possessive, not controlling but will have everyone know you're his girl.

Not really into PDA, besides having an arm around you or having his hand resting on your inner thigh. But when the two are you are home Ryomen is leaving hickeys and bite marks all over you.

Ryomen Sukuna is merciless in bed. You have 3 safe words letting him know if it's okay to keep going or if you need a break.

Cons:

Arrogance. At first, you didn't mind his arrogant attitude but now it pisses you off.

Ryomen loves teasing and “bullying” you, what you see is him being an ass, he sees it as flirting.

He sees you as his woman and his property who should bend to his will.

Choso

Pros:

Being Choso’s S/O has you feeling adored and appreciated. He truly falls hard for you.

Is a cuddle monster when the two of you are home. Your embrace is a true comfort for him.

100% loyal to you, Choso barely socializes with anyone besides you and his little brother.

In my opinion, I see Choso as a sub or switch. He prefers to be pegged and taken care of since he always looked after his younger brothers.

Cons:

You are not at the top of his list, his last living younger brother is his number one concern.

Since he isn't a big extrovert, Choso is fine with staying home which can be tiring after the fifth date in a row is a at home movie night.

~Taglist~

@samanthathesonicfan @pradaandlucifer @gojo-enthusiast @breely1284 @fiona782 @mrsgangorca @myfireangel09 @missroro @ohgosh0777 @Miss-Uzumaki @straymoon96 @melody13522 @itzgabz22 @jaselynorwhatever @savantsoulfinders @qtahmark @roseqzpd @innerghiblisoul @lovingsecret @0lissa0 @ike-bana @nycvalntyne @im-the-music-whore @kristaline2dmensimp @moonlittle03 @kurookinnie @renster05 @ifu-sayso

[kaienmaru]

“why are you running? why are you running??”

Gin, trying to run away from Sakamoto.

[temis-de-leon]

Dateables as Single Fathers

Characters: Diavolo, Barbatos, Solomon and Simeon, gn!kid, Luke and gn!MC

Part 1

Main Masterlist

CW: nothing, I think? Correct me if you feel something should be warned, but I think we're good to go. Just like in the other one, these HCs explain the characters' relationships with their kids and a romantic interest in MC at the end.

.

Diavolo

This one has to be the most difficult situation out of all, considering his political position.

He either had a child outside of marriage, who I think would’ve been considered a bastard, or he had the next heir with his wife, who would’ve eventually become the queen of the Devildom beside him.

No matter the option, each one would have had significant consequences.

Fortunately for his country, he’s too respectful and responsible to fool around and risk the chance of leaving his offspring behind, so political marriage it is.

I already used the ‘mother died in childbirth’ reason for Lucifer’s HCs, but I can’t see any other explanation for Diavolo being a single father. Both of them would be loyal and committed to their partners and Diavolo has the additional duty of keeping a kingdom going.

Now, we could do some AUs that could explain the future queen’s absence, but that isn’t what this post is about, so let’s leave it at that.

In the end, Diavolo is left with a child that is deeply loved and well taken care of.

I think Beautiful Boy by John Lennon would describe their relationship perfectly.

Loving his kid is not his only priority; raising him is also as important. He’s a caring parent, very attentive, protective and stern when necessary.

Diavolo is too aware of their duties as royals and future monarchs but tries not to act on them. Since he is already preparing himself to become king, there’s no need for his kid to lose their freedom and their childhood.

However, as occupied as he is, he tries to put his work on hold each time the child calls for his attention. They drew themselves with him and Barbatos? Okay, let him set these documents aside so he can admire the drawing properly. They saw a cool bug outside? Say no more, he needs a break anyway. They had a nightmare? Maybe they should have a sleepover!

The kid just needs to be careful not to do many of those things in front of Barbatos. Otherwise, the butler would chastise both.

He’s highly proud of them when they dive into a friendship with you; seeing their eagerness and comfortability around your presence as a sign for keeping the student exchange program going.

Still, he finds the need to have a somewhat serious conversation with them about you, your purpose in the Devildom and your status as a human; the imbalance in power and biology that makes you both so different.

