#anyway after the tag about d&s I was going to say that's normalized but the *discussion* of it isn't. the boundries. the understanding that | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

azullumi · 2 years ago

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okay okay— hear me out, what about streamer kaveh dating popular streamer s/o in secret and the only reason they get found out is cause of kaveh forgetting to turn off his camera and they're acting all lovey dovey on stream LOL i can't help but think how he'd explain to a chat that's moving so fast

summary — kaveh is way too loving and... careless.

pairing — kaveh/gender-neutral reader

tags — fluff, modern, established relationship, steamer x streamer, not proofread ; headcanons

words — 1520

note — my alarm didn't wake me up;;; but anyways, i really loved the request anon :D i had so much fun writing it though i guess it was a little bit rush and i could have done better. but anyways, here! i hope you'll like it!

"Bye, everyone! I hope you all had a great time! Thanks for stopping by and I'll see you all next time."

You enthusiastically waved at the camera, smiling as your eyes scanned the chat that was going too fast, trying to read all of the messages that were being sent. Your eyes could only recognize the word "goodbye" in different variations being commonly sent and after a few moments, you stopped the stream—closing the camera and taking off your headphones before you stood up and stretched your back that was aching after only remaining seated for so long.

It was yet another normal day for you, streaming on a platform or website for hours as you were a well-known streamer and content creator, a lot of people's favorites and especially famous on the internet.

"I'm a little bit hungry," Perhaps it was because you only ate a few since you really couldn't leave your seat and that it was nearly dinnertime also; it was already 6:47 in the evening.

Although the work can be exhausting and repetitive at times, you were having fun and clearly enjoying what you were doing—aside from the fact that you get to earn a lot of money to sustain yourself, your needs and your wants, you were also greatly loved and cherished by your fans and most especially, by your boyfriend, Kaveh.

You decided to check up on him, walking out of your room to head to his that was only steps away from yours since you're under the same roof. As you approached and near his door, his voice and chatter was getting more and more clearer and louder, you could even make out some of what he was saying.

"...Are you…"

"I have… Lovely…"

"Show them? I don't want to. Why? They're way too beautiful for your eyes."

"Just say that you're lying and you don't actually have… Hey! I swear, I'm not lying—" He paused once his eyes glanced at the door, in the direction of where you were standing. You noticed how his eyes sparkled and his expression brightened once he saw you, making you smile and your heart flutter upon seeing the small yet noticeable change.

Are you okay?—you mouthed and gestured to him, avoiding to be heard by his audience as he was streaming live as of the moment. A nod before he spoke in a low voice, "I'll be finished in a moment, wait for me."

You could only give him a thumbs up and a smile before you leaned against the wall, watching him as he calls it a day, finishing his stream and saying goodbye to everyone. You approached him—once you concluded that he's already done with it as he took off his headphones—having no restrictions or worries that you might be seen by anyone.

"How are you, sweetheart? Did you miss me?" The blonde-haired man greets you, pulling you to his lap and pushing the strands of hair on your face behind your ear. He gave your forehead a kiss that made you melt in the hold of his hand on your waist and the caress of the other on your cheek and you let out a hum before responding: "I'm good but I missed you."

It was known that the two of you have a significant other but nobody knows who it is nor you were one another's lover, the only known fact is that both of you are in a loving and healthy relationship. There was no reason—aside from just privacy reasons to avoid nosy people sticking their ass up in your businesses—for you two to be hiding it but I guess you could say that it was the better?

"Archons, it's only been a few hours—" He laughs, looking at you with eyes beaming with adoration, love, and care as if his gaze was touching on your soul, and he places yet another kiss on your temple before continuing, "—You're so needy. What even will happen if we won't see each other for a day?"

You couldn't help but roll your eyes upon hearing what he said and another soft chuckle was pulled out of his throat. "I was kidding, okay? I'm sorry, don't be angry at me."

He sounds like a puppy who got scolded by his owner and if it's not for the teasing smile on his face, you would have thought of him as one already.

"Whatever. What's for dinner today?"

"Hm, are you craving for something?"

You went into a quick thought, "I have nothing in mind. Should we just order takeout?"

"If that's what you want, sure. Let's just rest up a bit before we order, I know that you're still tired."

You only nodded as an answer, resting your head on his shoulder as you closed your eyes which had been strained and hurt after only being exposed to the computer for hours. The moment between you two was silent with only the sound of your light breathing against one another and a sigh that slips from his lips—a smile tugged on the corners of your mouth as the feeling of warmth, comfort, and happiness wells up in your chest.

You flutter your eyelids open, your eyesight adjusting to the brightness of the computer screen, seeing yourself on it and some rapid stream of texts—Wait.

"Kaveh…"

"Kaveh."

"Kaveh!"

It is only when you whisper shouted his name that he responded to you, confusion trailing his tone as he knits his eyebrows.

"What? What is—"

His voice came at a complete halt when he also turned his head to the sight of his monitor, seeing what made you urgently call out to him in such a panicked voice.

The camera was turned on and you could see the projection of you two on the screen being lovey-dovey and sweet to another, and a spam of messages on the side—blood rushed up to your face, embarrassed and feeling shy, and you hide yourself with the man's chest as you listened to him frantically trying to explain, if you even call what he's doing as that.

"At least now we have proof that you really have someone—You're quite a positive person, aren't you?"

"I can't read any of the chats! Slow down, will you?"

"It's (Name)? Yes, it's them, do you have a problem with it?"

"Congratulations on your relationship, I hope that the two of you will have more happiness to come—Awww, thank you so much user LetMeCryInTheCorner!"

"Wait—fuck—How do I even explain it to you guys?"

"You don't have to explain everything when we've already seen how sweet you two are—Ah, whatever then! I'll see you guys next time. Go to sleep, pay attention to your homework, or anything!"

It seems like he has totally given up on it as he just stopped the stream and turned off the camera completely—this time he was sure that he really did—before bringing his attention back to you who has calmed down for a bit from what you feel, bringing yourself back to the grounds of reality.

"Now what?"

"What do you mean now what? We're going to order some food." He says as if everything was normal and nothing happened which induced a reaction to smack him from you.

"Ouch! What was that for?!"

"You're too careless and calm!"

He received a glare from you and he laughed—softly and gently like he was soothing your worries and scrambled thoughts, reassuring you that everything is fine and there is nothing to worry about—it''s honestly strange how he's so collected right now knowing how he often panics and thinks over the small things but I guess it didn't really matter, the publicity of your relationship with him, I mean. It's not like the two of you made a pact to keep it a secret.

You just heaved a sigh, releasing the unnecessary things that plagues your mind, "Well, now they know."

"And? Just let them know."

He leans his face close to you, lips only inches away from each other that you could feel his warm breath fanning your skin, and spoke before capturing you in a loving kiss:

"Let them know that I belong to you."

—

Bonus:

"Wow, they're rejoicing for me because it turns out that I wasn't lying after all."

Kaveh rolled his eyes when he saw the reaction of everyone on social media upon knowing you and his relationship with each other. The internet was bombarded with news about you two dating, a lot of questions being raised, and everything—It was all and only about him and you.

He places his phone down the bedside table before returning his gaze back to your sleeping figure turned to him, watching your relaxed and soft expression, and he sighs to himself, scooting closer to you and wrapping his arm around your waist.

It didn't matter anyways. He just loves you so much and as long as nothing will interfere and get in the way of your happiness, as long as you're okay and happy, as long as he gets to hold you close, then everything is fine.

#yae publishing house #kaveh genshin #kaveh #kaveh x reader #kaveh x you #kaveh fluff #kaveh imagines #genshin impact fanfics #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin #genshin fluff #genshin x you #genshin imagines #genshin headcanons #kaveh headcanons #azul.writes

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11x13kyle · 1 year ago

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stylegate

stan and kyle have been together for what at this point is probably like 2500000 years, but their relationship was pretty private because stan was in the closet for a while

when stan comes out, it’s another 4-6 months before his relationship with kyle is made public (passive voice because it was NOT by choice)

there’s a lot of relationship speculation, but kyle is really NOT one of the people that is suspected, aside from a couple of reddit posts with like 2 upvotes that say shit like “my money’s on kyle from fireside chats pod”

most of the replies to this are like “dude what the fuck are you talking about. just because they’re from the same place and the same age like next you’re gonna say craig tucker is the secret boyfriend. get real.”

there are anon submissions on deuxmoi about stan

some directly allude to kyle, others are bullshit

prior to being publicly in a relationship, stan and kyle are out to their friends and family on personal accounts but not in the public eye. stan’s socials are mostly business anyway, and kyle’s socials are mostly discourse and drama and bullshit. he mentions having a boyfriend but is very vague about it

that said, they are seen spending time together but its seen more as them running in the same circles rather than them being close (god forbid CLOSE)

*callout post voice* hey can you tag your c/r/i/m/s/o/n d/a/w/n posts???? their lead singer has literally been seen spending time with the f1r3s1d3 guys so he probably shares in their reactionary viewpoints and that makes me uncomfy ://

kyle and cartman occasionally mention an elusive friend named stan and give barely any details about him so people think stan is just some dude that they know irl and not lead singer of hit band crimson dawn

and no one’s gonna think it’s him because stan’s cd persona is just so normal that no one is going to connect the dots and go “oh this batshit insane person from their stories is the same person who is relatively regular on stage!”

there is minor speculation because they did grow up in the same area and are the same age but people enjoy their delusions and cognitive dissonance

speculation is still mostly redditors that get barely any interactions

slightly before the outing butters casually refers to stan as kyle’s boyfriend but people just think he’s being homophobic

this is after stan comes out so people think he’s mocking stan for his sexuality --> butters homophobia allegations, cancellation #832349038 for him. just another tuesday

cartman addresses this on fireside by saying something along the lines of: look, i know butters, and i can confirm that YES, butters knows exactly what he’s doing. he hates gays, he thinks stan is a dumb fag, and he is violently homophobic, and--

people love to ask craig and those guys about it on their podcast but they never answer anything because fireside is the enemy and they actively dislike them

craig answers exactly once with the response: “who the fuck are kyle and eric?” and that’s it

on a personal level, kyle is cool with tolkien and jimmy, but they all collectively despise cartman, so fireside as a pod is not a friend

stan and kyle’s relationship is eventually outed because butters accidentally lets it slip like for REAL on his show and shit hits the fan

“Who is Stan Marsh’s Boyfriend and Why Should You Be Concerned?”

after stan and kyle are publicly an item stan goes on the pod a couple of times, but not until the initial outrage dies down

when he comes on the show it’s treated as a Very Special Episode. kenny guest stars so that he can help cartman to terrorize stan and interrogate him with wildly personal questions

stan fucks around with his answers

“who tops?” “..........we’re both virgins?”

this answer leads to cartman and kenny taking 10 minutes to debate the reality of this assertion

kenny asks if they know about the camera that cartman has set up in their bedroom

cartman has seriously considered putting a cam in kyle’s room so he doesn’t laugh as hard at that as one would think

kyle is so fucking angry. he’s making a pissed off buzzing sound the whole time

at some point, i don’t know when, stan definitely pulls out his cartman impression

#microceleb au #suggestive

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antimony-medusa · 1 year ago

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sorry if this is a dumb question but what would you say even qualifies something as kink? i get the whole consent between two adults thing but some of the stuff you mention being in sbi fics is making me a bit confused. i can see what you mean with the fear play and stuff (as an aroace i’ve been exploring non-sexual kink in other fandoms lately so i have definitely looked back at some sbi fics and went hmmm) but where do you draw the line? what’s the difference between a praise kink and someone who likes to get approval from people they look up to? why are using pet names sometimes kink and sometimes not? for the torture stuff: i’ve only ever seen hurt/comfort after a character gets tortured, how is that kinky at all? idk im just so lost rn

This is not a dumb question! Yeah! Unfortunately this is a thing, however, where there is no hard and fast answer for a lot of it, it's mostly down to tone. It's mostly down to vibes. It's the kind of thing where you are messaging your own beta reader like "okay I went hard on [subplot] do I need to tag this" and then they stare at it for you. (And thank you to the group chat for helping me with examples for this post.)

I'd say if you really start squinting at it, for a lot you can spot it if you go, what is the point of this scene, what is the beat being hit? What is the narrative here for? And in cases where like, someone is getting eaten by a giant, it's pretty clear that the point there is vore, and that's a kink, baby. Or like you say, with ones where the character is being pursued through the wood, the point is that Tommy (or whoever) is terrified and thinks he's about to die when he's caught, and that's fearplay with a side of predator/prey. Or ones where Tommy is pinned down against his will and forced to be cuddled by his new family, the point there is the pushing at Tommy's personal boundaries and the fact that he *likes* it anyways, and that's consent play/dubcon (ocassionally noncon, depending on the fic).

Anything with altered states of conciousness, whether that's through drugs, or "instincts", or magical mind control, or anything else, that starts to read as something where you go "what is the point of this scene"— is the point that Tommy's out of it and so floppy and gets manhandled? (I don't know the term for it but there's def a kink about being drugged). Is the point that Techno grabs at the back of Tommy's neck and growls at him and that puts him back in his proper dynamic place as his sub runt (yeah that's D/S right there).

