#and i will not tone down anything about that because that's why i find his character so fun to write

[watcher7-9]

Danheng is the type to...

He’s the type to go cook your food at 3:00 in the morning just because you said you were hungry. He’ll reassure you it’s alright if you feel guilty as he gets up and goes to the kitchen to make something. He’ll even wash the dishes before going to bed and not just leave them there.

He’s the type to always give you his mittens or jacket every time it’s cold outside. He’ll also take your coat just in case because every time you say “I won’t get cold” but he knows better. You had persuaded him once to share the large scarf when you two were seated at a bench when it was snowing outside.

He’s the type to read you bedtime stories to help you sleep every time you couldn’t. Tucking you in beforehand and arranging your plushies how you liked around you. Finer running along the spines of his book collection. Picking up on the one he read you yesterday as he flipped to the bookmarked page.

He’s the type to make voices for your plushies every time you were sick just to get you to eat the cold medicine and get some rest. His face had a slight red as he tried to make a squeaky voice for one of your cuddle buddies. But these voice actings were only for when you were sick, every time you begged he would find an excuse due to how embarrassed he is.

He’s the type to creative handmade presents for you. Anything you want he’ll make for you. Paper flowers? You got them. Crochet plushies? He’s willing to learn for you. You have a small collection of CD’s of your favorite books he had recorded of his own voice reading.

He’s the type to be so patient when he helps you with stuff. Tutoring you on your homework when you don’t get it. Even if you dont get it after so many tries he won’t yell at you, he’s patient and doesn’t raise his voice. Only maybe a small sigh but won’t complain in front of your face. Also helping you with organizing notes, flash cards, making plans, etc.

He’s the type to never raise his voice at you. He doesn’t see why he should, if there’s a problem you two should communicate it out. The only times he ever yelled at you was when you got hurt when you two were together. The fear in his eyes as he scolded you louder than usual. His hands shaking as he tended to your injuries. He had apologized afterward for his sudden outburst and was stuck to your side until you were better.

He’s the type to be so insecure around you in his Vidyadhara form. His tail sticking from behind him twitching as the pair of horns sat on his head. He didn’t want you to see him like that. But after a lot and a lot of reassuring and working things out you were allowed to touch them with permission. His face would get so red when you teased him about them. Your fingers caressing the jade like texture of his horns as he tried to read, you kindly reminded him that his book was upside down.

He’s the type to wrap his tail around you possessively when he’s jealous. He’ll question about the man you were talking to so…cheerfully. Trying to keep his tone steady and casual. It didn’t make him feel good not one bit how casual you were talking with the other dude and how you had shook his hand. Though he tried to push down those feelings he couldn’t help but feel this way. Tail around your waist as you sat next to him rambling about your day. But when you tried to get up you could feel it tighten, not letting you get up.

[evilbirdy]

can u write a se mi x fem reader where se mi goes along with thanos who keeps flirting w her gf(reader) then mocked him later after se mi said that she’s shes dating the readerr T—T

𝕥𝕖𝕝𝕝 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 *𝕓𝕠𝕪𝕗𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕟𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕚𝕞 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕘𝕚𝕣𝕝𝕗𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕟𝕕

ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ ~ ᴛᴇʟʟ ʏᴏᴜʀ ɢɪʀʟꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ ʙʏ ʟᴀʏ ʙᴀɴᴋꜱ

A/N: This might be updated into a whole different story

ɪ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʟɪᴋᴇ ꜱᴇᴠᴇʀᴀʟ ᴅɪꜰꜰᴇʀᴇɴᴛ ᴠᴇʀꜱɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜰɪᴄ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ɪ ᴅɪᴅɴ’ᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴅɪʀᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ɪ ᴡᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ɢᴏ , ɪ ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀᴅᴅɪɴɢ ᴛᴏᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ʀᴇᴀʟɪᴛʏ ᴛᴏ ᴍʏ ꜰɪᴄꜱ ʙᴜᴛ ɪ ᴅɪᴅ ʙᴀꜱᴇᴅ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅɪᴀʟᴏɢᴜᴇ ᴏɴ ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴅᴜᴅᴇꜱ ɪɴ ʜɪɢʜ/ᴍɪᴅᴅʟᴇ ꜱᴄʜᴏᴏʟ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ꜱᴀɪᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ ᴏʀ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʜᴇᴀʀᴅ. ꜱᴏ ɪᴍ ᴀᴅᴅɪɴɢ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ɪ ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴀɴʏᴏɴᴇ ɢᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ᴜɴᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛᴀʙʟᴇ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ᴄᴜʀꜱɪɴɢ, ɴᴀᴍ-ɢʏᴜ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴋɪɴᴅᴀ ᴡᴇɪʀᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀ ᴡᴏᴍᴀɴ ʜᴀᴛᴇʀ (ᴡʜᴇɴ ɪꜱ ʜᴇ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛʙʜ), ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴋɪɴᴅᴀ ᴄʟᴜᴇʟᴇꜱꜱ/non-confronting?,ᴛʜᴀɴᴏꜱ ɢɪᴠɪɴɢ ᴛɪᴋᴛᴏᴋ ꜰ-ʙᴏʏ ᴠɪʙᴇꜱ, ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ꜱʟɪɢʜᴛʟʏ ꜱᴘɪᴄʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ʙᴜᴛ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ, ꜱʟɪɢʜᴛ ‘ᴘᴏꜱꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇ’ ꜱᴇ-ᴍɪ (ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱQᴜɪɴᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡʜᴀᴛᴇᴠᴇʀ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴏɴꜱɪᴅᴇʀ ᴘᴏꜱꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇ)

ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ 100% ʜᴏɴᴇꜱᴛ, ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴡᴀꜱɴ’ᴛ ᴏɴᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ʙᴇꜱᴛ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ, again I’m not trying to make anyone feel uncomfortable or antsy with this fic. SO I might post the more ‘tamer’ versions in the future if you guys want them 😭😭

ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ɪ ᴄᴀɴ’ᴛ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ᴀ ꜰɪᴄ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴀᴅᴅɪɴɢ ᴀ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴛʜᴀɴᴏꜱ x ɴᴀᴍ-ɢʏᴜ <3

Se-Mi was still holding your hand as you entered the room for the second game. You were told to make a group of five, you followed her as she talking to this quiet player, 125. You let go of her hand for a second, walking around, looking for other players. You drew imaginary circles on the ground when a man called your attention.

“Hey sweet thing,” you furrowed your eyebrows. You looked up to see the famous dude everyone was talking about.

“Yes?” you crossed your arms, tilting your head to the side. What could this dude want with you.

“Well, I saw you looking around for other players and thought I’d help you out baby, I would die knowing I’m leaving a pretty thing like you stranded. Why don’t you join me and my friend here, I’ll protect you and make you feel loved. Like a husband and you are one of my wives,” did this dude just say one of his wives.

You nod slowly, biting your lip trying to keep your laugh in.

“I would but you should know I have two other teammates,” you were hoping that it would shoo him off but he insisted on having you and your teammates on his team.

You turned to your right revealing Se-Mi and her friend to Thanos, much to his friend’s protest, Thanos accepted. You look at Se-Mi keeps giving Thanos small looks.

Before you can grab Se-mi’s hand, Thanos takes yours and pulls you along with him. As comically as she finds, Se-Mi finds it insufferably more. She had to stop herself from punching a wall.

After you completed the game, Thanos kept you around and has been flirting ever since. He would kiss your hand, wraps his arm around you, blow kisses at you.

You on the other hand are became kinda tone-deaf to it, you always acted this way with your friends back in high school. But that’s different, this is a medley of death games not high school. You never really thought anything of it because you didn’t even like men like that and you thought you gave that energy.

Se-Mi got tired of it after the first ten minutes, Nam-gyu wasn’t helping, actually, he was making it weirder with his names towards you.

“Wifey,” you and Se-Mi conversation was interrupted by someone grabbing your hand mid-way. You sigh and turned to the culprit.

“Hello, Thanos,” as funny as this was to you, you were almost getting tired. You wanted to spend time with your girlfriend and avoid dying, this was adding on your plate.

“Hey the new game is gonna start tomorrow, you wanna sneak into the bathroom and get stuff done,” he gave you a weird look, eyeing up and down. You gave him a disgusted look.

“Yeah thanks but no thanks. I don’t know where…that has been, I know for a fact you didn’t bring no protection in here,” you scoffed, you turned towards Se-Mi about to continue talking until he pulled on your arm, pulling you towards him.

“oh come on, you might not survive the next round and I wanna make sure you die in bliss,” you looked at him with more disgust and confusion, you have saved his ass way too many times for him to say that, next time you are just gonna let him die.

“Umm yeah nooo,” you pushed him back, staying close to Se-Mi before she says some shit she can’t take back.

“(your name) how dare you, you do realize that THE Thanos is OFFERING you this, man hoes like you never realize how good you have it,” Nam-gyu yells out, bringing slight attention to people close to you guys.

“Umm no offense asshole, but (your name) would not love whatever Thanos is ‘offering’” Se-mi speaks up, you look at her hands and notice her playing with her rings. Oh no, she usually does that when she is ready to hit someone. You place a hand on her arm, hoping to calm her.

“Oh yeah and how the fuck would you know, huh bitch?” Nam-guy urges on as Thanos tries to make him shut up.

“Cause she is my girlfriend you bastard,” she lunges forward but you pull her back, you look at Thanos and Nam-gyu. Thanos had a shock and confusion look on his face while oddly enough Nam-gyu had a weird smirk on his.

“So does that mean you both like make out and stuff, shit if you both would have done that earlier, I would have liked you two more,” Nam-guy started laughing all wild but he stopped when Thanos hit him upside the head.

“I don’t believe it…are you lying to me (your name)? Nah I feel like you both are playing tricks on me,” Thanos says acting all crazy, waving his arms and stuff.