As time passes and his own friendship with you deepens, so do his feelings. He isn’t obvious about it, or at least he tries, but his kid inherited his observation skills and soon innocent suggestive comments are trailing behind him everywhere he goes.

The situation amuses him and makes his heart flutter with enthusiasm.

With encouragement like this, how could he not try to pursue you?

Barbatos

I like to think there’s some kind of errand boy roaming around the castle. Not necessarily a boy, but still a child doing a little bit of everything and helping whoever gives an order. They’re quick and cheeky, making the staff cheerier and less stressed about their chores, and Barbatos finds them surprisingly charming.

He doesn’t mind them running between his legs as long as they know when to stop and don’t hinder his work and, unlike the little Ds, that turns out to be what happens.

Barbatos tries not to get attached at first and a long time passes until he can’t deny the affection he feels for the little devil.

When I say long, I mean long.

Decades, even a couple of centuries, unable to ignore the lack of parental presence in the child’s life. They’re always in the castle, going from one point to another, talking to everyone and sticking to no one. The few moments they have to rest are spent with the prince’s butler, talking about their day with breathless excitement.

It’s a nice dynamic that Barbatos enjoys more and more with each passing day, but it isn’t until the rest of the staff informs him of every little thing the kid does that he finally realizes how deep he has fallen into the rabbit hole.

He is a father figure.

Again.

He isn’t complaining, not at all, but it still surprises him.

More time passes until he gathers the courage to ask Lord Diavolo for a room inside the castle for the child to sleep in. His cheeks are warm when he specifies he’d prefer if the room were close to his and the embarrassment only grows when the prince laughs out loud with excitement.

By the time you are introduced as the second human exchange student, everyone treats the kid as Barbatos’s and they even call him ‘father’ when they’re alone. Neither are ashamed of their mutual affection, but they’d rather keep it private.

The child likes to tease you harmlessly, joking around, asking pertinent questions under the disguise of childish innocence and appearing out of nowhere when you least expect it.

They won’t mind if you lightly reprimand them for their constant playful behaviour, that’s what their father does after all, but they’ll quickly love you if you joke back.

Either way, he likes to follow you around and Barbatos instantly notices. It piques his curiosity and warms his heart, but with how highly the child talks about you and how much you captivate him on your own, he starts to wonder if he should’ve pulled the kid away from you since the beginning.

His strong feelings for you are foreign, but not unwelcomed. He’s just too vigilant of all the possible outcomes.

Fortunately for you, for every doubt Barbatos has about these feelings, the child has a dozen reasons to make them stronger.

Solomon

How many wives did King Solomon have again? How many concubines? How many children out of all of those partners?

I’m not saying that any of those children succeeded in achieving immortality like him, I doubt that could’ve happened so early in his life, but outliving human partners doesn’t mean that Solomon chose to refuse to have any more partners at all.

I can see him entering a relationship with someone who has a longer lifespan and, regardless of that arrangement being casual or committed, having a child with them.

Maybe the other parent passed away, maybe they didn’t want to be in a relationship, maybe they tried and failed to stay together… who knows, you can choose your favourite. The conclusion here is that Solomon kept the child and raised them alone.

Feral child vibes, I fear.

As devious as their father and completely oblivious to it, they are too curious for their own good. Exploration and experimentation through trial and error are fairly common practices in the family and the only reason Solomon isn’t worried is because he’s sure nothing wrong will happen as long as he is there.

The kid may appear at the front door of their house with an eldritch horror-looking creature and Solomon would be like: ‘You’re doing amazing, sweetie’.

He knows introducing his child to a human infant is not the best of ideas. They would have to move places constantly due to their slow ageing to not raise suspicion and that would be completely unfair to the kid. They’re allowed to have permanent friends their age, after all, not a playmate turned into a babysitter or faceless companions that would disappear in their memories over time.

So they mostly engage with other immortal beings, like witches, demons and fellow sorcerers.

That saddens Solomon in a way; the human part he passed to his child is slowly dying due to lack of interaction.

This is why the human exchange program Diavolo proposes is so interesting to him.

Not only is he going to meet one of his kind in a world he easily moves around, but his child is also going to get the opportunity to be with another human in an environment they feel comfortable in.