You can also start to kind of spot the kink when you go, okay, how far from canon dynamics have we diverged to make this scene happen? I think that's why the nickname discourse happened, because we know what Wilbur calls Tommy in canon, and so "sunshine" starts to read as a different or extended dynamic from canon, and why is that dynamic there? What's Wilbur getting out of this scene, what's Tommy getting out of this scene, what is the reader supposed to get out of it? If someone who is normally in canon called "brat" or "child" is called "sunshine" or "darling" or "baby" or "mine", what's the reader supposed to get out that? Is the reader supposed to feel gratified by this, loved and affirmed and having that mental itch scratched, is that why the scene exists?

Or like, how is something set up by the narrative? Does it feel like an earned exception to the canon dynamic or is the point of the scene something else?— Do you see a difference between Wilbur hugging Tommy and speaking reassurances to him in a moment of vulnerability after he's been really hurt or something, and both of them are feeling horrible in the situation but are hoping for comfort, vs Wilbur gently cradling Tommy and cooing praises at him just because, and this makes Tommy's brain go all melty?

Like, if you imagine your own siblings or parents in these scenes, would it feel a bit weird? If you stumbled across this scene on TV, what would your first read be? If you genderswapped it and moved the slider on the ages, would it feel out of place in a YA novel?

With the praise kink thing, that's an extremely fuzzy line, but pushed to it I'd say, is the point of the scene that someone completed [task] and trusted person is proud of them for [task], with the focus on task completion, or is the point that someone has someone they trust and they're proud of them, and the focus is on how proud the person is of them and how worthwhile and good the person now feels because they've been affirmed by their trusted person?

And as for how torture can be kinky, uh, there's an entire field of types of kinks based on types of pain being committed— impact play, wax play, spanking, flogging, biting— and again it comes down to how the narrative treats it. Is the narrative expecting the audience to be really into a) watching this guy suffer b) getting in the head of this guy suffering? It isn't necessarily sexual, but it can definately get kinky to just— are you getting gratified by this, how much weight in the narritive is on the pain/helplessness/submission/mind break?

And that's not even getting into guro, which is eroticized gore— some people find torture sexy! Some people write snuff fics! How much does the narrative dwell on the gore, and how does it do it? How much does the story expect you to get out of this guy dying, are you supposed to be crying or are you supposed to be a bit wound tighter now?

And like, I want to reiterate that I'm not judging any of these kinks. Fiction is a safe place to explore a bunch of stuff you would find problematic or just straight up Very Bad in real life, and brains are weird. If you have been wired so that you get the good chemicals when specific story beats happen— look, I have to take so many brain meds to get the good chemicals, if you can hack your brain and get good chemicals off of platonic dubcon, i am applauding you.

Just a) keep it away from the creators, b) even if it's platonic, not everybody is into the same story beats or kinks. Please tag your shit.

#ask #long post #fandom meta #discourse #anon

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diapereddarling · 8 months ago

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Hello! It's me, from your notifications! Do you have a summary of your story anywhere? I went through a few character tags, but didn't find one. Also, I love that Damian is disabled but still gets to dress up all fancy. I didn't realize how rare it is to see that.

Hihi :D! I don't really have a story summary yet as a lot is still in planning and it's very wip BUT I can give you some links in semi chronological order of what I have got and also gush about it here!

aaa I'm so glad you like Dorian and how I present him >u< full disclaimer, I myself am a physically abled person. I'm trying my best to write and present him as respectfully as I can with a lot of research and opinions of friends in similar states of disability- but I may be ham fisted or get things wrong, so to anyone who reads this, please let me know if I fuck up somewhere. I'd rather be told I did something wrong or presented something disrespectfully than have people be uncomfortable in silence about it. DISCLAIMER OUT OF THE WAY- Yeah I noticed like, a lot of disabled characters ( be it physical or mental ) don't really get presented as if they like dressing up or looking nice- particularly after trying to look up more disability friendly ways Dorian would probably use. It Sucks lol. At least from the people with mental disabilities side of it where I sit, I can say that ain't true of everyone at all. It's just harder.

ANYWAYS, SUMARY OF POSTS AND STORY RAMBLING

So you can find some character reference stuff from this post here with picrew images- they were mainly so I could get a general idea of the main cast without physically having to draw them quickly

The story so far

The first post chronologically would be this one, as it talks about what happened to Dorian specifically. A bit about his home life, his parents, his neighbour and how he was released from said situation. I'm currently working on figuring out what the antagonist of this section's ties were to which god- but my main goal was to make it feel realistic at first before involving mythos with it. CW: : Stalking, kidnapping, delusions (involving pseudo incest thoughts ), (spinal) injury

After the incident, Dorian was hospital bound for a While. He'd been given a spinal injury, he was severely traumatised and could not be trusted to look after himself after all that yet because he was 6 months into being 18 when Mayline's life time of stalking came to a head. Even with rehabilitation efforts alone, the stint in hospital would've been a long one but then there was also the mental hurdles too. You can read some of that experience here. CW: medical setting, reactions to trauma, involuntary wetting and messing mention, a character being forcibly restrained in a non sexual way and trying to come to terms with mobility loss.

So while he was trying to adjust to his new normal there were a lot of things he would try to do to feel as if his life hadn't drastically changed ( it had, it's unfair that it happened but it is fine that it is now his life. Period of adjustment and all. ) He waited until Mayline's trail had been dealt with to carry on with education because, well. He's scared of her. He wants to know what's going to happen with her before he tried anything. During that time he read a lot, basically exposure therapying himself to the dark stories and stuff he enjoyed before because he didn't want to lose something that he felt made up so much of his identity. It almost definitely wasn't healthy but that is how he dealt with it.

After about a year or two, he decided he wanted to give further education a try. Since he was a kid he wanted to be a baker- he knew at least at the moment it was a pipe dream, mostly because of the various conditions that he has making said environment pretty dangerous. But he wanted to try.

While doing his culinary course, he met Leia. They didn't initially interact that much- very different aesthetics and very different circles. But Leia's a very intense and bubbly lass- so when she saw Dorian reading a book that she'd also wanted to read; there was basically no hesitation in her running up to him to chatter about the book. They became fast friends after that. Becoming friends with Leia helped him a lot in all honesty- Dorian was kind of Terrified of women after the incident ( and felt awful for it ) especially if they shared features with Mayline ( Blonde hair, blue eyes ect ), so Leia being both a woman and having blonde hair helped bring him out of it some what.

Dorian met Steven during the middle of his second year. It was when he decided to get his first tattoo ( the one on his thigh ) and Steven was apprenticing as a tattoo artist at the time. It's kind of difficult to not talk at least a little while going through the pretty long process of being tattooed and they ended up just getting along really well and meshing super well so just continued to meet up when they could because they enjoyed each others company.

Dorian also met Stevens current partner at the time, Charlie. They were all pretty friendly with each other though romantically, Charlie and Steven only lasted about 8 months. They broke it off mutually agreeing they'd be better friends and actually did become much closer as a platonic bestfriends rather than romantic partners. Charlies cool, he helped Dorian solder spikes to the rims of the wheels on his wheelchair to force people to stop trying to get to close lmao. It was his idea.

After university Dorian realised there was no way he could safely hold down a job. The mobility issues were too much to handle in a commercial kitchen setting even without the stress induced narcolepsy. It messed with him for quite a bit.

He lived on the internet for a bit, being fond of niche gothic forums and very surprisingly, still taking interest in true crime. It might've been an interest before his kidnapping but now he just wants to try to understand what the hell was going on in Mayline's head. He met Maxine on one of these forums, they talked about gothic lit for quite a bit before exchanging socials and forming a friendship off that.

During this time Dorian and Steven also started dating- and after about a year and a half, moved in together. They have a lower floor apartment together and one day hope to get a house together. Dorian also got his two kitties, Carmilla and Poe!

While living together Steven suggested to Dorian the idea of videoing himself baking or streaming it. It was kinda him recognising Dorian was trying to get over the hurdle of not being able to do what he wanted since he was a kid but also not wanting to give up completely. It isn't perfect but it works and Dorian finds a lot of fulfilment in it. He doesn't show his face ever, understandably, so he does his best to remain more or less anonymous on the internet with these things :3

All of these characters have been touched by at least one of the gods in in some way in this universe btw. I am figuring out the semantics but ye! That's what I've got so far c:

#sorry for rambling BVGHFHGJFHJGF #this is all VERY wip #darling mumbles #darling replies #dorian nervorum #steven moore #leia jordan #charlie burton #maxine bell

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katkat030 · 4 months ago

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1 6 8

hello!!! and omg good pick of questions ty :D

1 - 🦈Tell us the name of your/ one of your WIP(s)

home, home again (i like to be here when i can)

The title is taken from the lyrics of Time by Pink Floyd, imo the Ethubs song ever. Clock motifs my beloved.

6 - 💾What is your document of your wip/ a wip called? (not the stories actual title but what you’ve saved it as)

I'm going to grab a title from another WIP that... I'm not sure I'll ever publish tbh, I just think it's too funny not to write, even if it's just for myself.

Yup. A keysmash. I think it's fitting for what the story's looking like atm lmao

8 - ♻️A scrapped idea for your current WIP

OKAY GOOOOD QUESTION

^ this turned into an essay I'm so sorry my inability to be normal about them is showing

You'd probably need context to understand the significance, seeing as this is based off someone else's au (Shepscapade's DBHC au) which in turn takes android mechanics from the video game Detroit Become Human- firstly, here's the illustrated guide that Shep made on all things android, feel free to skip to the second half/most recent addition to the post for interfacing!

And a LITTLE bit of background (I'm trying to keep this short and I'm so sorry I think I failed) - at one canon point in the au, Etho, an android, tries to do something called interfacing with Bdubs, a human. (here :D)

- That's not something that's possible, by the way, it's only things that androids can do with other androids - and something that, as the illustrated guide explains, most would shy away from doing unnecessarily.

- And I think for Etho to accidentally try to do that in what's still relatively early on in their "friendship" with someone who isn't even an android is pretty crazy (huge display of trust + intimacy afsdljkflll)

ANYWAY all that is to say is that after the incident, you'll notice Etho's wearing gloves (something Shep pointed out in the tags of the "Etho interfaces with Bdubs" post).

Looks like somebody really wants to avoid embarrassing himself with a repeat.

But say they've been gardening the entire afternoon. Say Etho's gloves are tucked into his pocket. Say they hold hands while they're lying down. Say Etho accidentally tries to interface with Bdubs again, now another season of their developing relationship down the line. Oooh boy that would be awkward wouldn't it >:)

And that's the scrapped idea! I stopped in the middle of writing that scene to really think about the implications. And imo the display of trust that it would be for Etho to consciously, deliberately decide not to pull away, despite being startled by Bdubs holding his hand... idk I just think that's better :3

#:D TYSM FOR THE ASK #I was so excited to wake up and have this in my inbox #I've just had zero time until now to answer it #hermitshipping #ethubs #I refuse to tag this as divorce duo /silly #this is based on dbhc and it's not my own au but I don't want to intrude on that tag so I'll keep it like this #all credit to Shepscapades for the background and the mechanics and the brainrot!!#asks #answered #kat's words #new tag ig lol #ethubs fanfic #trafficshipping #<- just to cover all bases ig

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razorsadness · 2 years ago

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I’m not obsessively tagging this one, so just a few content warnings: there’s nothing graphic, but there’s some TMI stuff about sex and masturbation; talk of food and alcohol; discussion of grief, death, and illness; and a brief mention of transphobic/transmedicalist stuff. Also it might come across like I’m bragging about some compliments I’ve gotten for my writing recently. Also it’s long.

This is a really long entry, because I started writing it like, ten days ago, but then more stuff happened. This is a common thing for me, with letters and journal entries; I start writing them but don’t have time to finish, then more stuff happens, and I start adding the new stuff, but don’t have time to finish, and then more stuff happens and…you get the idea.

Anyway, these past two weeks have been jam-packed. There’s been a lot of luck & magic & beauty, with some hard stuff mixed in. (That’s life, that’s what all the people say…)

…

The evening of Thursday the 16th, I sent the ‘Mats-inspired vignettes to the editor of a zine I thought it’d be perfect for. Friday morning, I opened my email, and read his response. He loves it, and wants to run it in the next issue. He said I “perfectly captured that lonely midwestern feeling that certain Replacements songs have,” and that my writing is “romantic, but also real, like Kerouac mixed with Cometbus.” And if you know me at all, you know why I practically swooned over those particular compliments.

I also got an email saying our local library’s free seed library was newly restocked for the year, and I wanted to get there before it was all picked over. So, C. and I went to the library and picked up seeds for this year’s garden, along with an info packet on where and when to plant everything. We got seeds for: cayenne and poblano peppers; pickling cucumbers; spinach, mustard greens, collard greens, and kale; eggplant, squash, broccoli; Roma and Wisconsin organic (heirloom) tomatoes; carrots, and radishes. I’m so excited. Last year’s garden was our most successful ever, but we also made a couple mistakes which we learned from, so I’m thinking this year’s garden might be even better.

After that, C. and I popped over to my friend D.’s house. We got to meet his new pitbull-mix, Leonard, who is less than a year old and is therefore super high-energy, but so sweet. And we got to see their two-week-old foster kittens (and their mama), and C. even got to pet one! D. also gave me some cayenne and habanero, which he grew in his garden last year, then dried and ground—he’s been giving it to anyone who wants some, as he grew so many peppers that he can’t possibly use it all. (He also offered me some Carolina Reaper, but I passed on that.) I told him if there was ever anything I could give him in trade, to let me know, and he said: “Just listening to your spoken world album is trade enough,” and went on to say that he’s in awe of my poetic abilities.