“Are we’re lying huh,” Se-mi grabs your arm and drags you to the bathrooms.

“Uhh what’s up, what’s wron-,” you were interrupted by Se-Mi caging you against the wall, she leans down kissing your neck, keeping you close.

“W-what? What are you doing?” you say

“Showing him what you love, baby,” she brings you closer to her. One of your hand go up and cling onto her shoulder while the other grips her arm.

You hide your face in her neck as she continues her work. When she was done, she left kisses all over your neck and face.

“If those jerks tries anything like that again, I’m suffocating them in their sleep,” you nod mindlessly and started laughing. She was first confused but then laughed with you.

“What was dude thinking haha ‘oh baby girl I’m gonna show you a good time’ haha and what was that face he was making,” you laughed so hard, Se-mi had to keep a grip onto you.

“I think that was him trying to be sexy,” Se-mi covers her face.

You two laughed so much, the guard had to tell you two to hurry up and get out.

If y’all thought Thanos lives this down, he doesn’t . You should’ve seen his face when you came out in with dark marks on your neck.

Oh and every time you guys talk with him, you love mocking his attempts to get at you.

“Oh no Se-Mi haha the game is about to start, we should haha hurry so I can haha die in bliss,” you fall back against Se-mi, slipping into her lap.

“Oh yes haha, because you are definitely gonna die this round hahah no matter how many times you have hahahaha basically carried us, if it isn’t this one, it will definitely be the next one,” she hides her face with how red it is from laughing.

And don’t worry about Nam-gyu and his weird fetish.

“You two should just kiss, it makes me tolerate you both more,” he says rolling his eyes and playing with his food.

“I’ll kiss Se-mi once you kiss Thanos,” you smiled sickly as he spits out his milk.

“Aww not funny when it’s you huh,” Se-mi leans into you.

“That’s different,” Nam-gyu stutters through his words

“Is it?” you both say at the same time, tilting your heads to the side.

“I mean…I’m down,” Thanos says quietly having all of us look at him.

“WHATTT” you two yelled in unison again.

[bunnyinvanilla]

hi my lovee, reader receiving flowers and assuming they’re from price? He gets home and is LIVID

hiii my dear babyyy </3 im in love with this request wanna scream kick my feet giggle girlishly

💐| lil fluff, sugar daddy!john price x sugar baby fem!reader, laaarge age gap, john is in his mid 40s n reader is 21,

it wasn’t your fault :( due to your upcoming exams, you told john that couldn’t go to the bar, hence why you’ve been home all day, studying, what you didn’t expect though, was to find a postman ringing at the door, holding the cutest flower bouquet for you.

your eyes instantly softened at the sight, immediately thinking about john, who’d often make sure to send you flowers when he was away in deployment, or when he couldn’t see you for a long time, getting them delivered to the house.

your cheeks turned the same pink of the flowers, and you quickly thanked the mailman, taking the bouquet from his hands and holding it close to your nose to inhale the fresh, sweet fragrance. 🏷️ | for the sweetest girl in town,

the softest giggle bubbled from your throat, and you quickly ran to the kitchen, filling an empty glass with water to place the flowers into.

and a few hours later, when john came back from the bar just to check on you, see if you needed anything, you practically jumped at him

“thank you for the flowers, daddy, they’re so pretty” you smiled at him, and it seemed like the sun itself had revealed its rays, your warm, blushing cheeks and doe eyes revealing your bashfulness as you stood on your tippy toes and planted a kiss on his mouth, pressing your lips against his.

john just blinked at you, cluelessly, as he returned the kiss, remaining still — his buff, marble crafted body as rigid as a statue “what flowers, doll?”

you plopped back down and tilted your head, smiling in compliance — “the ones you’ve sent me today, sir, i love them, you always remember pink flowers are my favorite”

but that didn’t clear his mind not even a bit — he was sure he hadn’t sent you any flowers today, and it couldn’t even have been one of those monthly bouquet subscription plans he’d signed up for when he was deployed and far away, occupied with long missions, because in that case he would’ve received an email.

so who was the fool that dared to send his girl flowers? to their home?

as if something had switched inside of him, you could see his jaw clenching, muscles flexing in a way that reminded you of a grizzly bear that tried to tame his temper — a shadow of annoyance crossed his eyes as he spoke, “I haven’t sent them, doll”

your smiles faltered briefly, thinking he must’ve been joking, wanted to keep the surprise effect, but when he moved closer to the table, scrutinizing the bouquet like a challenge, a wave of embarrassment flooded over you.

“what do you mean? you always send me flowers, sir..” you spoke meekly, not wanting to fuel the already heavy discomfort you could feel in the air.

john had been through a lot, he’d faced terrorists, had fought the horrors of battles and wars, but nothing had ever spurred that boiling feeling of anger within his chest that was slowly coming to surface now, roughening the edge of his growly tone “not today, sweetheart”

his fingers touched the little envelope tucked around the bouquet’s stem, “a secret admirer, eh?”

his voice was low, teasing in a way that felt both playful and possessive way — he was a grown, confident, adult man, he knew you were all his, and yet, the sight of another man's gesture, especially one so thoughtful, unraveled something inside him, a possessiveness and jealousy that boiled within him.

that jealousy didn’t come from insecurity, but from a certainty of a man who knew what he had and what he wanted to keep for himself, being the seasoned and confident leader he was, he mastered control over any situation with outmost quiet assertiveness.

he didn’t lash out or yell, oh no, he simply looked down with a dry, dark stare “who the fuck sends flowers to a taken girl?”

you opened your mouth and closed it right after, your cheeks blooming red, and walked closer to him, looking at the flowers differently now, since the note didn’t have a name on it. “I supposed they were from you, sir, as usual..”

“no, angel, some bloke thought he could try and win my girl,” he chuckled, a deep, short, chilling laugh that screamed silent anger. “foolish kid, could use some military training in his life and learn how to fookin’ know his limits”

his mustache twitched, like it always did when he tried and keep his anger in check, and he turned towards you, who’d already begun to play with your hair nervously, eyes narrowing worriedly.

“didnt know sir, im sorry, i genuinely thought they were from you..”

you were like a calming, comforting balm to him, poor sweet girl, you were just so innocent and naive :( but whoever had sent them, hadnt left a signature, which now left you wondering how could have possibly been.

he held your chin with his whole hand, lifting it up towards his face, and planted a forceful, heavy kiss on your mouth, feeling you squirm against him when he bit on your bottom lip, “not mad at you, doll, i know you did,”

when he pulled away, he grabbed your chin with his fingers, squeezing softly as he looked down at you with darkened, half lidded eyes — it had probably been a kid from college, and he didn’t feel threatened by that at all, just pissed.

“hes just giving me more things to do with my line of work, princess, just wait until I find out who that bastard is, gonna send him something special,”

you shivered at the silent threat behind his words, his thick British accent lowering to a dangerous tone, a growly and lethal edge to it,

”i can send them back if you want-“

“oh nono, love, know you’d feel bad, let me take care of it, princesses don’t get their hands dirty, their daddies do”

[greengoblinswifey]

https://www.tumblr.com/greengoblinswifey/771997285730205696/thanks-for-ur-answers-on-the-dbfrafe-asks-im

OMG YESSS, I was dying for them to have an actual serious relationship 🤩🤩 just one more thing, how did the dad found out? Bc when he said “you and rafe are what?” at the beginning of the blurb I was like “why are we late to the conversation, roll that back from the beginning” 😭😭🤣 like I want to see his initial recation upon finding out if that makes sense

Thanks for everything omt

a/n— because i’m so generous, enjoy xo

The world as you knew it would come crashing down if your father had ever caught you and his best friend fucking. You and Rafe snuck around too much with a plethora of close calls, thus, you thought it was probably inevitable.

It was weird to wrap your mind around it, but Rafe knew your father better than you did with their friendship surpassing your twenty years on earth.

He was serious about you. You weren’t some dirty secret and he loathed that your entire relationship was you sneaking around behind your dad’s back.

His hands held yours as he stared into your eyes, waiting for your father to enter the living room. “I know your dad better than anyone else. And I know that it’s better we be honest with him about us being together.”

You nodded your head slowly, chewing on your bottom lip.

Your father was chill, he wasn’t an old head or anything and you believed him to be open minded but that didn’t stop you from being scared of what his reaction might be.

Rafe sensed your nervousness and brought you in for a kiss that soothed you, though it didn’t last for long.

“What the fuck?!” your father’s voice boomed throughout the entire house.

You jerked back, startled by his sudden entrance. This was exactly what you were afraid of. Granted, he didn’t catch you fucking or anything, but he saw something before you said anything.

“You’re taking advantage of my fucking daughter!” your father continued, anger evident in his tone.

“Dad, please,” you interjected. “It’s nothing like that. Rafe and I are in a relationship.”

Your dad’s voice thundered through the house, shaking the very walls. “You’re what with Rafe?!”

And that started the most heated discussion you’d ever had with your father that ended with him walking away angrily. Though, he did hear you out a bit.

Before Rafe left he wanted to at least have a one on one conversation with his best friend. They’d never had a disagreement this big and he was couldn’t leave without at least attempting to mend things.

He knocked on your father’s office before opening the door. Your father looked up, still seething from the ordeal.

“Why the fuck are you in here, haven’t you done enough?” he asked, clearly upset.

Rafe took a deep breath before starting. “I’m so sorry man. It was never my intention to hurt you or betray you. I’ve never seen her in that way until a few months ago.”

“It’s my daughter Rafe, that’s what gets me. Why did it have to be her? I know your reputation, you could’ve gone for anyone else,” your father bellowed, fists clenching.

“It had to be her because the love in my heart is only reserved for a woman like her. It’s only reserved for her. I didn’t seek her out, the connection just sparked in a way I didn’t expect. And you’re right, I have a reputation but that’s in the past. I’m ready to settle down and I would never ever hurt her. I swear on my mother’s grave.”