It goes as well as you could expect.

Both of them are curious and eager to meet you, but at the beginning of your friendship it feels more like academic research. You stick to the brothers and their antics and they stick to the angels and their kindness.

If Luke is a Chihuahua, then Solomon’s kid is a thirteen-year-old delirious Yorkie.

As time passes and your friendship develops into something more genuine, Solomon can’t help but feel like he’s finally breathing fresh air after being locked in a cave for years.

His child still explores their surroundings, but there’s a new hope in their actions that he knows doesn’t come from him. It’s true childlike wonder and care towards their subject of study. An appreciation of life only a mortal would express.

You don’t understand how much you changed his child’s life.

And you don’t understand how much he loves you for it.

Simeon

I mean.

Luke.

He already is a single father in canon.

I don’t know how angels are born in the game, but they do grow up. Maybe Luke just spawned and was put under Simeon’s direct care, but there isn’t any mention of other parental figures in Luke’s life back in the Celestial Realm (although that may be due to the game being lazy with lore).

We know Michael is Luke’s hero, but not a father figure, so Simeon as a single father makes total sense.

A single mom who works two jobs and loves her kids and never stops.

Jk, jk…

But for real, though.

Simeon is thoughtful, affectionate, careful with Luke’s emotions and conscious about his need to mature and grow up. He treats him like a child, because that’s what he is, but tries not to infantilize him to not hurt his dignity.

While proud of Luke’s morals and golden heart, Simeon wants to make him see not everything is black and white and he’s allowed to have opinions that can differ from what they’ve been taught.

Some demons are good, some humans are consciously devious and some angels need to reevaluate their priorities.

It is a difficult task since Luke is certainly stubborn, but spending time in the Devildom is the perfect opportunity to prove that point.

Thankfully, your presence only helps Simeon change Luke’s judgemental thoughts. You are patient, easy-going and lighthearted and don’t get too stressed when the young angel refuses to reject his views on demons.

They both enjoy spending time with you because your soul is still kind and free of punishment, but for Simeon is much more than that.

He enjoys being with you because it feels natural and because knowing you feels like the greatest gift he has received in a very long time.

Believe him, Luke’s praises about you have nothing to do with the love he has for you. Those are just an additional bonus.

.

.

Taglist: @ilovecandys2010  @ollieoven @kingofspadesdelusion @whimsybloom

[respectthepetty]

The Heart Killers' Colors? - Finale

There comes a moment where I continuously run into walls when I'm trying to figure out the colors in a show, so I finally just start Bird-Boxing it (stop seeing the colors and just start enjoying the feels), and now that I am watching the last episode of this series, I have decided it's time to forget the colors and embrace the vibes. Therefore, I'm Bird-Boxing it.

Because if I weren't, I'd be big mad that even with the divider in the way to give me the perspective of being in prison, Kant and Style are wearing whatever colors they are wearing right now when I fully believe Kant is a Green Guy and Style is a Red Rascal.

But like most white cops, I'm only seeing what I want to.

And what I'm choosing to see is Style FINALLY wearing that amazing pink top as he openly announces that he wants to touch the man he loves to Kant (in blue?!) and this cop who I feel was not homophobic when this all started but is slowly beginning to hate the gays after having to deal with Style regularly.

But it works! And Kant is now teaching art in the prison while wearing . . . orange? Red? I don't know. I said I was Bird-Boxing this, and that's what I'm going to do, so I need to be more invested in the simple fact that Kant did not allow Bison to keep the broken pencil to shank the next man who thinks he can run up on him. Smart move, Kant. We don't want more prison time!

Fadel has been in prison for one whole day and, somehow, looks even more angelic. Baby, not murdering people looks good on you. It makes your skin glow.

Or is it love that makes Fadel look good? Because I'd also look happy if I turned a corner in prison and saw this fine man standing in front of me instead of the little bit of rage I'm currently feeling since Style is wearing green. /Bird Box\

OH THANK GOODNESS! HE HEARD ME! Style, you have always been my favorite . . . after Fadel, so you deserve to get choked by your man today (because we know you like it!).

Kant is going to stay on his bullshit I see, but I am surprised that in this GMMTV prison, they change uniforms every single year when I can't even get tres leches in this economy.