All these compliments, a guy could get a big head! Except, I often think my writing is okay at best and I should just quit; when I get compliments like those it just offsets that and makes me realize that if other people are getting something from what I write, I should keep going.

Our last stop was the grocery store, where I got the rest of what I needed for the Dublin coddle, and got my flirt on with a beautiful redhead girl.

I had thought about putting green dye in my hair and painting my nails green for St. Paddy’s Day, but after all that running about town, I didn’t have time. I did, however, put my hair in braids (it’s long enough to braid now!), and put on green eyeliner.

I spent the next while putting together the Dublin coddle and getting it into the oven. I listened to the St. Patrick’s Day mix I listen to every year, then I listened to Hozier’s new EP, which holy fuck, I am trying so hard to be normal about, but it’s difficult. I truly wish I had a close friend who was into Hozier that I could nerd out about it with. Then I made a cup of tea and sat out in the backyard for a bit. One of the neighborhood crows came and lit on the fence, and it was cawing loudly about something. I asked it what was wrong, and we had a little ‘conversation.’

Me: “What is it, what’s wrong?” Crow: *cocks its head from side to side* caw caw. Me: “I’m sorry, I can’t help you with that.” Crow: squirrr-wakkk. Me: “I’m sure it will turn out fine.”

Funnily enough, the crow quieted down after that, stayed there for a while looking at me, then flew off.

It was really windy that day. To paraphrase myself: the wind, my lover, had returned, so I flirted with him a bit.

In the evening, I drank a pint of Guinness and a small glass of Jameson. In the old days, I would have easily downed three pints of stout and at least half a bottle of whiskey, not even because it was St. Patrick’s Day, but because it was a day, and to paraphrase myself, again—if you’re really Irish, you don’t need an excuse to get drunk. But I don’t do that anymore. The thing I do still do is get nostalgically sad (sadly nostalgic?) about old flames, and I had a few moments of that on St. Paddy’s Night. I found myself missing Ruby, and Jack of Spades, who I always miss most at this time of year; and Derry, whom I miss all the time, but always hardest in the spring and fall.

And then I emailed Derry. When I saw him back in October, I told him why I never respond to his periodic emails. And since then, he hasn’t emailed me; we left each other with the ball in my court, with it being up to me if I wanted to ever be in contact with him again. I probably shouldn’t have. I wasn’t even drunk, so I didn’t have that as an excuse. My only excuses are that I miss him so, so, so much, and I’m addicted to bad ideas.

Then P. and the kiddos and I watched Darby O’Gill and the Little People, which I hadn’t seen since I was a child. The movie left an indelible impression on me when I was a kid, though—I was deeply, deeply terrified of the banshee. Watching it the other night, I was no longer afraid, but I do understand why it scared me so back then. The sound she makes is absolutely bone-chilling.

…

Saturday, the temperature dropped, drastically—it was the coldest day we’ve had in weeks, felt more like midwinter again—but we braved the cold to go downtown and see the St. Paddy’s Day parade. It’s a small parade, even smaller this year because some people dropped out due to the weather, but it was still nice. A marching band started it off with a rendition of “Whiskey in the Jar.” One of the bars on Main Street was selling drinks, both alcoholic and non, in to-go cups, so you could grab one and take it outside while you watched the parade. P. and I both got Irish coffees, the kids got hot chocolate. The kids grabbed handfuls of candy and green plastic beads that some of the floats were tossing to the crowd. I sipped from my drink, and half-watched the parade, half-watched the other spectators.

There was a super sexy man standing near us. He was fat and also just big, like over six feet tall. He had a long, gray beard, but it was a very well-kept long beard, not ratty or dirty in any way. He was wearing a black beanie, a black leather jacket, an Irish kilt (with the tartan for County Derry; yes, I looked it up when I got home), and these tall, intricately patterned leather boots. I guess he caught me lookin’, cuz he fucking winked at me, and then I blushed so hard that my face felt hot despite the cold. Jaysis.

The best parts of the parade were the Root River Rollers (our local roller derby team; they looked hella cute in their green plaid skirts and black leggings and derby gear; I have a major thing for derby girls and have for a very long time); the float from McAuliffe’s Pub (they had someone on fiddle and someone on bodhrán, playing a reel); the pirates of Will’s Revenge (they’re a local group who cosplay as pirates for various events, I always love them, but this time they’d added little Irish touches for St. Paddy’s; of course I thought of B. saying of me all those years ago: …you’re and Irish pirate, that’s the best kind); and the girls from a local dance school (they were wearing black hoodies and black leggings and sparkly green tutus; they did a wildly impressive hiphopjazz dance routine).

Later that day, I made some minor edits on my ‘Mats vignettes (at the editor’s suggestion), while listening to The ‘Mats, and “Treatment Bound” came on and for the first time it hit me how much it sounded like some of my old friend L.’s music. I mean, I knew he was a Replacements fan, but it had honestly never hit me until then how much his sound was influenced by some of their stuff. Particularly the stuff off Hootenanny. And then I sat around missing L. for a while. I’ve written about him a lot before. He was one of those friends I had an intense crush on, and I thought I wanted to smooch him or maybe even bone him, but the most we ever did was cuddle/spoon. And then I realized it was better that way; I could get really close to him without worrying about sex making it weird. And then years later, I realized I never had actually wanted to fuck him, I had wanted to be him (or, well, be more like him, anyway). He had such a huge impact on my writing, my music, my life. We never had a falling out, just lost touch, got busy with our separate lives, never ran into each other anymore. The usual. I think of him often, though, and decided to web-search him the other day just so see what he’s up to. I found out that all his albums are now up on Bandcamp, and I’m so excited, because I lost my copies of them ages ago, and I love his music so much.

…

The next day was warmer again, though still windy. I took a long walk by myself. I trysted with the wind, again; he yanked my hair and slapped my cheeks pink. I walked down to the Little Free Library that’s in my neighborhood; I’ve found some great stuff in it before, and it had been months since I’d checked it. This time, I found nothing. I did, however, spot a tow truck with the words Anywhere and Anytime on it, and I snapped a picture. It seemed like a good sign, as the title of my ‘Mats memoir series is Anyplace or Anywhere or Anytime.

When I got home from the walk, I spent the rest of the afternoon writing.

…

Monday, I woke up and got the bullshit stuff I had to do but had been dreading/putting off out of the way first. I am not always able to do that, but the Executive Function fairy truly blessed me that day. Then I did school stuff with the kids. It was warm enough that we could do a (partially) outdoor science experiment. First, the kids designed protective casing for eggs, then we took them out in the backyard and dropped them from various heights to see how far they could drop without breaking. We even recorded our results! It was a lot of fun.

After that, I did some witchy stuff to celebrate the first day of spring. I redecorated my altar, lit some incense, did a little spell/ritual. Then I did a Spring Equinox tarot reading for myself, and it was so clear and right-on that I reached out to Emchy and was like: “Hey, the cards are really talking to me today, want me to pull a few for you?” She said yes, so I did.

Later in the afternoon, I took another solo walk. This time I took photos of some of the sidewalk date stamps in my neighborhood. I also spotted the first crocus of the season, and snapped photos of those. Trysted with the wind again. Sang (quietly, but out loud) as I walked—first Jolie Holland’s “Springtime Can Kill You” (because it is one of my all-time favorite songs), then the Counting Crows’ “Sullivan Street” (because I’d thought of something ‘hanging on the air,’ and it made me think of that song).

When I got home, I wrote a short poem, and then I started working on translating it into Gaeilge. I find that when I’m learning a new language, translating my words/thoughts from English into said language helps.

After that, I checked my email. There was one from Derry; his response to the email I’d sent on St. Patrick’s Day. I am not going to quote from it directly, not here; some things have to be kept just for me. Suffice it to say: we’re not trying to hook up or get together or start things all over again, but we’re mutually unsure where that leaves us; he misses and loves me just as much as I do him.

P. and I made dinner together that night. He made the sides and I made the main dish. We’d already planned on making roasted potatoes with dijon and rosemary (because we already had all the ingredients) and green beans with onions and bacon (because we already had the bacon and onions); we’d already decided to have pork chops as the main dish. But the night before I got a craving for French food, so that morning I looked up “French pork chops,” and found a recipe for pan-cooked pork chops with paprika, in an onion-dijon cream sauce. It was amazing.

We finished off the night by having passionate sex. It was a perfect ending to the first day of spring.

…

Tuesday was kinda crappy. The kids were cranky, and I had some unspecified physical yuck happening; my stomach hurt and I was just exhausted the whole day. But I managed to take another walk, this time with C. And it was World Poetry Day, so I read some poetry and worked more on my translation.

…

Wednesday was a happysad day. It was the ten year anniversary of my grandma’s death, so of course I was thinking about her. I was also thinking about Jason Molina. The 18th had been the ten year anniversary of his death, and my grief over losing my grandma is inextricably bound up with my grief over Jason Molina’s death. When my grandma got seriously ill, and we knew she wasn’t going to live much longer, I was deeply depressed, and I was listening to a lot of Songs: Ohia and Magnolia Electric Co. at the time, and then Jason died, and four days later my grandma died, so yeah, they’re always linked in my mind.

Wednesday was also my dad’s birthday. I wrote a birthday poem for him, and collaged a card to put it in. In the afternoon, P. and I went to a local job fair and found out about some potential employment opportunities for him. Fingers crossed that one of them pans out, because they’re pretty good ones. As we were leaving the job fair, we saw a seagull and a hawk fighting. Then we and the kiddos went to my folks’ house to celebrate my dad’s birthday. We had a nice dinner and some cake, and I gave my dad the card I’d made.

My mom and I reminisced about my grandma (her mom). Then she told me about an old friend of the family who is battling a serious illness. Later, Joni Mitchell came up in conversation, and my mom and I were talking about Joni and her music, and the memories we have attached to it—for both of us, Joni’s songs specifically remind us of being in our twenties. So we were both in our feelings about my grandma and the old family friend and our own pasts and Joni’s music, and we listened to “River” and cried a little together, and it was probably the closest I’ve felt to my mom in a long while.

Later that night, as I lay in the dark trying to fall asleep, I heard coyotes yipping as they wandered through the neighborhood.

…

Thursday, the kids were in bad moods again, and I was feeling anxious about various stuff. But I managed to get past it. I read some, made a collage, drank some tea. I signed up for a temporary money-making side gig. I finished writing/editing the poem about the time Ali and I visited Nancy Spungen’s grave; I have been working on it on-and-off for years, and I’m glad to finally have it in a place where I feel like it’s ready to be out in the world.

Then I watched the crows in the yard. That crow I talked to on St. Patrick’s Day? It returned, and brought its mate, and they are building a nest in the tree that hangs partially over our yard! Maybe that’s what it was making a racket about the first time; maybe it was scouting locations for a nest and was trying to get its mate to come see? In any case, we’re gonna have crow neighbors, and they’re gonna start a family! Oh my god, there are gonna be baby crows! The crows in the area are probably already familiar with me, because I have left out food for them before, and said hello when I’ve been near them; and I’m very glad that my talking to one of them the other day did not deter them from building their nest in/near our yard. (I’ve now started leaving peanuts for them in the backyard, since at least this pair has been coming around that side more often, and they’ve been back every day, but more about that later.)

Thursday night, I had a dream about my old friend J.C. I’ve known him since I was in the sixth grade, and we’ve been in and out of each other’s lives since (again, no falling out, just life drifting us apart), but I haven’t seen him in almost fourteen years now. It was good to see him in the dream, though, and I hope he’s doing well.

…

Friday, I spent most of the day getting ready for that evening’s spoken word gig. I collated zines, gathered together all the merch I wanted to take with me. I gathered together the poems I might want to read; timed a few newer ones/ones I’d never performed at a reading before. I drove to the bank downtown; to get some cash in various smaller denominations of bills, so I’d have change to give when people bought my merch. At one point on the drive, I was behind a car, and I noticed one of their bumper stickers: the background was the pride flag, and the text over it read Make America Gay Again. Awesome. Back at home, I started enacting even more pre-event rituals. (I say ‘event’ because I have long enacted some or all of these rituals whether it’s a spoken word gig, a music gig, a zine fest, an art show, a burlesque performance, a circus performance, etc. etc. Basically, I enact some or all of these rituals, or other, similar ones, whenever I have any kind of event where I’m performing and/or selling stuff, whether it’s in-person or online.) I cut the sleeves off my Keep Books Dangerous tee (a sure sign of spring for me, cutting the sleeves off a t-shirt), and changed out/added to the pins on my leather jacket. I freshened the color in my hair. I did all this while summoning the Undying Spirit of Punk Rock, by blasting the Daycare Swindlers.

Listening to the DC Swindlers of course made me think of N., as he was the lead singer of that band. I know I’ve written about him before, but I was hit with a wave of missing him so hard on Friday. We were platonic soulmates. I was never sexually or romantically attracted to him; as far as I know he was never into me that way either. (In fact I had a huge crush on his girlfriend!) But we just clicked; from the first time we met we had people saying we were like twins. We didn’t look anything alike, but there was just something about us. The way we dressed, our predilections, obviously our taste in women; just our general vibes. Twins. Soulmates. Because not all soulmates are romantic or sexual in nature; in fact, for as many romantic/sexual partners as I’ve had, I’ve had far more platonic soulmates.