At the mention of Rafe’s mother, your father’s eyes shot up from his clenched fists. Rafe would never mention his mother or even swear on her unless he was serious.

He thought for a moment. You were twenty years old and capable of making your own decisions, he trusted your judgment wholeheartedly. You were one of the most intelligent people he knew and you had good discernment. You never brought home any guys so if you had decided to inform him of your relationship with his best friend of all people, it was serious.

“Alright fine. You can date her, I’ll give you a chance just this once. But I swear to God if you get my little girl pregnant this young or break her heart, I’ll fucking kill you and they won’t find your body,” your dad told him, firmly.

“100% valid and I’m on board,” Rafe said, “thanks man. You know I love you and I love her. I’ll treat her the way she deserves, you raised such an admirable woman.”

Your father stood up and Rafe pulled him in for hug. It was hesitant at first before they both melted into it. The hug signified the love, trust and years of friendship between them. It reminded Rafe of the hug your father gave to him the day his mother died, signifying they’d always be there for each other no matter what. It signified they would remain best friends through whatever hardships they faced.

Now, decades later, that promise stood firm, no matter the circumstance and apprehension.

“Take care of her man. She’s my entire world,” your dad said, tears threatening to prick his eyes as he pulled away from the hug.

“I will. She’s my world now too,” Rafe replied and pulled him into another hug.

Slowly, you pushed open the office door and seeing the sight before you made tears flood your eyes. You walked over to them and Rafe pulled you into the hug.

“I love you both. I’m sorry if I disappointed you dad,” you said, one arm around him.

“I love you more, pumpkin. And you could never disappoint me. Go live your life and be happy, I’ll always be in your corner no matter what.”

[whisper-cats]

Hellooooo! I’m working on a clangen blog of my own, so I’m going around asking my favorite clangen blogs some questions. I’m happy to get answers to whichever you feel like answering (or none at all if you don’t feel like it!)

What program and file size do you use?

If you use a font, what font is it?

How far ahead do you recommend playing?

Do you have any advice for layouts?

Do you have any tips for lighting/drawing fur?

Do you have any tips for making cats look more unique?

If you do backgrounds, do you have any advice for creating them?

If you use them, where do you recommend finding reference images?

hi hi! Thank you for the questions 1. Clip Studio Paint, my comic pages' size is 1600x2900 pixels when I'm working on it, but that includes empty space on the sides where my lines can go over the limits when needed

2. "HP Simplified Hans Regular"... I sort of want to hand-write all of my text tbh, but I thought I shouldn't make things too energy-intensive for myself

3. Depends what you want the structure of your story to be like. For me the important part was the setting that was generated for me so the moons going forward & the brisk pace that that gives you have less importance for my story than they would for most Clangen stories, and therefore I didn't go very far in the moons before I started sketching down pages

4. nah, i'm a newbie on that

5. can't think of anything, sorry

6. I think looking for uniqueness itself can be kind of a trap, and i think it's most important your characters are distinct from their surrounding cast of characters than them looking unique when looking at the wider art community. Any kind of design can be recognizable if it makes an impact. I think using patterning especially can be something people might fall back on too easily to make characters distinct. These are the other ways I like to try make a cat character recognizable and interesting (among their cast): - Experiment with different, even subtly different whiskers, ear sizes and shapes, fur texture (sleek, puffy, curly, spiky, flowy etc) and where that fur might be most prominent in each character (one fluffy cat might have a huge puffy chest fur, another long hair cat might have their long coat look more heavy and pulled by gravity, another cat might have the puffiest tail but less in the chest, etc). Also of course the usual, like different eye and nose shapes. - Use color contrast to make the character demand more attention to itself. If a cat has a big white patch on their face when the rest of their body is dark, it immediately brings your attention to their face. I often like to play up and heighten the contrast of a warm-toned body against cool-toned eyes like Whisperingpaw's reddish body against his deep blue eyes, but it works just as well in reverse or with other color contrasts. This can be muddied though if the design is full of highly contrasting small elements in unimportant places of the body which instead can just become confusing to the eye. It's why I don't really like designs from for example Genshin Impact

^ Whisperingpaw, I even made his grey pawpads more cooltoned than usual for some extra contrasting details - Try designing two characters at once instead of one at a time. When you design two at once, especially if they have some connection to each other, you can already start laying out some opposing or just different physical traits to them. If you make a huge cat next to a small cat, both of their sizes are immediately noticeable traits about the cats that you can perceive and build on. If you only drew one huge or one small cat, you might not really even register their size as part of their design because there is nothing to compare it to. Let their relationship & direct comparison be something that contextualizes them and gives them something more than an empty paper to relate to - Continuing on the "let the characters have something to compare to", a character will always look more beautiful if they are surrounded by more bland or even "ugly" characters. A character's intricate patterns will be more noticeable if surrounded by very simple-style characters. Use this to your advantage and let things like beauty or cuteness be character-specific traits instead of something expected of each design. This is just another benefit to having a diverse cast, it doesn't just give representation to less charismatic styles of characters (which already has so much value by itself), it lets the "beautiful" designs be more convincing to the eye.

for 7. and 8. i don't have an answer to!

Hope that helps :3

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

Sorry to bother, but to elaborate on blackhole reader. What if reader was a goddess & wisest in their pantheon + their sacred animal is cats :)

A/N: Hi!! I added this part of the request into Husk’s version, simply because I saw this while I was writing his, so his should be updated with his request! In this part it’ll just be Alastor and Vox! After I saw this request and was writing for Husk, it kind of gave me ideas for Alastor and Vox, so this went a lot quicker than I thought it would, which I’m actually very proud of. But I hope I got this down right, and thank you so much for your request!!

Warnings: Reader feels kind of self-conscious, Vox is kinda a douche

Navigation!! // Original Request!!

Fill the Void

Your Relationship with Alastor

Your relationship with Alastor is the kind of dynamic that makes the very fabric of Hell pause to take notice. It’s an unlikely match, not because of your power—you, the goddess of your pantheon, the embodiment of wisdom and cosmic destruction—but because of the contrast in your demeanors. Alastor thrives in chaos and control, with his perpetual grin and booming laughter that hides the depths of his complexity. You, in stark contrast, carry yourself with a quiet regality. Your sacred animal, the cat, often seems to mirror your essence: elusive, dignified, and undeniably captivating.

From the moment you crossed paths, Alastor was fascinated—not just by your power but by the way you never smiled, not once. In a realm as gaudy and theatrical as Hell, it was unsettling, magnetic even, to find someone who didn’t give away anything they didn’t want to. Your stillness, your ability to command a room with your silence, challenged him in ways he couldn’t ignore.

At first, Alastor’s interest was purely opportunistic. He isn’t one to let an advantage go unnoticed, and your ability to turn into a black hole—a being of raw destruction that could devour anything in its path—was an advantage of the highest order. Add to that your position as the wisest among your pantheon, and Alastor saw an opportunity to align himself with a force greater than even his own ego.

But things didn’t go as planned. Alastor quickly realized that while he was a master manipulator, you were no fool. Your wisdom and insight meant you saw through his ploys immediately, calling him out with a cool, calm confidence that left him momentarily speechless—a rarity for someone who always had a quip at the ready.

What began as an attempt to use you shifted into something deeper, something he couldn’t control. He found himself lingering in your presence longer than necessary, not because he needed your power, but because he wanted to understand you. How could someone so powerful, so inherently terrifying, also possess such a quiet grace? And why did he feel the need to make you smile?

Alastor, who had always prided himself on his control, began to unravel in small, almost imperceptible ways. He noticed your fondness for cats, how they seemed to gravitate toward you no matter where you went. He once watched as a feral kitten, no doubt terrified of the chaotic realm around it, approached you without hesitation. The moment it curled up in your lap, purring contentedly, Alastor felt something stir in his chest—an emotion he couldn’t name and didn’t want to.

Your ability to turn into a black hole, while awe-inspiring, was another source of fascination for him. The first time you shifted, speaking in that otherworldly language only you could understand, Alastor was both mesmerized and unnerved. He didn’t understand the words, but the tone, the cadence, spoke volumes. It wasn’t just power; it was ancient, cosmic wisdom that no mortal—or demon—could comprehend.

But what struck him most was the vulnerability you revealed when you spoke about your role as a goddess. You confided in him one night, your voice steady but laced with an undercurrent of pain, that you often felt like nothing more than a weapon—a tool to be wielded by those who saw only your destructive capabilities. Alastor, for all his charm and manipulation, couldn’t find the words to respond at first. For the first time in eons, he felt his usual grin falter.

“I’d never think of you as a weapon,” he said eventually, his tone uncharacteristically serious. “You’re… so much more than that.”

And he meant it. Because somewhere along the way, Alastor stopped seeing you as a goddess, a force of nature, or even a challenge. He saw you as you—and for someone like him, who thrived on control and detachment, that was terrifying.

Your Relationship with Vox

Your relationship with Vox is a story of shifting dynamics, of a game played on a chessboard where neither of you intended to lose. Vox is a calculated, ambitious overlord who thrives on power, control, and technological dominance. When he first learned of your existence, he was intrigued—not by you specifically, but by your power. A goddess capable of turning into a black hole, of speaking in a language that defied understanding, was a resource he couldn’t afford to ignore.

At first, Vox approached you with a carefully crafted charm. He flattered you, praised your wisdom and strength, and made it seem as though he respected you as an equal. But you, being the wisest of your pantheon, saw through his intentions immediately. You let him think he was winning, watching as he tried to subtly position himself as someone you could trust. It wasn’t until he made the mistake of trying to bargain with you—offering technology in exchange for your loyalty—that you decided to call him out.

“Do you really think I’m so easily bought?” you asked, your voice calm but sharp enough to cut through his bravado. “You think I don’t know when someone sees me as nothing more than a tool?”