Speaking of GMMTV - Break. Up. The. Ships. We all know what I'm talking about here.

Bison has a big bro and now a big sis. I also sit like this in my chanclas and short shorts when I'm minding other people's business. I trust this one with my life and my sexual exploits.

I know prison sex is happening and that should take priority, but Kant is wearing red, which is Red Rascal Bison's color, on the day that they have sex, and I think that is peak romance. Bison and I are easy. Wear our color and have sex with us in public places, so we know it's real. Simple!

But I am shocked that Style is not having public prison sex too! Instead, he is having to handle Fadel pouting because our Black Brooder is still so scared to lose Style that he will push him away first. Style, you are now my favorite. You show that man you a crazy committed. Emphasis on "crazy."

I know that was Jojo, but I have a 30 images limit AND NOW STYLE IS WEARING RED AGAIN and lying about Fadel going to culinary school! I knew there was a reason he was my favorite. Lie, Laugh, Love, babygirl.

Babe has not been around much, but this is a deep kid with all his Shakespeare books and giving Bison The Count of Monte Cristo. Of course he would want his brother's name. He is going to do well in life because his bother raised him right and especially because while his brother honeymooned on an island for Lord only knows how long after being taken hostage, Babe was fine by himself. I didn't forget that even if the plot did.

Fadel, my little emo homo is a clear case of "you can take the black off the brooder, but he will never stop brooding" because the way he is still upset that he misses Style when he isn't around is so endearing. He needs to go back to that support group when he gets out though because this is ~trauma~ speaking.

BUT THEY'RE FREE!!!!! (and nobody is in their color because this show hates me)

I already knew Style had bought the restaurant back, so I don't know why I'm acting surprised right now, but I think it's the way Fadel is looking at him with so much love that is just hitting me right in my feels.

And even though I know now is not the time to state this as everyone is getting kidnapped, I can't help but notice Khaotung is beautiful. Not Bison. Khaotung. I did not appreciate him enough in this show. I''m sorry, beautiful.

I could tell Lilly had lost her money because her invite was in Sharpie like a last minute garage sale sign. She could've saved the paper and sent a text. Also, when did they learn English in Hitman School? Between Guns 101 and Poisons 210?

I feel this way when I visit my family too, guys. And by that, I mean awkward, hostile, and most times as if I'm there as a forced hostage. BUT BISON AND FADEL ARE WEARING THEIR COLORS!!!! Kant and Style though? /Bird Box\

Forgive me, Father, for I know this devil has done wrong, but I am still very attracted to her. I think I can save her, and if not, at least I can have a good time trying. Amen.

I thought they should've shot her in the bathroom long ago, so I ain't mad that murder is back on the (dinner) table after she was trying to kill the last living parent and Babe! She did trained her sons to finish the job, so she should at least be proud that she trained them well, but I really wanted Keen to come in and finally show her he was capable of seeing a murder all the way through. I also didn't forget abut him even if the plot did.

They just murdered their mother, so shooting the beginning of the scene behind the bars isn't funny, but what is funny is the fact that I know people with felonies can get into Iceland without a special visa unlike other countries. I learned this from a lesbian when I went there for Pride a few years ago. We were discussing sheep, so it clearly made sense within the conversation.

STYLE GOT THE CAR! THE PLOT DID NOT FORGET! And the dots on the die keychain are red!

Fadel is too pretty to be looking at his man like that after five years of being locked up. This man is about to get that good shit! Every. Single. Day.

FADEL LOVES HIM 100%!

Even though I have Bird-Boxed my way through the colors in this final episode (yes, I have), I like that the boys ended up in Iceland seeing the Northern Lights, so they have a green coloring to them (for a Green Guy?!). Also, I highly suggest going to Iceland. Björk, as an institution, makes sense once you visit. Trust me.

And now Fadel doesn't give two shits about Style driving safely because he found love in a hopeless place, and if they die in Bangkok traffic, they'll die together (since Fadel already has the graves dug).

In conclusion, Fadel is a Black Brooder, Bison is a Red Rascal, and much like Fadel in love, I don't give two effs what anybody has to say because according to me, myself, and yo, Style is also a Red Rascal, and Kant is a Green Guy.