Other rituals I enacted pre-gig were putting on my necklace of charms and dabbing a bit of the “Follow Me, Boy” scent on my pulse points.

P. actually got to come with me for once, which was amazing. I’ve said before that my parents are real weird about watching the kids, but this time they offered so P. could go with me, and of course I jumped at the chance.

At about five, we dropped the kiddos at my parents house, then headed north/west, to the far west side of Milwaukee, right on the border of Wauwatosa. Drove up on old familiar roads, saw some excellent graffiti. Parked near the gallery where my reading was, in front of a beautiful soft-yellow house with a pride flag hung from their porch, and a sign in the yard: We Back the Vag. Again, awesome.

The gallery was great, full of funky-cool art. Everyone that worked there was super friendly, so were all the other performers (both featured and open mic). At least half the people there, performers and audience, were some flavor of queer, and there were also several POC and several Jewish people! (I know that last part for a fact because a few of the poets read pieces that mentioned Judaism/being Jewish.) I felt so comfortable and happy. Like, obviously, as a queer person, I get tired of being around only cishets; but even as a white goy, I also get tired of being around only white, (culturally) Christian folks. I guess I just spent enough of my life in big cities and other diverse spaces that I am actually less at ease when everyone looks like me and/or has a similar cultural background. And it’s just fucking boring, ya know? Why would I only wanna be around people who look and act like me?!

Soon after we arrived at the gallery, I was setting up my merch, and the queer kid (I say ‘kid’ because they were in their early 20s, which, now that I’m in my 40s, is definitely in ‘kid’ territory for me) who was the musician for the evening saw my spoken word album—Self Portrait with Ghosts & Trains. “That’s definitely something I would listen to,” they said. “I like ghosts, I like trains.” Pause. “Damn, too bad I only know one train song. I mean, I only know how to play one train song. I know lots of train songs in general.” I told them that I’d made a playlist of train songs a few years ago, and that even though I’d spent time narrowing it down from the original list, it still had 50+ songs on it. “Have you ever seen Metalocalypse?” They asked. “How come all they sings about is trains?” I replied. “That is actually the name of my train song playlist, no kidding.” They laughed, said, “What else is there, really?,” and then we fist bumped.

Then it was time for the open mic part of the evening, and the other featured poet-performers. All of the other poet-performers were really good, in their own ways. Some of them were just good all around, both poetry-wise and performance-wise. Others were not my jam, poetry-wise, but performed their stuff really well. And still others were people whose poems were fantastic but who were fairly new to performing; I know that if they keep at it they will be absolute fire in the not-too-distant future.

Then it was my turn. I opened my set with a poem that is not my own. See, it would have been Lawrence Ferlinghetti’s 104th birthday that day, so I opened with “See, it was like this, when…” Then I did a bit of improv. What I mean by that is—I had brought way more poems with me than I could feasibly read, and I had a couple I knew I for sure wanted to read but for the rest it was like, I’ll just go with what I’m vibing with at the time. And some of the other performers inspired some of my choices. One of the poets read some of their sonnets, so I read two of my sonnets; one of the performers opened with an a capella rendition of “Cabaret,” so I read my Cabaret-inspired poem. I also read two of my Wisconsin poems—a Milwaukee one, and my Beast of Bray Road poem; an excerpt from The Loneliest Show On Earth; and the poem about visiting Nancy’s grave. The crowd was so, so attentive and responsive. Like, they were there to hear poetry. I heard some laughter during parts of some of my poems (not laughing at, laughing with), and also some gasps and ohs. Afterward, I got so many compliments. I mean, people were telling me my stuff was funny but also moving, or saying it was like I cast a spell, saying they got chills at certain points; someone noticed the Diane Di Prima influence on my work, someone else noticed the Lynda Hull influence…god damn. I sold some stuff and got a cut of the door, and it was enough to cover my gas money to and from the gig and still have like thirty bucks left over; gotta love that sweet, sweet poetry money. (To quote myself: How no one warned you it’s hard to make a living writing about your heart. How you don’t make a living, but you sometimes make enough money for wine.) I also got approached by the guy who runs the weekly Poetry Nights at Linneman’s River West Inn, and he wants me to be the featured poet there sometime in July or August. I’m so excited! I haven’t been to Linneman’s since early 2009, but back when I lived in MKE I used to perform there all the time—though back then, I performed on the music open mic nights, as that’s when I was more focused on music than poetry. Speaking of music—when the kid I’d talked to earlier in the evening got up for their set, they played the one train song they knew how to play—“Freight Train,” by Elizabeth Cotten—and dedicated it to me. My heart.

P. and I left, then crossed the border into ‘Tosa, and got a round at a beer & whiskey bar called Draft & Vessel. I had an imperial stout that had chai spices in it, and it was so fuckin’ good.

On the drive home, I got to experience that magical thing that happens on the road at night. You know, where you look down at your lap, and the lights coming in through the windshield from above have striated your skin and clothing, and as you move the stripes move, moving stripes of light/shadow/light/shadow. I wish I could think of a better way to describe it; if I can, I’m going to put it in a poem.

…

Saturday we got a bunch of snow. Early spring snow is not uncommon in the upper midwest—in the immortal words of Prince: sometimes it snows in April. And anyway, we had nowhere we needed to be that day, so we just had a cozy-at-home, creative day. P. and I made meal plans for the coming week. I wrote a bit. I made a necklace, inspired by some I’d seen at the gallery and couldn’t afford. I took some knolling photos of my bottlecap, key, and souvenir penny collections; for no other reason than that I felt like it. I recorded an audio version of my VU-inspired poem from Left of the Dial.

My knee and ankle were hurting all day. The poetry reading had been packed full and there were only about eight chairs available, and there were people in their sixties and seventies there, and I never think of my disabilities as real enough, so I gave the chairs to those I thought needed them more, and I stood the whole time. And yeah, I paid for it, bodily. It sucked to be in pain all the next day, but I did kind of chuckle at the “I’m getting old”-ness of it all. Like, I used to go wild in the pit at punk shows and maybe I’d get banged up and sore but I’d be mostly okay (with the notable exception being that time I broke my ankle in the pit), and now I stand for a couple hours at a poetry reading and I’m in pain for days.

I thought of Sinclair, another old flame, that day; possibly because of that kid playing “Freight Train” the night before, as that was a staple of Sinclair’s repertoire. I haven’t seen or spoken to him in somewhere close to 14 years now, and I haven’t even web-searched him in a decade. Unlike with some of my other exes, it’s not that I fear I’ll decide to contact him and open everything up again, it’s that— Well, I’ve worried that he might be dead or in prison. He was a sweetheart, genuinely one of the best, kindest people I’ve ever known—but he was also an outlaw, and he lived a rough life. He was a queer train-hopping hobo/crusty/circus performer/musician; he was often homeless, and had bouts of trouble with the law and various addictions. Saturday, I decided to look him up to see what I could find…and I was relieved to know that he’s not just living but seemingly thriving, back in his hometown of New Orleans, where he just had a music gig on March 23rd. I’m so relieved. Just knowing that he’s out there, still doin’ his thing, is enough for me.

That night, P. and I had hot, wild, rough sex, and I fell asleep more easily than I normally do. Unfortunately, I did have a terrible dream that woke me up in the middle of the night, and then it took me hours to get back to sleep. I don’t even want to go into detail about it because it was so gruesome and bloody and involved terrible bodily harm being visited on some of my loved ones, including one of my kids. I actually had to go into D.’s room and make sure he was okay, and sit watching him breathe for a while, before I could calm down at all. I don’t have vivid, horrific dreams as much now as I did when I was in my teens and twenties, but when they come? They’re fucking doozies. A lot of horror doesn’t even scare me because I’ve had dreams that were just as graphic, but even worse, because the harm was being visited on me and/or people I love.

…

Sunday, I woke up to the notification that someone had bought some stuff from my online shop, which is always a nice thing to wake up to.

Later in the morning, it snowed a little more, and I saw the crows again. And this time, they’d brought a friend. My first thought was: “They’re a polycule!” Which, okay, I know crows don’t work that way, but I recently read something that said crows are ‘socially monogamous but genetically promiscuous’ so maybe? In any case, they were with a third crow; probably another member of their murder. And they were playing! I watched them leap down from the tree to the top of the neighbors’ garage roof, then slide to the bottom edge near the eaves, from which they’d fly back up to the tree and do it all over again. I was so fucking thrilled; I’ve seen videos of crows playing before, but I’ve never seen it so clearly in person. I wanted to get my own video, but of course by the time I got my phone and got ready to record, they’d stopped. I know, pics or it didn’t happen, but this has just been one of the many amazing things I’ve witnessed or experienced in my life where I do not have any ‘factual’ documentation, and it doesn’t even matter because I know it happened and it lives inside me, now.

In the late afternoon, D. had the worst meltdown he’s had in a while. His anger is getting worse as he edges towards adolescence, but at least now he has a therapist that can help us through it.

For dinner, P. made shrimp, pork, and andouille jambalaya, with a side of greens. We had sex again that night; this time, it was slow, lazy, and deeply sensual.

…

Monday morning, D. had his therapy appointment, then I did schoolwork with the kiddos. Then I got dinner going in the crockpot (one of my favorite go-to meals: Moroccan chicken tagine with chickpeas and apricots) while listening to my favorite radio station; they played banger after banger after banger, and I discovered a bunch of new (to me) favorite songs.

Monday evening, before dinner, we filed our taxes. We’re not getting back as much as I’d hoped (because the fucking Republicans decided to axe the expanded Child Tax Credit), but we’re still getting enough that it will make a positive difference in our lives over the next couple months.

That night, we had sex; wild and hot and fast again, that time.

…

Despite all the sex we’ve been having, I woke up ridiculously horny on Tuesday. I was also really restless and a little bit anxious, but I had to do all this sitting-at-my-desk bullshit like attending the Zoom training session for my new side gig, and applying for energy assistance. In between sit-down tasks, I worked through my restless, horny energy by either pacing around or jacking off. Seriously, it was like, bullshit task, walk up and down the stairs a few times; bullshit task, lock myself in the bathroom to jack off; and so on. I ended up jacking off three times that day. (Twice during the day, once at night in bed after P. had fallen asleep; his chronic back pain was acting up so we couldn’t mess around that night, alas.)

The best things of that day were: 1. Finding out I was such a hit at the gallery on Friday that they want me to be one of their features again in May. Like, according to the person who is my point of contact there, even after I left, people were coming up to her saying: “Wow, Jessie was amazing; when can I see them again?!” 2. The burgers we made for dinner that night: blue cheese, bacon, Buffalo sauce, and tomato burgers.

…

Yesterday I clocked a couple hours for my new side gig. It’s kinda tedious, but at least I can do it on my own time, and I need the money.

After that, I did school stuff with the kiddos, including some art time. They both painted, and I sat down to draw something that I thought was kind of inspired by Paradise Lost (cuz I’m on a Milton kick lately) and Nick Cave, but which turned out to be a figure straight out of that horrifying dream I had on Saturday. And I am actually entirely freaked out by the drawing; I had to hide it so I won’t see it.

I spent most of the afternoon laying in bed, drinking tea and reading, as my sinuses were acting up and I couldn’t do much else.

Fortunately, I felt better by evening. For dinner, I made fish tacos (with shredded lettuce, pico de gallo, fresh avocado, and lime wedges for garnish) with beans and rice on the side.

And P. and I got to have sex last night, and it was great, again, as it has been lately.

…

Today I woke up restless, horny, and anxious, again. Mostly the anxiety stemmed from a phone call I had to make. Before I made the call, I did yoga, ate a small breakfast, and took my ashwagandha and magnesium supplements, which helped ease my anxiety a little. Then I made the call, and it sucked, but not as bad as I had feared it would, and hey, at least then it was done.

Late morning, I took the kids to the library. They got to play in the play area for a while; I talked with a mom who was there with her three kiddos (all of them true gingers!). We checked out a bunch of books, as per usual. Then came home to make lunch—mini quesadillas, plus avocado & pico de gallo & beans & rice left over from last night.

After lunch, I decided to take a walk. It’s chilly and a bit windy today, but it had been over a week since I took a walk, and I get even antsier/more restless without them. So I bundled up, and took some hot coffee in my travel mug to keep me warm.

When I stepped out the back door, my crow friend was in the tree where it’s building its nest. It saw me and cawed, then went flying toward the front yard, like it wanted me to follow. I was like: “Oooh, side quest!” When I got out to the sidewalk, I saw the crow in the front yard a few houses down, pulling at something in the mud. I got to the crow just as it pulled the object free, and I saw it was this long, silvery piece of something—like maybe tinsel, or part of a mylar balloon. I said: “Oh, good for you, you found a shiny for your mate!” The crow then flew back towards our backyard.

As I said above, I’ve been feeding the crows in this neighborhood on and off for years, and occasionally saying hello to them, but I do not understand why this particular crow (and by extension, its mate and family/friends) has decided we’re besties. I do not understand, but I am fucking delighted.

I took my walk around the block, got home, promptly locked myself in the bathroom and jacked off.