Vox froze, the smile on his screen faltering for just a moment before he recovered. But the damage was done. You walked away that day, leaving him with a bruised ego and a growing curiosity about who you really were.

Over time, Vox’s interest in you shifted. He couldn’t stop thinking about the way you carried yourself—how you never smiled, yet exuded a quiet confidence that made even the most powerful beings take notice. You were an enigma he couldn’t crack, and for someone like Vox, who prided himself on knowing everything, that was both infuriating and captivating.

Your sacred connection to cats amused him at first. He saw it as a peculiar quirk, something that didn’t quite fit the image of a goddess who could summon black holes. But as he watched you interact with them, saw the way they seemed to reflect your quiet, unyielding strength, he began to understand. Cats were independent, wise, and unpredictable—much like you.

The turning point in your relationship came when you confided in him about your struggles. You told him how your pantheon saw you as nothing more than a weapon, a force to be unleashed when necessary and ignored otherwise. Vox listened, for once without interrupting or making a snide remark.

“You’re not just a weapon,” he said finally, his voice unusually soft. “And anyone who sees you that way is a fool.”

You raised an eyebrow, surprised. “Including you?”

Vox hesitated, his screen flickering slightly before he chuckled. “Especially me.”

From that moment on, Vox began to see you differently. He admired your strength, yes, but he also admired your wisdom, your integrity, and the way you carried yourself with unshakable grace. He found himself drawn to you, not because of your power, but because of the person beneath it.

For all his bravado and ambition, Vox discovered that being around you made him feel something he hadn’t felt in centuries: grounded. You didn’t demand his attention or seek to impress him; you simply existed, and that was enough.

And though he would never admit it outright, Vox found himself looking forward to every moment he spent with you. Because in a world where everyone was vying for power and control, you were a reminder of something far more profound. You were a goddess—not just of destruction, but of wisdom, strength, and quiet resilience. And to him, that made you unforgettable.

[hurlumerlu]

i feel like i’m missing something about the ashtray that you’re seeing, so i must ask, what do you find so fascinating about it?

Well this is probably going to end up being a bit embarassing for me, but no, I don't think you're missing anything about the ashtray. I think it's meant to add just a touch of unease and not much else.

The reason I'm so obsessed with it - my neuroses aside - is because of how gratuitous it feels.

As a transition shot (which I'm using to mean "first shot we get to signify we cut from one scene to another", my apologies if it's not the right technical term) it's kind of a jarring one: a simple, abrupt cut from a relatively colorful shot of Kant in his home to this close up of an object in predominently dark and sepia tones. It's also not the most informative one.

All the clues as to where we are (the computer, the notebook, the chair, the lamp) are background things, out of focus. The one thing that is in focus is something that's never really been brought to our attention: yes, the captain is the only character we've seen smoking so far, and yes, the ashtray is technically present in his office when we're introduced to him, but I had to look for it to find it and would have never noticed it otherwise:

So we've got all those rather discreet, almost subliminal informations about our location, and smack in the middle of it the figure of a naked woman tits up, laying under one of tv's most beloved phallic symbols, and it's just... why? Why put that shot in? What's the point? They very well could have just put a shot of the office through one of its doors, they even did it in the cut version.

(informative, very easy to read, but does not set any particular tone)

But they didn't want to, so it has to be purposeful. My thoughts on its purpose below. It turns into me trying to analyse the captain and Kant's relationship, so it gets kinda long, and just as a heads-up, I discuss sexual coercion down the line.

So, like I said in the begining of my post, I think it's meant to add just a touch of unease and not much else. I stand by it, but I am very interested in that unease. Frankly, even if it was the most tasteful sculpture of a bare lady I had ever seen, I would still question its presence in Christ's office (where he works as a police captain.) But it's pretty far from tasteful, isn't it? Regardless of aesthetic considerations (I think it's fugly), it's an ashtray. The captain stubs his cigarettes and drops their ashes on the figure of an arched, naked body. There's inarguarbly an element of sleaze to that choice of prop, or as my wife would put it "yeah, it's here to tell us that cap's kind of a creep."

And it's not the first time the subtext got sleazy around these two either. They had one of their talk in a bathhouse (probably a universal spot for gay hookups, but certifiably a thai spot for gay hookups) in a steam room (even if there wasn't a long history or eroticising those places, Style almost jerked off/blew Fadel in one last episode). Of course, it's also an hommage to spy stories, spies sure love their saunas, but I don't believe it's only that. Because 1/again, that FadelStyle scene one episode prior. 2/I will not do JoJo Tichakorn Phukhaotong the insult of implying he does not know his gay porn and 3/

they didn't have to touch. They could have exchanged informations and gone their separate ways without touching even once. If they had to touch it could have been a hand on the shoulder or a handshake. (That's what I thought would happen! When we got a glimpse of that scene in the trailer, and I wrote my very first fic for this fandom, I genuinely thought the scene would only be an hommage to spy stories, and that all the potential sleaziness I was seeing there was just, well, me being me. I wrote the fic because I thought the show wouldn't go there!) But instead we got the captain following Kant to a bathhouse, the both of them meeting in a sweat room (something made explicitely sexual in the previous episode), Christ telling Kant he has to "up his game" and to not "tell anyone about this" and then slapping his thigh in a manner very reminiscent of another thigh grab we saw in episode 2, this one definitely sensual.

I'm calling that subtext, and I'd say whoever did the cut for the tv version agreed with me, since they completely removed that damn ashtray. Now, it could simply be a matter of female-presenting-nipples, but I'm willing to bet the thigh grab was also cut (if I'm wrong, feel free to point and laugh). EDIT: @deliriousblue checked, and I was in fact wrong! They kept the thigh slap. I don't think it detracts from my point too much, though, as it doesn't negate anything I said before about sexual subtext/coding. (but If anything, it makes the switch from ashtray close-up to wide office shot stands out even more)

So there's something sexual lurking in the outskirt of Kant & Christ's relationship. It's implied, it's light, but it's there.

I think part of the purpose is just a little playful nod to porn clichés, but I would argue that there's a bit more to it, because Kant and the captain's relationship actually has a very clear sexual component.

Not in that I think they fucked (in canon. i don't think they fucked in canon. i do think it should be explored in fics.), but the plain fact is that Christ is whoring Kant out. It probably didn't start that way, the begining of their partnership was probably more "you have names and contacts and I want them" but how could it stay like that? Once Kant gave all the name he already had, once the captain started to assign him to cases he had no previous contacts with, no point of entry, do we really believe Kant wasn't expected to exploit a sexual angle? I think the people who say Kant didn't have to make Bison fall for him are kidding themselves, and not only because there would be no story if he hadn't. Our societies are far less suspicious of the idea of a stranger suddenly getting close to you because they're hoping for sex than it is of a total stranger getting close to you with hopes of friendship. That's just how it is! You make friends in the circles you already run in, and with the general understanding that real intimacy will be slowly built overtime. Meanwhile a random hookup can have access to your bedroom the very night they met you. There's just no contest: for the kind of missions Kant seems to be sent on, with absolutely no backup or cover story or anything, seduction is pretty much the only trick up his sleeve, especially if the captain presses him for fast results like he did in the show. (not to mention that, on an almost "meta" aspect, the captain chose a young man who's Thai BLs level of conventionally attractive to do his dirty work) The captain may not have said "I need you to have sex with dangerous people", if only to have a layer of legal plausible denial, but he certainly expected it, and even if - a big if - Kant got the idea himself for expediency the first time, Christ kept placing him in situations where he would have to do that again. The captain's a pimp, the currency is intel, and the show said "you don't have to face it if you don't want to, that might be a bit much for a romcom, but we are not shying away from it." Or at least that's where my reading currently lands.

And I do think it's interesting that the two times we were reminded of this aspect of sexual coercion, it was followed first by the KantBison mutual dubcon of episode 3, and second by the captain actually bothering to look physically threatening to Kant for the very first time. Because as you pointed out in the tag under this post, the show plays super interestingly on First Kanaphan's actual height and how often Kant is dwarfed by others, but the captain almost never bothers to use his own considerable height. He sits. He lounges. When he gets up it's never into Kant's space. He can turn his back on him without fear. He doesn't threaten, he reminds. Until Kant himself threatens not just to quit but to bite back and suddenly the confrontation is physical, even though they're not touching. A reminder not just of the consequences, but of their respective place. Then it passes, and here's the nonchalance again: Christ goes back to his ashtray.

And if I may abandon sincere media analysis for just a second and be a little cheeky? Here's a picture of the captain in his sofa, knee slightly parted, Kant coming toward him. And the cigarette I called one of tv's most beloved phallic symbols?

yeah, it's pointing up.

[xtarmanderx]

Double amnesia! Is Abby going be addressed at all again? Or make an appearance? Or maybe a phone call from one of them?

I honestly hadn’t even considered it until you asked this question!! And I’m so glad you did because you gave me an idea to write the section where I’d just started to get stuck. So thank you!

-

Losing memories is without a doubt the worst part of amnesia, but no one else considers how hard it is to learn how to use technology that’s completely foreign to you. Tommy must have been good at this once, but now he’s fumbling through his phone trying to understand how it works. Facial recognition has been a blessing, he’s not sure he’d ever be able to crack a password in his current state, and at least some of the icons are familiar to him. It still takes a couple of minutes to find Abby’s name and then a couple minutes more to build up the courage to call.

It rings twice and then, “Hello?”

“Abby?” Wetness rapidly fills his eyes and his breath stutters out of him.

“Give me just a second.” She tells him. He hears her quietly tell someone she’s moving to the living room, the shuffle and slide of sheets on skin, and then she sighs against his ear. “I was wondering if you were going to call me. Can’t sleep either?” She guesses.

“How did you know?” He rolls onto his back, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“Buck had the same problem. We were texting earlier.”

“You hate texting.” He murmurs.