But I wouldn't know any of that because /Bird Box\

[angelsdean]

hot take maybe but actually i do expect my mom to comfort me and make me an ice cream sundae when i’m sad even when i get to 40 and she’s 70. my grandma does that for her still. it’s not. limiting her. it’s not saying she only has to be my mommy. i have taken care of her too. it’s saying we love each other and want to take care of each other. mary struggling to be able to interact with grown up sam and dean was very very valid and understandable and i love her for it. she also could’ve maybe tried a little more anyway. they could’ve lent on each other. idk.

Yea i've said before that I think it's a bit outrageous the way people seem to think someone stops being a parent once their child reaches adulthood. Maybe it's a cultural thing, I don't know, but the whole idea of "once your kid turns 18 they're out the door and not your problem anymore" is so deeply flawed IMO. But yea I focus more on "debunking" the claim that Dean expects some sort of motherly coddling / babying from Mary because that seems to be the deancrit take I see the most with regards to this arc / the "i'm not just a mom" scene.

But for sure many people seem to have some weird ideas IMO about what it means to be a parent. Like I think you can feel for Mary and understand that parents can and are more than just parents, but also understand that they will never stop BEING a parent either. Their kids will always be their kids. It's why people always say being a parent is a full time job, not something to go into lightly, that you should be sure you actually want kids and understand that having them is a lifelong commitment etc etc. And having kids makes them become your priority, even when you want to be selfish you always have to try to put them first. Obviously that lessens as they grow up but like, if your adult child were injured or had some kind of health issue / challenges as a parent it's still your job to be there for them, to support them, to care for them. That doesn't just end at 18. It's why *I* know that even though I like the idea of kids I probably never will have any because it's so much responsibility and because those kids are always always going to come first, forever! That's kind of part of the parental "contract" IMO. And even when they're adults, a parent should still be the one person in the world your kid can turn to, rely on, seek comfort in.

And I understand these expectations are complicated in this particular narrative by the fact that Mary died young and is not equipped to be a mother to adults. I think that's such a delicious component that I wish they leaned into more. She is grieving her babies. She is allowed to feel those feelings and feel confused and unsure and struggle with accepting this new dynamic with her children. But a big part of Mary's arc in s12, which culminates in 12x22 with "I need you to see me" is that she is the one stuck in the past, needing to accept her reality and "SEE" her children for who they are now. That's what the arc is moving towards, that acceptance. And after s12 we see her and Dean have a better relationship. We see her still getting to be Mary the person AND Mary the "mom." She hunts, she comes and goes, but she's someone Dean can talk to, share a meal with, spend time together. It's what he always wanted most. He tells her in 14x11 that "just knowing you're around, that you're alive has meant everything to me."

Anyways, I won't ramble about all that again because I've made a bunch of posts about it already. But yes, I think it's normal for Dean (and Sam) to want Mary to comfort them, do nice things for them, the way any parent or really a family member in general might do. They are not asking for kisses on their boo-boos and getting tucked into bed with a bedtime story, which is how a lot of deancrit posts read. What they want is some sort of familial reciprocal care. Like the way Dean spends quality time with those he loves. The way he baked a cake for Jack. Cooks for his family. The way he gives people gifts. The way he fixes Cas's truck. The way he calls to check in on people. He doesn't do these things out of some obligation or playing some "role", he does them because he cares. Because he loves his family, and that's just what family does for each other.

Someone in my tags last night said it very well that what Dean really wanted was just, another family member, to spend time with, to share their joys and burdens with. Someone like Bobby, that he could turn to if he needed. Bobby was a parent figure but he wasn't "parenting" them, y'know? He was someone Dean could lean on, but he didn't expect Bobby to shoulder all his burdens. And I think that's what Dean wants most. Just someone he can lean on and rely on, since he's been having to be the strong one for everyone his whole life.

[kaienmaru]

@braveryhearted ( cont. )

“but kintoki, my information network has alerted me of the emergence of this terrifying thing called 'involuntary celibate', and i'm just trying to prevent it from happening to you! because you're my good friend!”