Tonight, for dinner, P. made chicken cacciatore. The recipe he uses has a white (white wine, lemon juice, olive oil) sauce as opposed to the usual tomato-based chicken cacciatore, and it’s so good. And I’m hoping we get to fuck again tonight, cuz like I said, I’m wildly, insatiably horny these days.

…

This weekend is looking like it will be another jam-packed one. I have to meet up with K. to pick up the Joe Strummer piece I commissioned for Ali’s birthday. There’s a couple activist things I’m participating in; tomorrow’s rally for queer youth, plus some voter outreach stuff I signed up to do prior to next Tuesday’s very important election.

Saturday is the start of National Poetry Month/NaPoWriMo. I plan to attempt a 30/30, because I generated so much work last April (and had fun doing it). I’m also working up some curriculum to teach both the kids about reading and writing poetry, at age-appropriate levels.

One of my first projects for NaPoWriMo is gonna be trying to finish translating that poem I wrote last week from English to Gaeilge. It’s been tricky because, though it’s a short poem, it has an odd structure that does not lend itself easily to Gaeilge. Also, my grasp on Gaeilge is rudimentary at best. But then, that’s why I’m doing this, to help me learn.

Next week, I’m hoping to finish getting the New Wave anthology ready for print.

…

Other than all that? Well, there have been more realizations and epiphanies.

I’ve been getting braver, again. Doing things even if I’m scared to; because I remembered that most of the best things in my life have come from moments of “Am I scared? Yeah, but fuck it, I’ll do it anyway.”

I’ve been reincorporating elements of my old life, my old personality. From things as simple as drinking lapsang souchong again, taking walks whenever I can, rereading old favorite books, rediscovering old favorite albums; to things more esoteric. For so long I’d been lamenting the days when I was a mystical romantic lovesick dork, wishing I could be that way again but thinking I was too old. But now I’m allowing myself to behave that way again. I’m romanticizing my daily life, singing as I walk down the street, talking with the crows, cavorting with the wind.

A lot of those things (the tea, the walks, the mystical romantic lovesick dorkiness) sort of rhyme with a very specific time in my life, namely 2006-2008, and it’s funny that I’ve been asked to do a reading at Linneman’s, which was a place I frequented in those years. I know, you can’t go home again—except, sometimes you can.

And I’m also glad that I’m managing to reintegrate the positive aspects of those days without the self-destructive ones (i.e., drinking to excess and hooking up with people I didn’t even really like very much).

Another thing I’m reincorporating into my life is the DIY? Because I Gotta attitude. It’s not that I’ve ever fully lost it, but I’ve been doing a lot of it lately: things like making that necklace for myself, writing the poem and making the collage-card for my dad, etc. I used to get down on myself because I’ve never had enough money to buy gifts for all my loved ones for every occasion, but now I’m like, wait, this is actually a good thing about me. Not the lack-of-money part, but… I might not have money to buy people gifts all the time, but I do things like make them art, write them poems, make them personalized zines, make them mix tapes or playlists, bake them bread or cookies, give them veggies from my garden, give them tarot readings, etc. That’s actually pretty fucking cool.

I’ve been re-redefining success re: my writing career. Once again reminding myself that as long as my words get out in the world and the people who need them find them, that’s the most important thing—doesn’t so much matter what route those words take to get there. Reminding myself that I can look for agents for certain projects, submit to the more established lit journals, enter big name contests, etc., but that I can also continue to publish my own zines and chapbooks, and send stuff out to indie mags and presses. I don’t have to choose! I can try it all!

Speaking of not having to choose—I’ve been re-embracing the fluid nature of both my gender/gender expression and my sexuality.

For a while I was reading too much of that baeddelism stuff, and even though I objectively know it’s bullshit, it kinda got to me. I started thinking to myself: “You’re not currently pursuing medical transition, you have long hair, and you still wear skirts and makeup sometimes. Those people are right—you’re just a penis-obsessed cis woman LARPing as nonbinary.” And then I was like, wait. First of all, though medical transition is an important part of transitioning for many trans people, it is not the only valid way to transition. Second of all, plenty of men, trans and cis, have long hair or wear skirts or makeup; why am I letting a handful of people who are basically TIRFs (trans-inclusive radical feminists) dictate how I present and what that means about my gender? My gender and sexuality have always been fluid, that’s just who and how I am; that’s why I have always preferred the term queer—because it states that I am not cishet, but doesn’t box me into some narrow definition of gender or sexuality that might change the next moment, anyway. So, once again: I’m here, I’m queer, get used to it. And: You cannot misgender me in a way that matters.

Speaking of fluid sexuality—the way my desires are changing lately is fascinating. Some things that used to turn me on no longer do it for me; other things that I was never into are now super hot.

These past two weeks have made me think of that Aaron Cometbus quote, about the kind of days I’ve been having: Simple days but with little surprises and long walks and good luck.

And it’s spring, it’s spring! Still chilly, but it stays lighter later every night, and the birds are out squawking and singing at all hours, and of course I’m restless and horny, it’s spring!

Overall, I’ve been full of gratitude and joy. I have amazing friends, all over the world. I get so overwhelmed with love for my kids, and for P. Seriously, every day I look at P. and think how lucky I am to have him as my partner in life; as the person I get to raise kids with and have hot sex with and cook good food with and wake up to every morning. And every day, I get to read books and listen to music and make art and write.

Of course things aren’t perfect, with the kids or with P., and I’m tired of being broke, and there’s the anxiety and executive dysfunction, and there’s a lot of bad shit in the world. But I have plans to make my and my family’s future better. And I’m getting more involved with activism again—apparently, when I allow myself to do things that bring me joy, I have more spoons for helping other people! Shocking, I know.

And I cry a lot, and I get nostalgically sad and long for old faces and places I once knew, and I get restless and long for new faces and places and adventures. And my heart breaks every day, from the beauty of the world, and the pain. But if that’s the tax for being a poet, for being a mystical romantic lovesick dork; if that’s the tax for not being closed off to any part of life—then I will gladly, gladly pay it.

#ashtrayfloors #dear livejournal #haha #this post is so long #and it's actually SHORTER than initially planned #because #well for one i'd started writing about a few things that had happened over the past two weeks that were kinda bad/annoying #but then partway through just got bored of writing about them #so i took those paragraphs out #and for two #i wrote this several-paragraph long backstory #about my old friend j.c. who i had the dream about #like the history of our friendship/how i first knew him #and realized that it didn't really belong in a journal entry #but in fact should be expanded as a story for my zine eventually

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mimi-cee-hq · 3 years ago

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Laundry Days - Aran x f!reader

Summary: Three times you picked up his underwear and one time you missed doing it.

Genres, other tags: fluff, slice of life, humour, meet cute, domestic fluff, not suggestive lol, married under 25, neighbours to married lovers ;)

Words: 1.6k

Warnings: manga spoiler

This is for @neoheros & @coophi's 2021 Summer Haikyuu!! Writing contest. (Okay I'm pretty shy at first so it feels a little scary to tag you two but here's my piece.) I was going for the married under 25 prompt but ended up doing neighbours to lovers too. :D

Don't mind me spreading the underrated characters agenda as well. lol.

*****

A few articles of clothing spilled out of the dryer and onto your feet. Oops. Your neighbour must have forgotten them. You should've checked first.

Your own damp clothes sat inside the washing machine next to it, waiting for their turn to enter the dryer. It wasn't possible now.

You sighed, retrieving the phone from your pocket and scrolling until you saw the name of the neighbour who lived a floor below you.

Ojiro Aran.

You were sure this was the right person after a second look at your texting history. Who'd bring the garbage to the curb, where the lawnmower was kept, and keeping the duplex's stairway clear were some of the conversations you had with him.

You had yet to meet the guy, but he seemed amicable enough.

After shooting him a text, you thought to give him a call instead. Perhaps he'd think a phone call was strange. However, your clothes were damp and you shouldn't leave them for long. Was he even home?

You sighed. Crouched down, you returned the clothes on the floor back into the machine. A scarf, several socks, and a knit hat made their way back inside. But what was this?

Underwear. Men's underwear.

You scrunched your nose as you lifted it from the cold, tile floor. Was that a hole in it?

Click.

"Sorry I just saw your text!" a tall, dark-skinned man blurted out as soon as the door was unlocked.

"Oh! It's alright! I only texted you a few minutes ago!" you quickly explained, waving your hands in front of you.

You shouldn't have done that. The underwear was hanging from your hand.

"Ummm…" Aran scratched his cheek, eyes retreating from you.

"Oh my goodness! I'm so sorry!" you spat out, tossing the incriminating object to him. "It just fell out of the dryer when I opened it so I went to pick it up!"

Once in his hands, he recognized it as the one with the seam coming undone. "I… umm… should probably have thrown this one out."

"Umm… yeah… you probably should." Those words slipped off your tongue before you could catch them.

"I- I guess I'll go now," Aran said hastily.

He shut the door.

You let out a breath. That was awkward. Heat continued to linger in your body and you weren't sure who was more embarrassed by the encounter.

Wait. His clothes were still in the dryer. Did you dare ask him back?

The door slowly creaked open and Aran peeked his head into the room.

"I forgot something, didn't I?" Aran sheepishly asked.

"Yeah." The corners of your mouth lifted into a smile. "Yeah, you did."

"I'm Aran by the way."

"Y/n."

You never thought this would be how you'd meet your future husband.

*****

The office chair in your apartment was a comfortable spot for folding clothes. The webcam caught your face as you chatted with Aran whose image filled the monitor.

You smiled. Your husband was winding down after a long day with the team and decided to check up on you.

"I'm alright," you told Aran. "I miss you though."

"I literally just saw you yesterday!" he said. "I miss you too."

After that fateful yet awkward encounter with him in that laundry room two years ago, you had run into each other more frequently at the front doors of your duplex. Your classes ended at similar times four out of your five school days. You were surprised he even started a conversation with you. You wouldn't have been able to bear the embarrassment. Fast forward to a confession, a kiss and a rock-embedded ring, and you got a small, snowy wedding during winter break.

It was back to the books for you now, and you dreaded it. Chores seemed much better, easier. Plus doing them for your newly-wedded husband? You got giddy about that.

You quirked your brow, lifting a familiar piece of clothing from the basket.

"Hey, I thought you threw this one out," you mentioned to Aran, dangling his underwear in front of the camera.

"I did! That's, uh, probably a different one."

"Just how old are these?"

"Hey! Wait a moment! Are you folding clothes?"

You avoided the eyes on the screen. "Maybe."

"You have your paper due in a few days! I told you I was going to do it after flying back home."

"I know…"

Aran's eyes narrowed at you, a trademark expression of his. "You're procrastinating again, aren't you?" His tone implied disapproval.

"But I'm still being productive!"

"Y/n…"

"Okay, okay. I'll stop." Your foot pushed the basket away, sliding it across the floor. Maybe you could fold them after you hung up.

Aran must have read your mind. "Show me what the laundry bin looks like."

You groaned. He saw right through you. Complying, you removed the clipped webcam off the monitor and directed it at the pile of unfolded clothes.

"It better be like that when I get home."

"Alright," you said with a pout.

"Love you."

"Love you too."

Must he stop you from doing chores? They were a simple reminder you were married to him, as if the gold on your finger wasn't enough to show you.

You were his wife.

A smile snuck into your lips whenever that thought crossed your mind. The honeymoon phase was a peculiar, strange, lovely stage.

Yet it was fleeting.

*****

You groaned as you stood in the middle of the bathroom. Aran's white track pants hung off the counter, the red t-shirt he got for free from first year college laid on top, and of course his underwear, which likely went through hundreds of washes, remained on the floor.

Great.

You rubbed your temples, your headache getting worse by the minute. It was Saturday morning, and Aran, who was nowhere to be seen, had left his mess behind.

I'll clean it up later, he would tell you. You knew his mother had spoiled him, always picking up after him. You understood why he was like this, but why couldn't he just start doing it now?

"Do you have this problem?" you asked your friend through your wireless headset.

"What problem?" she asked.

"Does your husband always leave laundry around on the floor?" You pinched the bridge of your nose. "Aran never picks up after himself."

She laughed. You weren't sure if it was because you were a young, amateur wife or if she understood all too well.

Knowing her, probably a bit of both.

"Okay two things."

You listened.

"One, don't say always or never. That's lying."

"I'm not lying," you snapped back at her. You began to regret asking her.

"Are you sure he never picks it up and always leaves it on the floor?"

You left no comment.

"Exactly."

"Okay fine, but that still doesn't solve the problem. If only he just did it, it would solve everything–"

"Number two," she interrupted.

You groaned at her and she gave an amused snort in return.

"If you weren't picking up his underwear, it means he's dead."

You were aghast.

"You know I'm right."

Still aghast.

"What? No husband, no mess."

"I can't believe I asked you for advice."

"But it's true."

"Ugh," was all you could utter. She had several years more of marriage experience than you, yet you didn't want to acknowledge it.

You hung up the phone after you finished deciding today's outing with her, but you hadn't addressed the issue in front of you. Your head throbbed again.

Sighing, you picked up the underwear.

A few minutes later, the front door opened and you dipped your head into the hallway. Aran shuffled grocery bags through the door and into the kitchen. He yawned, placing the milk, eggs, and other items into the fridge.

A familiar coffee brand peeked out of a bag on the floor. Right. You didn't have your coffee yet because there wasn't any left.

You wrapped your arms around Aran and relaxed against his broad back.

"I can't put the food away like this," he said with a chuckle.