“I do. I’ve gotten better about it over the years though. So have you.”

“Guess they really can teach old dogs new tricks.” He says, earning a soft laugh from her. His heart clenches in his chest. “I miss you.”

“No you don’t.” There’s no malice in her voice, but he still feels like he’s been struck. “You think you do, but you don’t. Just like Buck doesn’t really miss me either.”

“He’s too genuine to lie about that.” Tommy corrects immediately.

“Yeah, he’s a good one. Good for you,” she tells him. “Why did you really call me, Tommy?”

“Because I don’t know anyone else.” He snaps out. She doesn’t rise to the bait and he exhales slowly. “Sorry. I just…this is too much for me.”

“Tommy-“

“In my head, I just bought a ring for you. I’m committing the rest of my life to you and you’re not here.”

“But you never really loved me, sweetheart. Not the way a man should love a woman if he wants to be with her. You never did.” Her tone is still soft and tears run down his cheeks. “You’re lying to yourself right now and you were back then, too. You told me that you stayed with me because it’s what your father expected of you. You let that man rule your life for so long. Him, your old fire captain, your drill sergeants, you let everyone else dictate how your life was supposed to go. You need to stop listening to those voices, Tommy. They never did you any good.”

Tommy doesn’t say anything for a while. There’s a storm brewing in his chest and he rubs the heel of his palm against it, wishing he could chase it away. Because deep down, he’s always known who he was. He still can’t think the word, terrified of what it means for him, but his future self had obviously accepted it at some point with open arms. And it pisses him off. He thought people only had to fight that kind of battle once, but now he has to do it a second time and how the hell is he supposed to win when he can’t remember doing so the first time? It feels like the odds are stacked against him.

“He scares me,” he admits.

[bellysoupset]

i would adore something along the lines of this

leo thinking jonah's giving him the silent treatment, but quickly finds out Jonah's just not feeling good when Jonah throws up on him

-🎠

(this is my first ask with a sign off- so if this sign off is already taken just let me know)

Hi there! I think this was sent all the way back to the start of december, so I'm sorry about the wait! I hope you enjoy!

-----------------

Leo was proud of himself by how he had handled a nurse flirting with his fiancé. It was a well known thing, by Jonah and everyone else, that Leo was the crazy jealous sort, so the blonde was feeling extremely smug he hadn't given into the urge to bite the nurse's head off and had simply told Jonah to get in the car, throwing the nurse a dirty look so cold it might as well have given her frostbite.

Now, the issue was that Jonah looked upset. Which normally would've made Leo eyeroll, but given the circumstances, it made him feel incredible self conscious of his actions and a little hurt, "don't tell me you were enjoying it," the words were out of his mouth before he could say anything, "I mean, you must have, since you didn't shut that down immediately."

There it was, the crazy showing its ugly head. Leo stole a glance at Jon in the passenger seat and expected to meet a frown, but no, his boyfriend was still firmly looking out of the window.

He chewed on his next words, biting the inside of his cheek and trying to figure out if he should just let Jonah cool off or if Jon was even allowed to be pissed, because seriously? He was the one who let the nurse get all flirty in the first place!

"I wasn't even that mean," Leo opted for saying instead, squeezing the steering wheel and bouncing his leg nervously as they stopped at a red light, five minutes away from their building, "I could've told her she had no chances with that fuckass bob, for example."

He waited for Jon's amused snort, but it didn't come.

Leo pouted, now fully aware his fiancé was angry. That was just great. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, "I don't know why you're angry," Leo grumbled, then the light switched to green. Instead of answering him, Jonah only shuffled on his seat so he was fully facing away from Leo, turning his back at him.

"Wow," the blonde scoffed, just as they turned the corner of their street and he leaned out of his window to type the garage passcode, "silent treatment? Now, I'm getting offended. Because I told off some woman who was getting handsy with you? That's great."

He was itching for a fight, the silent treatment was one of the cruelest things Jonah could do, knowing Leo's mind was easy to spiral into self depreciation. His eyes stung and Leo inhaled sharply as he maneuvered his car into the parking spot right next to Jon's red BMW, "alright. Don't talk with me," he said loudly, opening the door as soon as he turned off the car, body filled with nervous energy, "fuck you too."

The blonde slammed his door shut and all but stomped towards the garage elevators. He expected Jonah to follow, pissed or not, simply because they were headed in the same direction. He expected a reaction as well, Jonah wasn't capable to keep silent treatment going for too long, he was too opinionated and arrogant for that.

Instead, as the elevator arrived with a ding! after Leo pressed the button four times too many, he looked over his shoulder and realized Jon was still inside the car. The elevator's doors opened and Leo hesitated, pacing like a caged animal.

He was furious and hurt by Jonah's behavior, but wasn't he coming up...? Was Jon just planning to sit in the car ignoring him until when...?

"Aren't you coming?" Leo asked loudly, taking two steps towards the car, a tone that he rarely used. He wasn't the type to yell, he was soft spoken and quiet, "Jonah?"

Something settled deep in his stomach, more powerful than the anger and the hurt, concern. Leo let out a long suffering sigh, mentally berating himself for his worry, and walked back to the car, circling it to be on the passenger's side. Jonah was hunched on himself, curled up, and that made Leo's worry spike up a notch.

There was being furious and there was whatever this was. He threw the passenger door open, "Jonah?" Leo squinted at him, trying to understand if his boyfriend was pissed, crying or something worse, like a vertigo episode, "enough is enough, talk to me."

A small noise answered him, like a choked up sob, but before Leo could ask the "are you okay?" already in his mouth, Jon pitched to the side, just in time to vomit out of the car... And spray it all over Leo's lap.

"WHAT THE- Jesus Christ, Jon, you couldn't have said-" Leo interrupted his involuntary response, grabbing his boyfriend by the shoulder as Jonah let out a groan and leaned further out, almost falling off, "oh angel, you're not well..." he let out a sigh, gagging as he felt the vomit wetness sink through his pants.

Jon probably felt Leo jerking with an empty heave, because he let out a pitiful sound, voice all drowsy, "sorry..."

"It's okay," Leo's voice was thick with nausea. He didn't get sympathy sick, but normally his lap didn't get covered in puke either, "it's alright, baby. Can you step out? Is this a vertigo episode?"

"Nuh-" Jonah gagged again, but now Leo was out of the line of fire. He cupped a hand over his boyfriend's forehead to support his head, fully expecting to identify a fever, but Jon was cold and clammy, "head..."

"Your head?" Leo frowned, rubbing his back with his free hand and trying not to think of how wet his lap felt, "do you have a migraine?" he thought of Luke, this looked similar enough, right?

"No-" Jonah pitched forward with a burp, bringing up another splash of vomit, then panted, micro tears running down the corners of his eyes, "fell."

"You fell?" Leo echoed, dumbfounded, "and you didn't say anything?!" his voice went up a notch, only for Jon to let out a pitiful whine and Leo to silently curse at himself, "we shouldn't have left the hospital if you're concussed, baby," he whispered.

"Mi-uuUrp-" He groaned, pressing his forehead to Leo's hand, "mild."

"Great," Leo pouted, feeling a stab of guilt. He had just been berating his mildly concussed boyfriend for the past 20 minutes. Shit, "are you done?"

"Yeah..." He sounded unsure, but Leo assumed this was the best he would get and wrapped an arm around Jonah's back, carefully tilting his hip away, since the last thing he wanted was to trigger his fiancés nausea with his own vomit. There was, probably, a particular circle of hell just for him.

Jonah stumbled as soon as he was upright, pressing a hand to his face and making a disgusted face, "I'm sorry-"

"I yelled at you while you were sick," Leo sighed, moving them slowly away from the disgusting puddle, "I guess I deserved that."

To his surprise his fiancé let out a little chuckle, then nodded, stumbling and almost bringing the two of them down, "maybe just a little."

[kookinglikeachef]

Can you write a reaction for when x reader is horny either ateez or the boyz, it doesn’t matter

Hongjoong:

His patience would be very thin with you. He’s having an off day and demands his space. The problem with giving Hongjoong his space when he’s mad, it turned you on. Not just him still managing to look cute when he’d get angry. It was his tone. Very stern, very cold.

You would prance around him when you knew that you shouldn’t and beg him to touch you and love you.

“Y/N,” he’ll warn with glaring eyes.

He’ll never give you the satisfaction, but you keep trying in hopes that one day Hongjoong would wreak havoc on your body.

Seonghwa:

When I tell you Seonghwa would be a slut for you? FUCKING BELIEVE ME. He will do anything you ask him to do to you. Loves when you’re lounging around in literally no other clothing but one of his tanks, braless. He’s obsessed with your tits. You don’t really have to do much to get his attention but occasionally stretching so that your shirt rides up a bit, just barely covering your cunt between your thighs, he’s putty in your hands.

“Allow me to please you, baby.”

Yunho:

At first he’d pay no mind to you the second you start rubbing against him in a way you thought was subtle, while cuddling. His chin resting on your shoulder, the warmth of his breath is on your neck. You can feel all of him. Bulge pressed between your ass cheeks. And every breath he takes, it presses more into you, caged within his arms. He’ll hug you tighter if your movements persist, just lays there and allows you to grind harder like a bitch in heat.

“Yuyu, please. Why aren’t you doing anything?” You’d whine.

“Just wanted to see if you’d beg me.” He’d murmur and smirk against your ear.

Yeosang:

He’s shocked! This is shocking news!

Something as simple as watching him practice his dances makes your mind run wild and the sweat droplets that slid down his chest did nothing to calm your feral thoughts. Those body rolls? He doesn’t realize the damage he’s causing to you and your poor panties that are probably soaked in arousal. Your legs squeezing together around nothing.

He moves a little slow at taking hints that you’re horny so you have to suck it up and shamelessly tell him.