[rq-producerperson]

Hello!

Basic question: any tips for getting into a career involved with creative stuff? (Anything, but specifically audio design and writing.)

Additional information about my specific situation I suppose: I'm heading into my second year of college, and have been working towards getting my degree in anthropology with the hope of going into artifact preservation/restoration. However that's kind of always been a... Second priority, I suppose, as I've always wanted to make a living off of my writing, but assumed that even if that was really possible, I should get a degree in something else.

Last year at school I was working as a stage tech for the college of the arts there (mainly for concerts, not theatre), and I loved it a ton and genuinely wouldn't mind a career in that vein.

The last three months I've been working a shitty assembly line job (9 hour days in a windowless room doing the same thing over and over and over and-). The only plus side to it is I've had plenty of time to listen to stuff, and I've gotten really into Magnus. The Q&A episodes and things like that made me realize that there are other things I could do (and love) in a creative vein than just writing. I'd also never considered that my enjoyment of doing tech for live stuff might translate outside of that, but I really genuinely think it would.

So next year I'm taking a bit of a jump and I'm going to be taking some of the introductory journalism courses at my school. (There's a film and media production emphasis under the major with plenty of room for more fiction-oriented work. And then grad school is something I've been seriously considering since I learned the word anthropology, so that's still very on the table if I choose to pursue this.)

This has been a really big switch for me, and quite frankly I'm terrified of getting stuck at a job like the one I currently have for the rest of my life, with a creative degree just rotting in the corner. (At least with anthropology there would probably be another five+ years of school after undergrad, so that was less of a looming issue.)

Just... Any advice on getting my foot in the door? Especially with hopes of eventually moving out of the states?

Sorry for such a long ask, I'm very bad at being brief. :p

Thank you!

Heya, thanks for the Ask. I’ve had this one sitting for a while thinking of the best way to answer, because the truth is that life is variable so I struggle to give what I feel is meaningful advice when the landscape is always shifting.

However, I’ll do my best with what I know.

The keys that I think are best are Patience, Perseverance, and People.

First, Patience.

I’ve mentioned this a few times but it’s important to remember, life changes quickly and the creative market is constantly shifting. Being able to pursue a job in the creative industry means having the patience to wait for the right wave to paddle to, the right gust to lift you up. But like with nature, there is never a guarantee that the winds or tides of fate will flow your way. There’s an element of chance to it.

You have to be prepared to change and take chances when you feel they are right for you. Shoot out before you’re comfortable and you’ll sink, wait too long and you’ll miss a great wave. I can’t give an answer to when is best to know your ready or what the right chance is to take. I CAN however advise that waiting, watching, and learning is the best chance to take that shot. So, learn as much as you can and stay curious and adaptable.

Second, Perseverance

When you have decided a path to trod, a wave to ride. You commit. Know how to move with the current and keep your focus. It’s easy to keep laying out options, but when you have found that Moment that’s right for you to act on your chosen course, you can go in half way.

Before RQ and during the first half of my employment here I was always working two jobs. I’ve done retail, freelance, post graduate work, office administration, accounting, entertainment hosting, you name it. I was an office assistant when I started at RQ but quickly knew that even though I couldn’t make money with it (it was still just Alex in a Yurt at that time), I wanted to commit to it, to make that job the best thing I could do, and I kept a simple day job to make ends meet. I got lucky, I found a mentor who taught me how to advocate for myself and that I had a creative voice after spending years being beaten down. But I also had the conviction and perseverance to know there was something worth building on.

And we did that together.

Which brings me to my last point, People.

You hear a lot in the creative industry that it’s “about Who you Know” and that’s true, but not entirely in the way you think. Learn about people, what their strengths are, how they compliment each other. Surround yourself with likeminded people that want to attain the same goal, have the same passions. Breaking through the creative industry cannot be done in a vacuum. Always make sure you have a support network of other passionate, skilled, and dedicated humans.

Don’t know how to meet people? I bet you do more than you think. Fandom was my in, not just from shooting my shot, but for teaching me how to work creatively with others. (I still try to do art companion work with fanfic writers when I can)

So yea, maybe it’s a standard answer or underwhelming, but the truth is there is no magic key. There’s Skill, Luck, Determination, and Community that make these kind of jobs possible.