"You left your clothes in the bathroom again."

"Oh shoot!" He dropped a bag and started towards the bathroom but you tightened your grip on him.

"I put them away already," you told him. His body relaxed and he caressed your arm around his waist.

The honeymoon phase was a fleeting phase, novel tasks turned mundane, but your love for him grew deeper still.

*****

Aran was away again, this time at Tokyo in preparation for the Olympics. He eagerly called you during breaks, wishing to see his favourite person – although your hands were full as well.

"I miss you," he told you, his smile displayed on the screen.

"And I miss picking up your underwear," you told him with a smirk.

Like clockwork, he narrowed his eyes at you with a comeback. "Why don't you say you miss me like a normal person?"

"Because I'm your wife. I'm special," you told him as he rolled his eyes. "I wish I could be there though."

"You wouldn't be able to spend that much time with me anyway," he said. "Besides, one of us needs to stay home."

"I know." You smiled.

"I gotta go," he said as Atsumu yelled in the background. Aran blew a kiss at you.

You snorted. How cheesy. You returned the kiss anyway.

Hearing a mischievous squeal behind you, you told him, "I gotta go too."

"Love you."

"Love you too."

After you hung up, you turned around and sighed. A soggy wet diaper sagged on the floor and the little guy jumping in the crib giggled at you as if he did the funniest thing in the world.

You rolled your eyes and smiled before picking up the diaper.

"Alright kid. Let's put a diaper back on you and wash your sheets."

*****

I hope you liked it. This is a little different from what I usually write but I hope you still enjoyed it!

I blame Aran's current concern for giving me this idea along with the person who suggested I write Aran fluff. (As well as the seasoned wife I know who told her husband, "If I wasn't picking up your underwear, it means you're dead." lolll.)

I hope you stick around my blog to check out my other works! My current work in progress is a fake dating Suna series. I can't believe we're on chapter 10!

If anyone is interested, I have a Google form for my taglist.

#aran x reader #aran fluff #aran fanfic #ojiro aran x reader #ojiro aran #aran ojiro #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fanfic #haikyuu oneshots #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu scenario #haikyuu fluff #C/R_HQ!CONTEST #hihqnetwork #animehorizons #angelwalker’s virtues #inarizaki #inarizaki x reader

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han-shinsuke · 3 years ago

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h a n d h e r o v e r

f e m a l e r e a d e r 🌹

m i n o r s k e e p o u t

[ tags, smut, nsfw, anal, foursome, themes ]

—•—

Without prior notice, he shows up in front of your dorm, dressed casually. You invite him inside but declined, telling you to come with him somewhere. You argue with him, insisting that you should change to something presentable but Bokuto seems to be in a rush so you have given up when he uses his puppy eyes. Inside his car, you keep checking your looks and it disappoints you. Unlike him, you look so ordinary. Well, you are someone insignificant. What’s the difference anyway?

“I’m gonna 𝒃𝒂𝒃𝒚 you later, Y/N,” huh? you shot him a confused look at the use of some endearment.

You laugh awkwardly, “what, Kou?” he is your best friend and your secret crush.

“You look like a kid in your clothes and considering your height, you really look like 𝒐𝒏𝒆.” you pout your lips and he bursts out laughing.

It’s his fault! He didn’t even let you fix yourself! You were running around the University’s oval when he calls. Now, who’s fault it is that he’s being accompanied by a lady in core 5 inch shorts in black and a plain hoodie?

“Shut up, Kou. You’re annoying!”

After driving for almost an hour, Bokuto parks his car in front of Sakusa’s house.

Wait. Sakusa’s house?! You grab onto the belt when Bokuto tries mounting off the safety strap.

“Wait, Kou! Why the fuck are we here?!” you panic. Sakusa, you, and Oikawa are both in an unstable relationship. Not romantically, okay! You are their damn victim! They’re not criminals, well closer to that! Those two are your bullies and they are friends with your best friend, Koutaro Bokuto!

He taps your temple and comforts you that everything will be fine, that you won’t be harmed while he’s around, “it’s Omi’s birthday. He invited us for lunch.”

You nod your head. There’s no point in arguing. You were already there. He has your sweating hand inside his palm when you both entered the house.

“Give me ten seconds, Kou.”

Sakusa’s house rule no. 1; leave your shoes outside but if you are his friends, go straight in.

You remove your sneakers and leave your white socks on. You have been there before and you almost familiarised yourself with his rules. Since he considers you as his enemy rather than his subject of bullying, you are not allowed to sit or touch anything inside his home so you remain standing near the stairs when Bokuto runs to Oikawa in the kitchen.

You give Sakusa a nod as he descends from the top landing. He smells clean and fruity tuitee and you couldn’t help but blush when you notice his stare goes down to your feet.

Your insides trembles from the intensity of his gaze and that makes you feel like running away or hide from his sight.

Your breathing halts when he kneels after removing his fur slippers. His warm hand grab your ankle then slide your left foot in his slipper, then your right foot.

He didn’t speak a word. He just pointed you to the kitchen. His footwear is too big for your small ones but you still manage to walk comfortably.

While helping in the food preparation, Sakusa and Oikawa are constantly bumping their muscular arms against your shoulders. They even teases you that you lack in the free access of healthy foods in the fridge in your own home that’s why you’re thin and small. You 𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒏'𝒕, okay?! They’re just huge and very athletic that developing muscles and all is no issue to them. And your case is different. Your height is 5'3", you weight right, meaning your body mass index is normal! Again, they are huge people and they look down on your kind. And these men prefers model-like body figures for women!

You let it all pass. You seem immune to all the teasings and soft pinches that those were no longer affecting you. Sakusa leads the way to his theater room, while you, Bokuto, and Oikawa are in charge of bringing all the foods in there.

There’s a long and wide white couch that looks like a king sized bed in the center and there’s also a big screen mounted on the wall. You settle on the lone chair in the viewing room, sit properly and try avoiding Sakusa’s intense gaze.

What? You did nothing to him!

The three men sits besides each other, Oikawa scrolls on the menu of which genre of movies to watch, Bokuto starts picking up some tarts and chews it. And then, there’s still him, Sakusa! Staring at you!

“Hand her over, Koutaro.” your face turn pale when Sakusa pulls his shirt off his body and leans on the couch.

You couldn’t find the will to speak. You stoned on your seat. Bokuto whistles, inching closer to you. He cups your face and whispers soothing words.

“Wh–what is happening here, Kou?” you sound nervous. Bokuto brings you closer to Sakusa. You grab onto your best friend’s arms. “Koutaro... ” a breathe of panic.

“You are his present to me, Y/N. You’re the desserts.” Sakusa pulls you down on his lap, he breathes closer to your hair. Something is growing in between his thighs. You look so scared. He gets even aroused.

“wanna rub my tongue on his pussy, Koutaro,” Oikawa moves closer, too, licking his lips.

“I’m... I’m not—” Oikawa stops you from talking, taking your chin in his hand. “You’re not what, Y/N?” he asks seductively.

“Kou–Kou... help me.” you hold onto his hand, giving him a scared look.

Sakusa tugs on your long hair before latching on your earlobe, “don’t worry, Y/N. Koutaro will help you. He will help you fuck yourself to sleep.”

And the talking ended there.

Oikawa snatches your face and slams his mouth on your opened ones, rolling out his tongue into you before brushing roughly his lips against your lips. Your both hands twitches, the kiss is electrifying. You try to pull away but he restrains you by gripping lightly your neck. You hear Sakusa laughs. He wraps his arms around your body, locking you in restrictions. Oikawa continues kissing you roughly that you can feel his warm saliva dripping from his mouth down to your chin. You didn’t respond to his kisses. You were in shocked. When he sucks on your lips and tongue, you didn’t recognise the moan that passed your lips.

“Undress her quickly!” still in a rush, Bokuto puts his words into action. He separates you from Oikawa’s mouth. You were panting when he pulls out your hoodie, showing your uncovered titsx in broad daylight. They look perfect and round and flushed. The three men growls, pouncing all at one on you. Bokuto has the right breast, Sakusa’s on the left and Oikawa, he moves between your legs, pushing your shorts to the side to take a good look on your rosy folds.

Oikawa licks the slit back and forth until it gets covered with his saliva. He chuckles when your body twitches. He dips his mouth again, flicking the tip of his tongue against your clitx while scratching your inner thighs. You moan loudly, arching your back again and again. Your moan matches the others’ moans and grunts. Both Sakusa and Bokuto are sucking on your titsx and they’re doing it like they’re milking on you. Swirling sharply their tongues and grazing their teeth on its softness. Damn. You didn’t even say yes to them!

Unknowingly, your mouth also salivates as well as your cunt being treated like a meal by Oikawa’s hot and needy mouth. He’s swirling his tongue and he’s sucking you there so noisily.

“Tooru~” you moan his name when he starts pumping digits into you while his thumb is pressing hard on your clitx. Your legs stretches up and down whenever his fingers goes deeper and harder and at the same time, circling his knuckles hard as well on your cunt. He makes you drip like crazy and it’s evident on your oozing core and salivating mouth. He laughs triumphantly, giving you the best finger fuck and tongue fuck. Your body convulses when you come in waves, the two men abandons your chest to join Oikawa slurping your first and rich orgasm.

They pushes your legs up and there are three long and thick tongues slurping and licking your tight pussy that still waves down thick juices. You find support by grabbing on the edges while you were being worshipped by their mouths. A squeal escapes your lips when you feel someone’s tongue poking your anusx.

When they finished, Oikawa pulls you near the edge and kneels in front of your head hanging by on the ends. He’s the first one to get fully naked before Sakusa and Bokuto.

“Kou~” your eyes waters, not in fear but in excitement and other unnamed feelings.

Sakusa goes below you, putting your small body on top of his own while slowly inserting his fat cockx in your tight pussy. You let out a yelp when his balls bumps on your opening. He’s deep inside you!

“Sakusa hnngggg~ sooo deeeppp haaahhh!” you grip his arm that locks your head beside his by putting it tight around your neck. You struggle to breathe properly so you gasp for air. His other hand goes to your stuffed cunt and slaps your folds harshly until he hears you sob and cry.

“Enough, Omi, she’s sore already.” Bokuto slaps Sakusa’s hand away and replaces it by his own, giving soft touches and light kisses.

“Hmm~ Kou... Kou... ” you cry his name, grabbing his hand toward your mouth. You kiss his fingertips and suck on them later. Earning soft moans and heavy breathes from him.

Bokuto takes his hand from your grasp and gives you slow and sensual kiss on your lips. You feel Sakusa inching his length out but you give no enough attention to it. What matters now is how Bokuto kisses your numb lips. He’s good and it feels good.

Your dear friend ends the kiss but not his finger work on your clitx. He’s rubbing it softly.

“My turn baby doll.” you almost forgot about him. Oikawa kisses you again and what he does next surprised you. He shoves his cockx in your mouth, all the way down to your throat. You gag at how big he is but you can’t do anything to remove it not now that he starts moving in and out.

Your moans gets dissolved by Oikawa’s rough fucking inside your mouth. He moans louder than you and his friends and you feel like doing the same so you cooperate with him, sucking him in while he fucks his length harder to your throat.

Down to the remaining men, Sakusa has been hammering your tight cunt with his massive cockx and swear! Your eyes widened when Bokuto positions his big cock head to where Sakusa’s fat one is inserted.

You put your free hand on his abdomen when he hovers over you, slowly joining his friend’s dick into party.

No, Koutaro! You’re gonna rip me with your cockx!

But he didn’t stop. He slides his fat member into your stretched core! Stretching it even wider with Sakusa’s!

Oikawa moans louder and louder and he even dirty talks while spurting his thick loads in your mouth. You gag on it and you do nothing but swallow it all.

When it’s your turn to moan and scream, you give all your best in doing it because fuck, it’s hurt having two fat and long shafts inside your cunt. So you moan and cry and then repeat while ramming themselves into you. Your body shakes and your lips quivers and they huffs and pants and slams their hips until you bleed thick and rich heat again, covering their cocks with your juice and their sperms.

Bokuto and Sakusa only pulls out when they empty all of their loads inside you.

It’s not over, Oikawa pulls you and folds you in mating press, inserting his hard cockx into your leaking hole, pumping faster while kissing your roughly again. He does it again. The rough and deep pumping. The rough kisses that leaves your lips swollen and numb.

“Tooruuu aahhnnggg~ hmmppp~” you shake your head, he’s using you so rough. You can feel the weight of every thrust and you wish for it to be over.

Again, it’s not over even after he cum inside you. He flips you on your stomach, pushing his cockx back inside you. He pounds you harder from behind, groping your chest before slapping your ass as he keeps pounding. You cry. And cry. And cry.

Three times. Oikawa cums inside you three times before handing you back to Sakusa who chooses to fuck you ass up, too.

“Not today, Omi. Her parents would notice. She comes home every weekends.” Bokuto advises his friend when Sakusa put his tip on your anusx.

Sakusa spits on his length and on your anusx, “okay, I won’t anal fuck her hmm~” he says but does it anyway.

He shoves right there! Sliding his full length inside your ass. You let out a loud cry and sob hard. Sakusa laughs. Oikawa, too. Bokuto attends to you and takes your both hands, drawing circles at the back of your hand he’s gripping tightly.

“Kou... Kou... it hurts, please, Kou... ” you cry while holding hands with your best friend.