San:

Not much to be written here. You don’t have to tell him anything. Why? Because he’s always horny, too. 7 days in a week and y’all are fucking for 10. He’ll even pick his favorite Juno positions.

“Have we ever tried this one?”

Mingi:

Mingi always has his hand on your thigh, stroking his fingers against your skin and grabbing your flesh. It’s just something he does for comfort and to know that you’re still there. But you wanted nothing more than to take his hand and shove it in between your thighs where you yearned for him the most.

This leads him to ask you what’s wrong when he notices you just staring where his hand rests. When you tell him, he would reply with the sweetest/most lewd thing you’ve ever heard.

Wooyoung:

He finds it hot and teases you about being horny because he knows how needy you can get. And like I’ve said before, he’ll take his time. Takes his time to give in and give you what you want. Woo also loves to do shit to get you worked up even more.

Taunts you until you’re in a pitiful state. He’d take your hand and place it on his crotch, moving it in circular motion.

“I bet you can’t fit all of me in your mouth. How bad do you wanna find out?”

Jongho:

Jongho’s more surprised than anything. He wanted to kiss you out of the blue because he felt like it, but he didn’t expect you to prolong it the way that you did. Deepening the kiss, opting to straddle him, or the unsteady grinding of your hips. He finds you very cute and amusing.

“What’s gotten into you?” He’ll chuckle, encircling his arms around your waist.

“Just want you.” You’d whimper as his hands slide down from your waist to firmly gripping your butt.

[venustrvck]

DINNER PHONECALL

· · ────── ღ ────── · ·

OLIVER AIKU x F!Reader

wc: 1.1k

tags: SFW, f!reader, hurt/comfort, you and Oliver Aiku are ex lovers with no interest in getting back together because you found other people, lost love, mild mention of toxic relationships, bisexual!Oliver Aiku, he comes out to you — his ex — in a drunken phone call about relationships, can be read as being set in the same verse as Balcony Smoke, you’re not letting Oliver Aiku ruin your dinner (special thanks to @mitsuwuyaa and @saetiate for helping me figure out how to tag this)

A shrill sound interrupts your cooking. Your eyes cut across the kitchen to locate your phone, finding it against the far countertop. You click your tongue and turn the stove knob down, setting the fire low, before delicately covering the pot.

You leave your Nikujaga to simmer as you make your way to your phone, wiping your hands at your apron. When you see the caller I.D. flashing across your screen, you can't help your surprise. You haven't spoken to Aiku for two years, not since you broke up.

You pick up the phone, and swipe green. "Moshi moshi,"

"Hey," Aiku's voice sounds on the other end of the line.

You wait, but he doesn't say anything else. You have a feeling this is going to be a long call. You tuck your phone against your neck, and gingerly make your way back to the pot. A phone conversation with Oliver Aiku will not make you burn your food.

"Hello, Aiku," you respond as you lift the cover to check on your onion wedges and beef. "It's been a while."

"Yeah, it has."

Two years, to be exact.

"Is something up?" You ask, gently stirring. It's about time to add the potatoes in. You grab the smaller pot you'd deposited your cut potatoes in (your bowls are too small) and turn it over the main pot. Silence stretches on the other end of the line. "Aiku, why did you call?"

He can't just be here to hear you cook.

"I'm sorry, I… I don't know. I'll hang up."

"Are you drunk?" You ask, incredulous. Seriously?

There's a faint laugh at the other end of the line, something both fond and sad. It speaks of recognition. "You can still tell?"

"I know you."

It might have been two years, but your time with him… it was precious, and difficult, and you know him. You will always know him. From his cocksure smile to the minute shifts in his tone when he's drunk, or sad, or angry — all the things he likes to lock up under his tongue.

On the other end of the line, Aiku agrees with you, "Better than most."

"So why did you call?" If he's going to call you at — you check the time — 7pm and interrupt your dinner preparations, two years later, then the least he can do is explain himself.

"Back then," you assume he means when you were together, "Why did you put up with me for so long?"

You drop an Otoshibuta in the pot and leave it to simmer. "Did you break another girl's heart?" You ask, heaving yourself up onto a stool. Finally, you get your hands on your phone.

"Maybe," his voice is sullen and sad, you can just picture his downcast eyes as if it'd been no time at all. Last you saw, his bangs were still long enough to cover them the way he liked when he got like that.

"Aiku, I didn't 'put up' with you, I made a choice and followed through."

You hear harsh laughter, "it can't have been easy."

"It wasn't," you admit, easily. And is he really going to make you have a serious conversation on a kitchen stool in front of your cooking dinner?

You sigh, and it comes out fond despite yourself. Gentling your tone, you say, "Aiku," you used to call him Oliver, once, "We didn't know how to love each other. I hurt you just to prove to myself that you cared, and you hurt me to see the same. It was exhausting, so I ended it, but it wasn't your fault."

It was both of yours. You weren't good to each other.

"I just," he cuts himself off, abrupt. The words are frustrated. A moment of silence passes, and he calls your name sweetly, pleading.

There's still a wealth of trust and affection between you. The kind borne of two people similarly beaten finding solace in one another. Whether you love each other or not, that will never fade, no matter the march of time. It's just, back then, love hadn't been enough to make up for how messed up you both were, and how you'd messed each other up in return.

"Do you love her?"

"Him," he corrects, and that's new.

"Congratulations," you say, first, because that's always the priority and you do not want him… feeling rejected. A funny sentiment to harbor about your ex. "What's the issue?"

"I'm scared." There's shuffling on the other end of the line, maybe he was changing positions? "What if I hurt him? He's too — I can't do that again."

"Do you think you will?"

"I don't know," he admits, "I don't want to find out."

You hum. Lifting the Otoshibuta, you drop the greens into the pot, then the Otoshibuta again. You let the last of your stew simmer.

"Listen, Aiku," you begin, shuffling into a more comfortable position on the stool, "You're going to have to trust yourself and take that leap. I was scared too, I didn't think I knew how to love people right, or that I ever could. Then I met… it's not important. I let myself love, even when I was scared and hesitant, I let myself love and cherish. Carefully, at first, and I won't say it's easy, but the most difficult part? It's not refraining from hurting them, it's trusting yourself enough to let the relationship grow. I learned and I gained confidence, and we're happy. We don't hurt each other."

You pause, a bit embarrassed by your speech, but you barrel on, "Us — it was messed up, and I'm sorry for all the ways we hurt reach other, but we're not destined to repeat that cycle. We can choose not to hurt the people we love. And you're — as messed up as it all was, you're the first man I let touch me, and I don't regret that. I don't regret you. I think you'll be fine."

Aiku had always been the one who was more adept at loving between the two of you, all thoughtful and considerate. Maybe he didn't express it all in the right ways, back then, but you'd always thought he was the one who expressed it better. You hadn't expected him to be the one who found it harder to move on. Then again, he'd always taken on responsibility too easily, worn like a cloak around his shoulders. Perhaps you shouldn't be surprised that he'd taken it harder than you did.

His voice is contemplative when he says, "If you say it like that, it must be true." You wonder what he'd been hearing in your voice. "Thank you."

The gratitude is sincere, and you instinctively know that it's for more than just this conversation. It's for picking up the phone, with two years behind you, and taking him seriously.

"No thanks between us," you repeat, a phrase from a bygone era.

He laughs, "I suppose not."

The line clicks. You let your dinner cool.

[kathlare]

a moment of clarity

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Lando sits down for a therapy session in Monte Carlo, grappling with unresolved feelings about his past and the choices that continue to affect him.

Wordcount: 1.7 k

Warnings: none

full masterlist // request over here!

October 14th, 2023 - Monte Carlo, Monaco

Lando Norris sat in the familiar leather armchair across from his therapist, Dr. Moreau, in the softly lit office overlooking the Monte Carlo marina. Therapy wasn’t something he talked about often, and he wasn’t sure he ever would. But this room had become a safe haven—a place where the noise of the world faded away, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

Today, those thoughts were particularly loud.

Dr. Moreau sat with her usual calm demeanor, a notebook balanced on her lap. She always gave him space to speak when he was ready, and Lando appreciated that. For a moment, he simply stared at the floor-to-ceiling windows, watching the sunlight dance on the water.

—So, Lando,— she began gently, breaking the silence. —What’s on your mind today?—

Lando sighed, leaning back in the chair and running a hand through his hair. —Amelie,— he admitted, the word coming out heavier than he expected.

Dr. Moreau nodded slightly, her expression neutral but attentive. —You’ve mentioned her before. Tell me what’s been coming up for you.—

He hesitated, trying to find the right words. Talking about Amelie always felt like walking a tightrope between nostalgia and regret. —I can’t stop thinking about her lately. It’s like... she’s in my head all the time, and I don’t know why now, of all times. I mean, we haven’t even talked since Bahrain, and that was...— He trailed off, counting back. —Six months ago? And it wasn’t exactly a friendly chat.—

Dr. Moreau tilted her head slightly. —What happened in Bahrain?—

Lando let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. —It was a mess. I tried to talk to her, and it just... blew up in my face. She told me she was disappointed in me, that I didn’t fight for us back then. She said she loved me.— His voice faltered at the memory, and he looked away, biting the inside of his cheek. —I didn’t know what to say. It caught me so off guard, and I guess... I didn’t handle it well.—

—What do you mean by 'didn’t handle it well'?—

He sighed, his knee bouncing restlessly. —I got defensive. Told her she was the one who ignored me, who pushed me away. I was so angry, at her, at myself, because deep down, I knew she was right. I didn’t fight for her. I just... let her go. And now, I can’t stop thinking about what could’ve been if I had been better back then.—

Dr. Moreau nodded thoughtfully, giving him a moment before speaking. —It sounds like there’s a lot of unresolved feelings there. Have you thought about why Amelie’s been on your mind so much recently?—