[colourstreakgryffin]

can you do Tanjiro x fem reader where he finds out that she’s been getting bullied and he comforts her?

if you’re not comfortable with that it’s ok, no pressure:3

Oooh! Okay! I think I can definitely do this one as I have a idea for Tanjiro this time. I love this boy so much! I assume this is set in a more Kimetsu Academy AU-based world!

Kamado Tanjiro- Protection Squad

Right from the very beginning, Tanjiro could tell something was wrong with you but he couldn’t place his finger on WHAT the problem actually was. The way you enter the class so gloomy and cry over your lunch in privacy

Who is hurting you?! … and what is their address?

Tanjiro doesn’t like to snoop, even on his crush. To him, it’s offensive and invasive but his concern for you elevates his morality. After a few days, he finally finds out the cause of your misery

Bullies… of course. Why didn’t he see it sooner? Your hidden bruises, the way you pull down your skirt. You have girls picking on you ruthlessly, and he couldn’t protect you from them

He was the worst. Such a idiot, why was he oblivious to your pain?! What kind of boyfriend would he make if he can’t even notice your distress

Tanjiro won’t accept that, girls find you annoying or ugly, in the slightest, his first priority is cheer you up then get those girls disciplined. Tanjiro immediately marches to you and pulls out of the room to talk with you alone

Your bawling breaks his heart into several crumb-sized pieces but he stays strong for you

“Hey! What is going on here?” A familiar yet angelic voice barks out firmly but politely from behind the backs of the typical popular girls that crowded you. It was like this everyday…

The girls would track you down, corner you, pull your hair, harass you, tell you to commit seppuku and berate your sense of self-worth. It has gotten so bad that you cried almost everyday and you never thought anybody would notice your wails for help but with the ways the girls snapped to face the voice, your sore puffy eyes lighten up, almost brighter than the sun as Tanjiro pouted firmly with his arms crossed

“Are you five bullying your junior? That is cruel and inhumane, you should know better! If have a problem! You should just talk about it!” Tanjiro pipes out, stepping closer without letting his eyes wonder off the group huddled over you. Despite his cute friendly face, gorgeous plum red eyes and sympathetic beautiful smile, Tanjiro always emitted this strange yet intimidating aura when he was angry and you could tell that he was angry

You could tell it was effecting the girls as a number of them shivered and cowardly tried to curl into themselves. Tanjiro would never raise a fist to a woman, rather they be cruel to another woman but he wasn’t above scaring them off. Once he had reached the miniature wave of people, his eyes gestured to the obvious black stump on the roof

The security cameras. Tanjiro must have had everything he seen himself be recorded, so he could have solid evidence

The group of over-blinged monstrous seniors rushed off, the blonde leader pulling at their wrists with a angry scowl, she devoted that ‘this was not over’. Once they had waddled away with their tails inbetween their legs, you felt your weakened knees collapse and Tanjiro reacted and acted much faster than you could process what happened and caught you before you could thump onto your knees

“Dokusha. Are you okay? Are you hurt? How long has this been happening? Why didn’t you tell me anything! I could have protected you sooner! Taken you to class every single day until they face punishment” Tanjiro let his heavy concern bleed out of him like a rapidly spilling wound, finally releasing from his tightening heart from it’s shackles as his arms continued to support you and lift you to your weak feet. Not even faltering one bit, Tanjiro kept gazing into your eyes with a soft smile

Those… gorgeous, sympathetic plum reds made you feel warm, fuzzy and glowing. As if all the hate and negativity over those girls’ harsh words were being vacuum-sucked out of your systems. You weren’t alone anymore, Tanjiro is here now and he knows everything but he only wished he knew sooner

He had failed you but no more, he refuses to fail you again

“Let it out, Dokusha… I promise, those girls won’t pick on you again. I will always be with you” Tanjiro gently spoke, treating your emotions as if they were as fragile as glass as he crouched down to pick you off your feet to better hold you in a defensive manner. You would have blown up in hot red blush and hysterically stutter at your longtime crush basically carrying you like a groom does to his bride but you were too upset to realise it, sobbing deeply and covering your face with your dainty, bruised palms

Tanjiro couldn’t standing have to hear your crying, each tear shed and sharp breath felt as if a knife was repetitively shanking his heart and it made him cringe at imaginary pain. You didn’t deserve to be in this much pain, you’re amazing. Why can’t those girls see that? See what he sees in you? You’re so sweet, so kind, so welcoming, so talented, so….