Sakusa starts grinding his hips against your and that makes you feel the very pain of being analed. Bokuto didn’t leave you. He keeps holding your hand while Sakusa pounds you senselessly, almost adhering you deep against the softness of the couch.

“Ssshhh, baby~ you can take him~ you’ll feel good.” you focus on his words while endurimg Sakusa’s rough thrusts.

“Kou—” you were cut mid sentence. Sakusa pulls you away from Bokuto, flipping you on your back again to face him.

You can feel his loads dripping from your assholex but he’s not done yet. He separates your legs and dips between your thighs, pushing his shaft back.

You wince in pain when he slaps your swollen folds. You tell him it hurts with tears in your eyes but he just smiled. Slapping for the last time before rocking you again and this time, claiming your lips. He kisses expertly and you find yourself returning his kiss even though your lips hurts.

“Omi... ” you cry his name softly and that stuns him for seconds, watching your face contorts in beautiful pleasure. He sees something different in you in that state so he rocks you deep but slow this time, kissing your chin down to your neck and moments later, he’s shooting his loads inside you while still kissing you slowly.

Once again, that moment isn’t over yet, Bokuto takes you inside his arms and brings you in the backyard where there is a inflatable pool set up near the wooden fence.

The sun is up and so is his cockx.

He puts your nakedness in the cold water and slow fuck you there but bruising your whole body with his deep bites and tight grips. He pushes the hair strands that covers your face while ramming himself into you. He looks at you softly and he notices your puffy eyes from all the crying.

“You good, baby?” his voice is gentle so you smile, nodding your head until it slowly falls down backwards. You feel drained and you can’t keep with his deep rumblings while moving up and down on his lap.

He catches your head on time, eyes fluttering from being overworked.

“Kou, I like you. I lied when I say it’s Omi.” you confess before closing your eyes.

Bokuto does your job, he moves your ass up and down his length even though you fell asleep on him. As he shoots his loads inside, he says this, “but Omi found you first, Y/N. He’s afraid to tell you his feelings so he finds another way to get close to you. By bullying you, he gets closer and closer. I just jumped in the scene and befriended you. I like you, too, Y/N. But he likes you first. So, you are his.”

But, you didn’t hear it. You were too tired to fight against the need to sleep.

Two hours later...

You were in the backseat, straddling on Sakusa’s laps, his cockx installed inside your creaming cunt while holding you tight as he kisses your lips torridly.

On your way home,

Bokuto drives the car.

While Sakusa is fucking you mercilessly in the backseat.

With all the bruises and marks of ownership, there’s no doubt you are his.

You are Kiyoomi Sakusa’s property.

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kemakoshume · 3 years ago

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「𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕪𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕣𝕦𝕝𝕖𝕤」 (bokuto x f!reader)᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘᠃ a/n; i wrote this to procrastinate from writing my other chaptered fics :'D i get overwhelmed with how much i wanna add to ch fics so i needed a crack fic break. enjoy! xox // network tag(s): @anime-central <3 @hanayanetwork <3 @hqintheclub warnings; actually more suggestive than nsfw i guess but minors DNI anyway. crack, frats/sororities, mentions of sex but no like big sex scene (imma be honest with y'all... i rly didn't feel like writing one just for the sake of having it in here lmao sry), choking... gone wrong (but no one dies). time skip spoilers (names of new members and teams and stuff) — sakuatsu & kagehina are in this [3.4k words] ~

There were originally three rules in the Sigma Phi Epsilon fraternity house:

Uphold the fraternity standards & bylaws* and hold your brothers accountable to these standards.

Honor the assigned quiet hours, chore wheels, & don’t enter people’s private spaces without asking. In summary: keep your shit clean and don’t be a dick.

A. School — stay at least part-time in your credit hours, keep up with whatever PhysEd major you’re taking, and keep your GPA above a 3.0; if you need any help studying please for the love of god speak up. B. Sports — Stay active in a team partnered with the Fédération Internationale de Volleyball (obviously MSBY—if you made it this year—go Jackals), or an accredited team in your sport of choice.

*Except for the bylaws about drinking. Fuck that noise. We’re all adults & we’re getting smashed.

Then, due to some extraneous circumstances, the executives had to add two more:

*** Per our landlord (yes she included the bold and all caps): “KEEP THE FUCKING TO A MINIMUM.” Apparently, our lovely Sigma Chi neighbors can hear us & we’re disrupting their quiet hours, so make it hard for us to know that you’re doing it if you’re doing it. Also, not a house rule just a moral reminder: consent is key gentlemen.

Please refrain from breaking the beds and/or bed frames (or shower doors, Atsumu). They’re expensive.

*Partners are still allowed, just be quieter if you can help it.

You and your boyfriend have some issues navigating the new additions.

Bokuto has been a member of Sigma Phi for about a year now. He’s been your boyfriend for about six months. Six long months that proceeded three months of “courting,” as your sorority house mom and your sorority president, Alisa, had put it—all of which culminated in lots and lots of raucous, euphoric, occasionally ethically questionable, noise-complaint inducing sex.

It was officially time for you, amongst some others, to pay the piper for that.

“Alright guys, thank you all for coming down. I asked both you and your partners here today to go over some changes to the house rules; since some of them also involve you ladies, and gentlemen—hello Kageyama, congrats on your team’s win last Friday—it seems right to have you all here for this at once. Plus, you’re normally here anyway so why not.” Meian walks to the side of the couch, changing the slide on the projector screen illuminating the blank white wall of the living room to the ‘Da Rules’ section.

“So, as you can see, we have two new rules on top of the old ones. Read them yourself—let me know if there are any questions after you do.”

You looked up at the screen, scanning your eyes over the words on the slide carefully to make sure you understood exactly what the fraternity president was saying via the changes. Bokuto sat next to you, his fingers slotted into yours. All of the other members of his fraternity, both single and non, gathered around you scrambled and laid across the living room furniture. Those that weren’t single had their partners cozied up to their sides as well, looking much like you and your own boyfriend did.

A few faces around you furrowed, including yours and Bokuto’s, as everyone finished reading the slide in full.

“Wait… so we can’t have sex here anymore?” Atsumu speaks up, cuddled underneath Sakusa’s arm. “I thought that was only a stupid rule for the sorority houses, just like that sexist “no booze for them but it’s okay for us” bullshit. When did this happen?”

His question is followed by a wave of voices all filling the space asking similar questions. With the better part of forty-odd people in the room, it’s almost deafening for a moment. “Oh my god, shut up,” Meian says, his temperate voice loud even without needing to yell. He began rubbing roughly at his temples. “Did none of you read the asterisk for the sex part? It literally says right here that ‘Partners are still allowed, just be quieter if you can help it.’ Okay?” the leader says, looking around the room for objections. All he sees is the dejected look of newly minted adults back.

You look up at Bokuto, batting your lashes softly in very visible disappointment. It wasn’t like you needed to be loud, you just couldn’t help it. He fucked you too good to not make noise; sure, there were ways to mitigate it, but having the option to be vocal for him all but taken away from you, solely because your other sorority sisters—give or take a few—were fucking lame, was not it.

“I’ll go over there and give my dear sisters a fat kiss with my knuckles,” you speak up, gritting your teeth. “Think that would solve their issues?”

The few girls in the room that you know from your own greek life nod, mischief painted on their faces just like it was on yours.

Meian sighs, “Look, we have to be respectful of our neighbors. Some of which house quite a few of you lovely ladies sitting here right now, so if you have an issue with the noise complaints, plural, then take it up with your Sigma Chi sisters, sans violence, and your house mom. Have fun with that argument when she makes you take it up with your executive board. I’d love to see how hard you push back on this if it comes to that.”

Atsumu groaned, throwing his head back against the couch with his hands rubbing at his eyes, rocking back into an upright position with his elbows on his knees.

“It just doesn’t make sense,” he says, talking more so out loud and to the rest of you than at the president. “We pay almost two-grand a year, each, to be in this frat and live in this house, not even including the day-to-day money stuff—and you’re telling me I can’t fuck my boyfriend as loud as I want behind my own closed doors? Please.”

“Ha,” Inunaki scoffs, chuckling to himself, “nice to finally get confirmation that Ku is the receiver there. Never would’ve guessed. You both sound like you’re taking it with how loud you are Tsumu.”

The twin scowls at the libero, his fingers twitching to flick the upperclassman in the center of his forehead. He relents, knowing that the older man could beat his ass if he tried. His years of training by fighting his brother would amount to nothing.

Bokuto clears his throat, sitting up straighter in his seat to address the chapter president. “So, not to be a dick about it but, uh, Atsumu has a point. We do pay to be here. We all follow the chapter rules, and besides, it’s not our fault the Chi girls—well, the other Sigma Chi girls, can’t hang. We don’t bitch about it when they have trivia night over there and scream shit about physics and mammals or whatever all night. Why do they get to tell us what to do in the privacy of our bedrooms?”

You nod along, jutting out your chin indignantly. You had plenty of love for your sorority and your sisters, but you were stifled enough within the insanely strict, explicitly sexist, utterly infuriating greek life bylaws that only seemed to affect the sororities, but not the fraternities somehow (even though they—other frats, not your boyfriend’s—were the ones that tended to be the cause of national news level scandals). Making the trek across the lawn to shack up in Bokuto’s bedroom was a whole different sea of freedom and opportunity that you just weren’t afforded as a sorer.

Paying money to be parented by a greek life system that didn’t understand that women could handle themselves with freedom, and to now have your freedoms oppressed even further in a house your boyfriend paid to keep running… man, fuck that. You joined greek life for the parties, the networking opportunities, and the community. You didn’t join for this shit.

Meian sighs, turning off the projector and flipping on the lights. He comes around the couch to sit on the arm, looking at all of you scattered around the large room. “Well, that’s the issue. The doors are closed, but the windows aren’t. Also, the walls are shit, the pipes carry noise outside, and all of you sound like you’re auditioning for America’s Next Top Pornstar during the weekends, and during the week in between practices—hello, again, Kageyama.”

The man shakes his head, sinking into his seat where Hinata is wrapped around him like a koala, grumbling something under his breath.

“Look, point-blank, keep the noise to a minimum, at least during the week. This isn’t just coming from me, we had a whole exec board meeting over this, and the landlord can and will kick us out of here if there are too many noise complaints filed on us with the city. Do you wanna go back to living in dorm rooms? Because I don’t. So, suck it up,” he says, a sense of finality in his tone. “You’re all dismissed.”

With that, the president leaves—stalking his way out of the backdoor and down the stone-step pathway out to the small man-made lake behind the fraternity house.

You all look around at each other in the room, small groans and whines coming from almost everyone in the space; well, those with dedicated partners at least.

“Well, sucks to be you guys,” Adriah said, lifting himself off of the floor. “Looks like there is more than one benefit to fucking older women that have their shit together already. See ya!”

He left as well, along with most of all the other single members of the frat. The rest of you loitered around the living room, talking and bitching about things amongst yourselves.

“I wonder if this whole thing will be on a recycle strike system like the other behavior-based rules,” Bokuto said, pulling you into his lap as you moved to sit on the floor. “Like… you can fuck up three times before getting your shit fucked but the strikes refresh every ninety days or whatever.”

A few of the boys hummed, some moving around the room picking up little trash things off the floor, while a few others handed beers around to those who wanted one.

“It might be,” Hinata said, his hair squashed by the weight of Kageyama’s chin resting on the crown of his head. “But, Meian probably won’t clarify until one of us breaks the rule so we can’t try to abuse the strikes beforehand. Fuck, he’s an evil genius.”

Inunaki chuckles, making his way across the room to go out the back exit door. “I don’t see why you’re all already trying to skirt around this one rule so hard. The board didn’t make this decision lightly; we know you’re all adults and deserve to have fun, but you did sign on and agree to rule changes, and at the end of the day this wasn’t really up to any of the admin. Just experiment with fuckin’ ball gags and embrace the wondrous world of asphyxiation or something if you really can’t keep it down—just, be careful! Be safe, don’t die.” The treasurer opened the door, only getting halfway out before he turned around again. “Just saying, you don’t have to alert the whole neighborhood that you’re fucking to prove to each other that it’s good! I promise.”

With that, he leaves, and you slump against Bokuto’s chest. Twiddling your thumbs together as you let your throats roam; pondering the older man’s words as you sit in their wake.

Choking. You’d never done that. What better time to try it?

“Hey Bo,” you whisper, turning in your boyfriend’s lap to whisper in his ear, “I think Shion might be on to something. Wanna go to your room for a little bit before dinner? Try some things out? Maybe… Youtube some stuff, watch some visual examples?”

His eyes darken to a medallion gold, looking down at you. He slides his hand along your jaw, gripping your face lightly to pull you into a mildly heated kiss. Through the slight daze of being kissed breathlessly by your partner, you do manage to note the sound of other kisses being shared in the room.

Looks like you’re all on the same page.

Bokuto breaks the kiss, his hand already underneath your shirt, caressing the smooth skin of your soft tummy. “Hey guys, we’re gonna—” he said, stopping in his verbal tracks as he looked over to see nearly every couple left in the room making their way off to separate corners of the house—some even opting to go outside. The quickly approaching darkness of early-winter nightfall and the glorious lack of summer bugs made it easy to have some fun outdoors as well.

Looks like you all were really on the same page.