Lando leaned forward, elbows on his knees, rubbing his hands together. —Maybe it’s because I found out she and Rodrigo broke up. I didn’t even know until a few months ago. It’s not like I was happy about it... well, okay, part of me was, but not in a shitty way. I just... it made me realize I still care about her. A lot. And then I started wondering if I should try again, you know? If it’s even worth trying to fix things after everything.—

Dr. Moreau’s gaze softened. —Why do you think it might not be worth it?—

He let out a frustrated sigh. —Because I messed it up so badly the first time. Because I’ve been a coward, hiding behind distractions like... well, you know. Magui, parties, anything to avoid feeling like shit about how things ended with Amelie. She deserves better than that. Better than me, probably.—

Dr. Moreau leaned forward slightly, her tone steady but firm. —You’ve said that about yourself before, that Amelie deserves better than you. Why do you believe that?—

Lando paused, staring at the floor. —Because I’m selfish. Back then, I was so caught up in my career, my schedule, my own insecurities. I let her slip away because it was easier than dealing with how hard it was to be apart all the time. And now, even though I’ve grown up a bit, I still wonder if I’m capable of giving her what she needs.—

Dr. Moreau was quiet for a moment, letting his words hang in the air. —It sounds like you’ve done a lot of reflecting, Lando. You’re acknowledging where you fell short, and that’s an important step. But what I’m hearing is a lot of guilt—and guilt alone isn’t a reason to stay away from someone. What do you feel when you think about Amelie now?—

He looked up, his throat tightening as he considered the question. —I feel... like I miss her. Not just because she’s beautiful or funny or because we had great chemistry. I miss her as a person. The way she gets me to open up without even trying, the way she makes me feel grounded even when everything else is chaotic. She’s always been... different. Special.—

—Do you want her back in your life?—

Lando’s chest tightened at the question. It was so simple, yet it felt like it carried the weight of every moment they’d shared and every mistake he’d made. He leaned back in the chair, staring at the ceiling for a long moment before finally answering.

—Yeah. I do. I want her back in my life. But not just as some fling or... I don’t know, something half-hearted. If I’m going to do this, I want to do it properly. I want to show her I’ve changed, that I can actually deserve a second chance with her.—

Dr. Moreau nodded, her expression kind but thoughtful. —That’s a big realization, Lando. It sounds like you’re recognizing not just what you want, but the kind of effort and commitment it will take to make it happen. Do you feel ready to take that step?—

He hesitated, his hands clasped tightly together. —That’s the thing, isn’t it? I don’t know if I’m ready. I don’t even know if she’d want to hear from me. After Bahrain... she made it pretty clear she didn’t want me in her life anymore. And honestly, I don’t blame her.—

—What makes you think she wouldn’t want to hear from you now?— Dr. Moreau asked gently.

—Because I hurt her. I let her down when it mattered most, and even if I’m ready to make things right, that doesn’t erase the damage I did back then. She’s moved on. What if she’s better off without me?—

Dr. Moreau gave him a moment to process his own words before responding. —It’s possible that Amelie has moved on, or that she’s in a place where she doesn’t want to revisit the past. But that’s not something you can control, Lando. What you can control is how honest you are with her, and with yourself. If you truly want a second chance, it starts with being vulnerable enough to tell her how you feel, regardless of the outcome.—

Lando rubbed his face, the weight of her words settling over him. —It’s just... terrifying. What if I put myself out there and it doesn’t mean anything to her? What if I ruin whatever’s left of what we had?—

—Or,— Dr. Moreau said softly, —what if it does mean something to her? What if this is the first step toward rebuilding the connection you’ve both been missing? You won’t know unless you try, Lando. And from everything you’ve told me, it sounds like Amelie was someone who valued honesty and effort. If nothing else, being open with her might bring you the closure, or the new beginning, you’re looking for.—

He nodded slowly, the words sinking in. Deep down, he knew she was right. If he didn’t take the chance, he’d always wonder what could’ve been. And maybe he had changed enough to deserve that chance, to show Amelie that he wasn’t the same person who let her slip away.

—Okay,— he said finally, his voice steadier than he felt. —I’ll do it. I don’t know how or when, but I’ll reach out to her. I owe her that much, at least.—

Dr. Moreau smiled gently. —That’s a brave decision, Lando. It won’t be easy, but taking responsibility for your actions and being honest about your feelings is a big step forward. And remember, this isn’t about proving yourself to her, it’s about showing up as the person you want to be, for her and for yourself.—

Lando nodded again, a small flicker of determination starting to replace the uncertainty. —I just... I want to make it right. Whatever that looks like. I don’t want to screw this up again.—

—And that mindset is exactly why you’re ready to try again. You’re not the same person you were back then, Lando. Give yourself credit for that.—

For the first time in what felt like months, Lando allowed himself a sliver of hope. He left the session feeling lighter, his mind clearer. As he walked out of the office and into the bright Monaco sun, he pulled out his phone, scrolling through his contacts until he landed on her name.

Amelie.

He didn’t call or text her—at least not yet. But for the first time, he felt ready to take the first step. Whatever happened next, he knew he couldn’t keep hiding from the truth.

It was time to fight for her, the way he should have from the beginning.

-------------

liked by ln4nation, papayagirl, and others

ln4updates: Lando was spotted in Monaco today

View all 217 comments

lovenorris07: WE GET A WHOLE MONTH WITHOUT MAGUI??? Lando, please keep it up 😭💖 → lanfan_42: @lovenorris07 right?! A month of peace, LET'S GO 🔥🔥

imlovedwithlan: BRO, WHY DOES HE LOOK SO CUTE JUST WALKING AROUND MONACO? 😩

lano_baby: He’s literally so cute, I’m crying like why do I feel like his ex right now 💀😭 → norrisfanatic: @lano_baby YOU'RE NOT ALONE, I feel the pain too 😔💔

stella_vibes: Wait... Lando out here looking THIS good while Amelie is playing hard to get?? 😩 COME ON, Ames, give him a chance already!! 😭 → racebabe69: @stella_vibes They need to get back to their vibe! Pls the friendship, the FLIRTING, I miss it 😭😭

cutie_lando: Sooo Amelie and Lando are both single now?? Things just got interesting 😏 → f1_feverrr: @cutie_lando right?! It's like the universe is telling them to get it together already!!

sophiemay_27: Wait, is this the longest we’ve gone without Magui?? 👀

[chaoticpuff17]

Jealousy

another part to my previous drabble "Treat Me So Well"

You fiddled with the necklaces hanging just above your chest as you sat next to Hoseok in the car. He was on a work call, and you never paid much attention to those. Hoseok’s business was his own, and it would do you no good to get mixed up in it. Your job for the evening was to keep him company and to look pretty on his arm. That was what he paid you for. Besides, the less you actually knew about what he did the better. You were fully aware that what he did wasn’t strictly legal, not that he was your only client that dabbled in less than legal activities, but a good portion of your job was discretion. No one would choose to be added to your client list if you weren’t discrete, and Jackson would have long let you go if you weren’t up to the task.

You glanced over as Hoseok’s tone grew more agitated, the look in his eye not boding well for whoever was on the other end of the line. Hoseok was intimidating at the best of times and downright frightening when he got like this.

You gently reached up and took the hand that was wildly gesticulating, bringing it down to your lap as Hoseok glanced at you curiously but allowed you to intertwine your fingers regardless.

While your one hand was grasped in his, the other continued to play with your necklaces.

All of a sudden, Hoseok’s voice stopped in the background.

“I’ll have to call you back.” you glanced back over to see what the matter was only to find Hoseok staring intently at your chest, his jaw clenched. “What is that?”

You looked down in confusion. “What is what?”

“That!” he motioned at her necklaces. “Where did you get those?”

You picked up the chains trying to find something wrong with them but couldn’t find anything. It was a pair of simple matching necklaces, both dainty and in gold. One had a rolo chain and the other a link chain, but they both had the same type of green stone hanging from the end as a charm. Overall they were simple and pretty, and you thought they complimented your outfit well. The problem, you assumed, was where they came from.

Neither was a gift from Hoseok, and you hadn’t purchased them. They had previously belonged to Taehyung, one of your other clients. You had taken them as yours, much to Taehyung’s amusement, because you found them pretty, and he hadn’t objected. When you’d been getting ready for your evening with Hoseok, you hadn’t even thought about their origins when you’d put them on.

“Why, Hobi, you don’t think you’re the only man who gives me pretty things do you?” you purred, trying to diffuse the situation as best you could.

Hoseok un-linked your hands, looping a finger through the longer of the two chains and pulling so you were forced forward- closer to him.

“Of course not, pet.” you didn’t like the thinly veiled hostility in his eyes, nor did you like the careful control in his tone. “But I didn’t expect you to go around accepting jewelry from my rivals.”

You felt a wave of nausea pass over you at the revelation. Perhaps you should have payed closer attention to Hoseok’s business after all.

You pasted on a smile, trying to keep your composure, and leaned in even further. “I can’t remember who gave me every piece of jewelry I own.”

Hoseok unhooked his finger from the necklace, instead choosing to wrap his long fingers around the column of your throat, putting a little pressure on the edges of your jaw to push up your chin so that you were looking him right in the eye.

“I make it a point not to meddle in your business, pet, and you do a very good job of not meddling in mine.” The threat wasn’t spoken, but it was there none the less.

“You pay for discretion, so does he. Don’t go getting jealous on me now.”

Hoseok smiled, though his eyes remained cold.

“Hoshi!” he called to the man driving the car. “Turn the car around. We’re going home.”

“What about dinner?”

“Fuck dinner.”

[rimqueen]

I know you said you aren’t the biggest fan of fluff (besides domestic) especially regarding Jimmy (I assume) but this is Jimmy being largely depressing and ruining his own life, despite your best intentions. Warning (I guess) for him crashing out (but I try to keep things not super detailed).

He doesn’t understand why someone so nice would put up with him. Not even in the way that Curly puts up with him, because you’ll actually say something back sometimes in this warning tone that makes him nervous inside, even if he wouldn’t ever admit it.