Beautiful

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓 oh no buck don’t do it you know you don’t truly enjoy sex without commitment cmon man keep it in your pants

He had a brief slip haha!

102 for 🐓:

----

“Maybe you should change your ticket to El Paso,” Maddie says gently.

Buck chuckles wryly. “If that’s what Eddie wanted, he’d have asked. No. Maddie, he’s… He’s there reconnecting with Chris. That’s the priority.” 

“Well, you’re a priority for him, too, Buck.”

Buck shakes his head. “Not like this. Just… Can we drop the whole Eddie thing?”

“Buck-”

“How about we psychoanalyze the fact that I just slept with my high school ex girlfriend’s husband while she watched?” He volunteers.

“Oh my god,” Maddie says. “Okay, no. I don’t want to talk about that unless you really need to.”

“I don’t really need to,” Buck says.

He gets it. He gets why he did it. They were two people he once cared about who left him behind. They wanted him. It made him feel good. Until the second it didn’t. He knows the sort of mistakes he used to be prone to, the behavior. Maybe Hershey, being surrounded by his past, is regressing him. 

“Okay,” Maddie replies. “Uh, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Buck says. “Bobby invited me to Christmas dinner. I’ll be fine.”

But even after she leaves, he can’t stop thinking about what she said about his feelings for Eddie. 

⬅️

Chim drives him to the airport the next morning, even though Buck had been set on taking a cab. He was already feeling guilty enough for the way Jee-Yun reacted when she learned he was leaving. She wanted to go with him. Caring more about spending Christmas with him than her grandparents. Which, of course. She knows him better. He felt horrible. 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Chim had whispered. “I’m on your side here, okay? Just let me drive you.”

So he does.

“You call Bobby about this yet?” Chim asks halfway through the drive.

“No,” Buck says. “Not yet.” 

“You should do that,” Chim says. 

“Why?” Buck asks. 

“I don’t know, man,” Chim sighs. “You’re just always better off when you talk things through with him.”

Well, that’s true.

“I’ll call him at my gate,” Buck promises. “You’re right.”

He doesn’t though. 

Instead, he calls Christopher. In the limited time he has before he needs to board his plane, it’s more important to return Christopher’s call than comfort himself by calling Bobby. The airport is insanely busy. Christmas Eve travel, as ill-advised as always. Buck regrets so many of his life choices that led him here, but not the choice to leave today. By the time he gets through security, it’s nearly noon. A good enough time to call Chris. 

“Buck?” Chris answers the phone immediately. He sounds upset. 

“H-hey, Chris,” Buck says. “Um, are you okay?”

He hears Chris clear his throat a little.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” 

It’s a lie. Buck can tell it’s a lie. But what’s he going to do? Press and make Chris hang up? The kid runs away from talking things through now. Buck knows that all too well.

“Just a bit tired,” Chris continues. 

Right. Okay. 

“Well, it’s great to hear your voice, bud,” Buck says. “Thanks for calling yesterday. Sorry I missed it.”

“That’s okay,” Chris says. “Thank you for the present.” 

“You are so welcome. The headset works okay?”

“Yeah, they’re great!” Chris replies, voice sounding perky for the first time. “I couldn’t even hear Grandma blasting her weird music earlier.” 

Buck chuckles. “That’s perfect. Hey, do you have fun plans today?”

“No,” Chris grumbles. 

“On Christmas Eve? Really?” Buck asks. As far as Eddie has said, the Diaz family is pretty big on holiday gatherings. 

“I had breakfast with Dad,” Chris says, and the strange gloomy tone finds his voice again. “And they’re making me go to Midnight Mass.” 

“Oof,” Buck replies. “How do you stay awake?”

“I don’t know! I never had to do it before.”