Jimmy may or may not have a thing for incest fantasies, but you’re *too close* for him to even really picture you that way. Something over a friend, over a sister, over a girlfriend. He’d seen you topless “on accident” before, but his cock barely even twitched, which confused the fuck out of him. You certainly aren’t ugly, that’s for sure, he doesn’t hang around women he finds ugly.

He doesn’t know what to think of you half of the time, besides the fact that he likes you deep down, even when he acts like a cunt sometimes. He tries to tamper it down a little around you because you really do think he can be better, even when he inevitably (metaphorically) shits the bed again and you have to come clean up the mess. It’s like you somehow see something in him that even he himself can’t see. And it’s not like you’re stupid, you’re not like one of the (many) trashy bimbos he’d date for a couple months before he had a cataclysmic breakup with her. You don’t act like he’s perfect, you know he isn’t, but you still put in effort with him.

So when he gets plastered and you let him crash at your place, because he doesn’t want to walk all the way to his apartment or Curly’s, it’s a quiet and shameful “thanks” in the morning. Maybe he makes coffee before you wake up because he feels guilty for being such a burden to you, which you never once say he is, but he feels like he is. Every reassuring smile, every blanket tucked over him at 1AM, it makes him feel inadequate. Like he’s using you, somehow, this time is different though because he doesn’t *want* to use you. He wishes he could somehow make up for everything he’s ever done, every snide comment, but he thinks to himself that nothing he could ever do would make up for him being himself.

When Jimmy really fucks up, really breaks your heart in a way that even *you* can barely find the words to say something to him — everything comes crashing down. He’s fucked up the one, good and true thing he’s had in his life, and no amount of drinking ‘til the morning, stubbing cigarettes out on his arm, or wishing he was dead is going to make him feel any better about it. He can’t convince himself that you were just some stupid girl, someone who saw the best in everyone, because he had seen you look down on people before. But never him. Nothing has ever hurt so badly before, not when his mother called him all of those awful names, not when he was beat for no good reason at all. He doesn’t understand why it feels like his whole chest has collapsed, why everything is hollow and aching all at once. Maybe he does know why, but he won’t accept it, won’t admit it. Won’t say the word.

You might try to reach out through Curly, months later. Of course you would. You’re too good, you know him too well, you know he’d crash out on himself. Jimmy makes sure that Curly doesn’t tell you anything. Makes sure that you don’t have the faintest idea how he’s doing, how miserable he is now that you’re gone. He doesn’t want to take up your time again, when you could be giving it to someone worthy.

- ☎️

— Written with personal experience, this feeling is awful. Then again I’m the anon who wrote “you rotting with Jimmy while you’re both depressed” so I guess this can’t be too surprising. Putting my favorite fictional men and making them severely emotionally distressed is just my thing or whatever ฅ(ᵔ꒳ ᵔマ.ᐟ

I REALLY LIKE THIS!!! I also think jimmy would react irrationally when someone displays genuine love towards him he likes it but also hates it and doesn’t know how to react so he acts out like a toddler… like he doesn’t get why u would stay w him!!

and omg I love incest fantasies so bad… I think he has such awful mommy and daddy issues.. and mainly mommy ones I think he looks for a mommy in every lady unknowingly esp when she is so very willing to get stern with him and clean up after him and do things his mom never did for him ugh.. but yah.. just jimmy fucking up everything good in his life so very real.. idk I just think he gets so in his head ab it,, like he’s simultaneously a narc who’s like but can she even keep up with me is she even good enough for me but also so self loathing ughh selfserving and self loathing I love him

[immobiliter]

know that i always want to write new things with flint, but a) he is a tricky muse to write with if there's no plotting or discussion beforehand ( on the fly stuff just doesn't work with him, trust me, i've tried ) and b) in addition to being a big fan of his character, i am also the number 1 flint hater lmao

[nezuscribe]

arguing with arranged!gojo is difficult because he’s not used to arguing with women and you’re not used to arguing period.

it rarely happens, but when it does it gets really heated between the two of you. you pace around your room, huffing as gojo stands there with his arms crossed, nose flaring.

like that one time he found out that one of the new guards the brought in from the west was somebody you used to fool around with.

yeah that was bad.

“why do you even care!” you snap at him, and he can’t find a plausible reason aside from the fact that he was purely jealous.

this guard that they’d brought in from the west, much to your shock, was somebody you used to see in the late hours of the night. you never did anything frisky, just some shared kisses here and there.

but the moment you saw him, your whole demeanor changed. and gojo could tell. it took a bit of picking and prodding (which gojo is great at) but you eventually told him the story.

and he was not excited to hear it.

“i want him gone,” he tells you and you roll your eyes, shrugging indefinitely.

“fine,” you throw your arms up, “get him out. but what about those girls? you think i don’t want them gone whenever we walk into one of those balls or those dinners? when i see the way they look at you? you think that’s easy for me?”

“it’s different,” his tone is unwavering and cold.

you scoff, shaking your head in dismay.

“what? what’s so different? that i kissed him? big deal!” you feel like you want to cry and yell and jump and scream at the same time.

because it was different. for you. because the men didn’t seem to care that gojo had a new wife, or that he cared for her. but the ladies did. they gossiped in frenzied tones, batted their eyelashes at him even more as if that could cast him away from your spell.

so you didn’t know why he cared so much about this one man. why it should matter to him when he’s had far, far more experiences than you.

you felt hurt that he doubted you, angered with his hypocrisy, and tired from spending the entire day ignoring each other.

“this is going nowhere,” you mutter eventually, picking up your pillow as his eyes drop to your hands, “i’m sleeping somewhere else.”

“what-”

“and don’t follow me,” you bite out, not even glancing behind your shoulder as you begin to sulk out of your shared bedroom to your old one all across the estate.

and sure, maybe you’re not being entirely fair. there’s been some petty arguments when he bumps into one of his old girls, but it didn’t hurt nonetheless when he accused you of lying, when the conversation of your old romantic life was just never brought up.

you wipe at the stray tears on your cheek as you slug down the stairs, sniffling to yourself as you curse your husband to hell and back, when a force unlike any other picks you up from behind.

“what?” you squeal, your body manicured over a strong shoulder, your legs near his torso, your eyes facing his back as you kick at him, “let me go, i’m going to fall!”

“don’t make me laugh,” gojo murmured, one strong arm around your waist, the other around your thighs as he hauls you back up the stairs.

“i told you not to follow me,” you grumble, pinching his back but he doesn’t react.

“you’re funny if you think i’ll let you sleep alone.”

your brows furrow, feeling the need to kick him, but also not wanting him to drop you.

it doesn’t take long for him to reach your bedroom, opening the door with his free hand (unbridled strength if the greatest warrior of the north meant he could pick you up with just one hand) and plops you back on the mattress.

you prop yourself up on your elbows, looking away, hoping he can’t see the tear marks.

because it did hurt. his words hurt you. they cut deep. and he notices, his gaze softening slightly.

“don’t cry,” he whispers, leaning down to trace your tears away but you swat his hand off of your face.

“then don’t make me cry,” you say with a heavy sigh, siting upwards, back slightly hunched.

you take a deep breath, rubbing at your eyes as you glance upwards at him. it’s been a while since the two of you had fought, and the first time over something serious, and he looks awful.

“i don’t judge you for being with those girls,” you start with a heavy whisper, “you did what you could to stay sane. but don’t judge me for doing the same.”

gojo breathes deeply through his nose, blinking.

“you’re right,” he says after a heavy second, causing you too look up in confusion.

he nods again, his big hand cup your jaw, his thumb rubbing your cheek as he catches the stray tear from the corner of your eye.

“you’re right and i’m sorry,” he repeats, and you’ve never had somebody agree with you before, “i just…saw the way he looks at you and…i didn’t like it.”

you offer him a small nod.

“but he just looked at me,” you shift so that your resting on your haunches, hands in your lap. he towers over you, one hand going to cradle the back of your head.

gojo shrugs, like he can’t put it into comprehensible words how he felt when that guard looked at you with hunger in his eyes. how only he was allowed to look at you with such starvation.

“i didn’t like it,” he can only repeat, and you know he struggles with his emotions, spent years hiding them so that they wouldn’t become his weakness.

“do you want to sleep?” he finally asks you, and you slowly blink, trying to hide the tiredness from your face.

“i’ll still be here when you wake up,” he offers and you crack a small smile, trying to hide it from him.

but your smile drops as you think, eyes darting up to his.

“it’s okay to not like something, and it’s okay to feel angry that you don’t. but don’t ever, ever, make me feel like that again because of it.”

your stare is unwavering, and he feels a certain sense of pride in seeing that. and gojo nods, one steady movement as he drops down to his knees, trying to be level with your gaze.

“you have my full authority to strike me down if i do,” he promises, his hands cupping your face, his words serious but you can’t help but giggle.

“good,” you murmur, tugging slightly harshly on some of the strands of his hair as he winces, pushing you back onto the bed with the sheer force of his body, climbing up into you as he hold you close to him.

you let out another laugh as he acts like a bear cub, not wanting to move an inch away from your warmth as he cuddles into you, trying to finish his massive size compared to you.

the two of you laid in silence, a comfortable one, as he laid his head in your chest, hearing the steady rhythm of your heart.

“i am sorry,” he whispers, craning his neck to look up at you as he rests his chin on your sternum, “i’m sorry.” he says again, his words barely above a sound.

you blink again, moving some of the hair away from his face as you observe his sorrowful features.

“i know,” you whisper back.

gojo finds your hands, interweaving your fingers together, heart tugging when he feels your ring against his skin.

he brings the finger to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against the ring as you watch him silently. no other words needed to be said, no words left unspoken as he pulls you into his chest.

because no woman would amount to a sliver of you. and no man would amount to a morsel of him.