Bokuto stood the two of you up, grabbing your hand to lead you up the side staircase to his upper floor bedroom. The only two left in the room after you’d gone were Atsumu and Sakusa, holding each other in their arms as they kissed and cuddled around the kitchen.

You pretended not to see Atsumu dipping down to balance on his heels in front of his boyfriend as you ascended the stairs.

So, Youtube does in fact not have all the answers. Porn, even less so.

A little protip in case you needed confirmation on this: having your boyfriend—your boyfriend with no pro-dom experience—choke you to keep you quiet during sex… not a great idea. Even with both written and visual examples under your belt on how to do the thing, experimenting with heavier dominant aspects of sex is always best taught slowly, and by a professional.

You did not do things slowly or watch anything that came from a professional.

You can hear your boyfriend panicking, running next door into Hinata’s room with insane urgency. Though, despite how his panic may have made things seem, you were actually fine. You felt the slightest soreness blooming around your neck— where his hands had just been—and from his yelling pre-bolting out of the room you could tell your lips had the slightest tinge of blue developing on them, but you were actually breathing completely fine; the oxygen just needed a moment to fully flood back into your brain and up through to the surface of your skin.

Five more minutes of that and then maybe things would be a different story. Though Bokuto, understandably, thought he had accidentally murdered you, despite seeing your eyes open and responsive.

“Help! She… I think she’s hurt, and—fuck, less important detail but I’m gonna go to fucking jail!”

You chuckle as you hear him running door to door, asking for someone, anyone of his roommates to come help, and to call the emergency services line. You feel the subspace—the little elevation of epinephrine, endorphins, and enkephalins in your brain—beginning to alleviate itself a bit as you manage to sit up in bed, draping a blanket across your body to cover up, sipping at the water he had sitting on his bedside table when he launches himself back into his bedroom, tears running down his incredibly handsome, perfectly himbo-ish, face.

“Baby!” he yells, dropping to his knees and wrapping his arms around your waist. His head is laid against your boobs, sobbing uncontrollably into your chest.

“Honey,” you say back, giggling as he continues with his tears. “Why are you crying?”

He sobs harder at your question, squeezing you just a bit tighter. Before he can answer, a few of his roommates come barreling into the room with an emergency worker in tow as they practically push the man into the bedroom. You can hear the sounds of basically everyone in the house running around trying to be of some assistance in the background.

“Hi,” the paramedic says, his voice soft and sweet, “My name’s Kenjiro. I’m just gonna take a look at you really quickly if that’s okay. Please remove the grown man from your front side and take off your bracelet for me please.”

Bokuto very reluctantly moves out of the way, sitting at the end of the bed by your feet as the healthcare professional starts to measure your vitals.

“So, can you tell me what happened in your own words,” he asks you, his eyes noticeably looking above your head to the slight indents forming in the wall from the (now cracked) headboard smacking against it—despite the little blocks you’d put in place to keep it from doing that.

You run through the tale of the evening, your cheeks and chest blooming with heat as you notice the small group of boys still standing outside of the room—some just standing ideally around while some are on the phone, and a few speak to the other paramedic that had come by as backup.

“I’m fine, honestly!” you say, your voice lower than normal from the strain you’d allowed your boyfriend to put on it. “We just tried something new and it didn’t exactly go as planned.”

“Something, meaning asphyxiation?” the paramedic asks, his face looking subtly smug. He places a blood pressure cuff on your arm, starting up the device as he puts a little clamp on the tip of your finger.

“Yes, that. I got a little… out of it, and didn’t tell him to stop when I got dizzy and I guess I was still making noise so he didn’t notice, and… yeah. Totally consensual, if that’s what you’re worried about. We’re just stupid and got a little carried away.”

The man chuckles, looking over at your boyfriend who’s three shades paler than he normally would be and looking like the human personification of anxiety.

“Well, that’s good. I don’t see anything that would allude to any unsavory actions. Nothing’s broken, you’re able to speak to me just fine, and your levels are back up. So, I think that’s all from me. Just be more careful next time. Maybe shelve the kinky stuff until you’ve researched it more.”

You slump against the pillows nestled behind your back in Bokuto’s bed as the healthcare team leaves, leaving only you and Bokuto—and all of his frat brothers—in the home.

“So, she’s fine?” Hinata quips, shirtless with messy hair that presumably meant you’d interrupted their fun. Atsumu comes up the stairs leading to your room two at a time, Sakusa close behind as he asks much of the same.

Bokuto explains for you that things are fine, and you both apologize for making everyone worry.

“Well, good. Meian and Inunaki both do know about this now though, so just FYI… I’d expect a little meeting about this later.”

You both nod, sighing and sinking into the sheets together again as the men all scatter back to their own little corners of the house, leaving you two to the silence of his room.

“Maybe we should stick to the ball gag idea next time,” you say, mischief clear in your eyes as you cuddle your boyfriend.

He chuckles, pulling you onto his chest to kiss every part of your face. “Not a chance in hell on that one.”

So, fast forward two days, and a lot of security camera footage review, later—the Sigma Phi Epsilon fraternity house has three more new rules.

6. From now on, you break it, you buy it. No more sponsor money will be allocated towards sex-related property damage.

7. The rooms will be soundproofed on Saturday. Obviously having sex quietly & not causing bodily injury is too hard for you for some reason, so we’re making it easier on you. Once the soundproofing is done, no more sex outside of your soundproofed rooms; not in the bathrooms, not in the backyard, not in the kitchen… you gross little heathens. Also, a reminder: close your windows and the blinds before you do it. The elders that walk the campus for exercise can see you & they have complained.

8. No more almost murder in the frat house. My heart can’t take this.

And all any of you could say in return was, "yeah, we deserved this.”

yaaay that was that. a little mental break from working on my chaptered fics bc they're all becoming their own little beasts. i crossposted this on ao3 — bookmark it if you'd like to have it in case something ever happens to this blog (god forbid). tyty for reading xox

#bokuto x reader #bokuto x chubby reader #bokuto x you #bokuto smut #crack fic #hanaya network #hqintheclub #kk.writes #kk.middleground #kk.haikyuu #time skip spoilers #hq timeskip #hq timeskip spoilers #pls dont flop

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tsunderedoctor · 3 years ago

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Hello! I hope you're having wonderful day or night! I also wanted to say I really enjoy your writing and that you are very talented!

Before I even request anything, let's do the regular health check! Drinking enough water? Getting enough sleep(it doesn't have to be at night, just the usual 6-8hrs)? Taking regular showers and other normal hygiene?

Now go into the mirror and remind yourself you're a bad b*tch and ain't nobody gonna tell you otherwise!

I wanted to request a headcanon of Marco, Shanks, Sabo, and Luffy catching their fem! s/o staring at a huge wedding dress display in a wedding shop on an island with a solemn smile. Because while she loves them, she wonders if they'll ever have the chance to get married and walk down the aisle like she's always dreamed of during her childhood. Maybe even start becoming a little distant towards them become she doesn't want to be seen as greedy for wanting one. Because she knows that if she gets a wedding then she'll start wanting to start a family and that wouldn't be good for either of them. Considering it was already hard for them to start dating due to being a pirate/revolutionary and always on the run from the marines.

Thank you for your support and kind words!! (I will do my best to remind myself that, but I will probably be the one to tell me otherwise)

I did write a prompt very similar to this one with Marco and Sabo, you can check it out here, so I will only be doing Shanks and Luffy, hope that's okay!

Babes Below~!

“Red Hair” Shanks

Shanks always wants to feel the rush of the sea, he enjoys the way the waves cascade through to the land, forever enticing him to follow after them. In his most recent years, he was able to meet another enticing creature, someone that helped ground his roots to the land, leaving him confused on what he wanted from the world.

That creature now was looking innocently at a wedding dress prompted on display at a clothing boutique, not even realizing his eyes were on you. Walking over to your hypnotized form, he nodded to himself in approval, the dress sure was pretty.

“Let’s go try it on.”

Hearing his words brought you out of your stupor, and confusion met his calm smile. He wasn’t serious, was he? Feeling your heart race at his words, you turned back to the dress and nodded, a blush covering you face that could outmatch his hair.

Chuckling, he opened the boutique door and headed inside, he mused that it was your turn now to make a decision, were you willing to ground yourself to the ground with his roots too?

Monkey D. Luffy

He’s seen that far off look before many times, mostly from himself. Noticing you weren’t responding to him anymore, he had turned to face you, only to find that look as you stared at some wedding gown. He didn’t personally understand the whole deal with weddings, never been to one to get an idea of what they represent, but you seemed to like it.

As you two finally left and made your way back to the ship, the brunet began to pester you with questions.

“What’s so important about a wedding anyway? Is it like a birthday party?”

Giggling a bit at his naïve question, you explained the gist of what a wedding was, what you do when you attend one, and how the party usually goes. He seemed more interested as you continued to explain the philosophy behind why people got married. Knotting his brows in thought, he hummed out an approval sound.

“Okay we’ll get married then.”

“What?”

“I want to be with you forever, and if I have to do this wedding thing to show it, then so be it, besides, it will be a feast to remember!”

His signature smile returned as he took your hand in his, promising you in a silent way you won’t regret marrying this man.

Tag List: @chloe-nanami @musical-apple @luxiditea @macdonaldsmanager @onepieceya @undercoverweeeb @pebbsie @athenaportgas @my-one-piece-experience @iam-gaaras-loveintrest @nephytale and whoever else wants to join in!

#tsunderedoctor #ask #red hair shanks #red haired shanks #akagami no shanks #shanks #shanks one piece #monkey d. luffy #monkey d luffy #monkey d. luffy x reader #monkey d luffy x reader #luffy x reader #one piece #one piece scenarios

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ragnarachael · 3 years ago

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Take It From The Top — Chapter 3

Paring: Guitarist!Loki x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 7,286 (IT’S SO MUCH)

Summary: Usually your days are boring, but not since this group have been coming in and brightening up your shifts. They have a little band together and gush about it as much as they can when you're serving them. You can feel some chemistry with Loki, and start talking with him more and more once he's frequenting the restaurant alone.One day, finally, Loki—the bands (hot) guitarist—invites you to one of their shows on your day off. And you're not going to turn him down, are you?

Warnings: loki playing the guitar. that’s. too hot. just so we all know. and semi naughty thoughts on your end—he’s hot, guys. flirting unadulterated? i guess? loki’s a dreamboat. that’s it. that’s all.

Notes: yes rachael DID pick a brian may hand gif for this. he’s why guitarist loki is what it is. sue me. ANYWAYS IT’S THE END! I AM SAD! BUT FIC TWO OF THIS SERIES IS IN PROGRESS! i hope u love this so far!!! bc i’m obsessed with it!!!! please don’t be shy and feel free to yell with me all you want

Tag List (if you want to be tagged in stuff like this or any future works, join my taglist here!): @mushroomlupin @miniminwriting @mariahlaufeyson @lam-ila @a-lonely-grey-couch @sineads-art @rosaline-black

F E E D B A C K! | A O 3 L I N K! | T A G L I S T L I N K

The rest of the week seemed to drag on as you waited for your days off to come. Besides working, trying to be a normal human being as you work these horrendously long shifts, you try to keep your mind off of the fact Loki almost wrote down it’s a date.

It was a date that was intended not to seem like one, you assumed.

How the fuck do you dress for that?

“I mean,” Helen starts, on your phone via FaceTime call the day of the not-date-date. “Preferably something cute, but not obviously screaming it’s a date fit.”

“What the hell does that mean?” You question loudly from your closet. “Also, did we agree on the ripped skinny jeans?”

“Yes we did!” She exclaims. “And you’ll understand that when you’re older and get more dates.”

“We are the same age, Helen.”

The silence that fell over the two of you was comfortable before Helen starting laughing. “Whatever. So, ripped jeans. What shirt options do we have?”

“Uh,” you start, going through your shirts in the closet. “Band tees? A few tanktops, I got this cute crop top a few nights ago—“

“Do you have that one you wore out for drinks with Isaac and I a few months ago?”

“What one? The REO Speedwagon one?”

Helen was silent before huffing, waving a single hand around. “Whatever one has all those pre-made cuts and holes and shit.”

“Ah, the Metallica one,” you answer. “I’ve got it, yeah.”

“That,” Helen replies. “Wear that! It makes you look hot.”

You smile sheepishly, fishing through more shirts to find what you’re both talking about. You’ve been digging for almost an hour trying to find a decent outfit.

It may not be a date, but you want to at least look good enough to actually be asked on one, to your face.

“Did you and Henry have a good date night last night?” You ask after finding your shirt and throwing it on over your black bralette.

“Yeah! It was nice, we went to this karaoke bar. He’s a horrific singer, obviously.”

You laughed, walking over to your bed where your jeans lay. “Don’t hurt his heart by saying that, he seems like a good kid.”

“He is! He just can’t sing for fuck all.”

The two of you share laughter as you pull your jeans on so you can both judge the final outfit before deciding on it. “I’m telling him you said that the next time I see him.”

“You bitch!”

“I’ll be sure he pelts books at you, bestie,” you say, letting your voice rise in volume for dramatics as you grab your phone to peek up in the view finder, cooing when you see Helen’s dog in her shot. “Ooh my god! Is that Blackjack?”

“No, it’s some random plush I got at this thrift store—”

“Hi Blackjack!” You exclaim excitedly, ignoring Helen’s words completely before squealing quietly when he looks at the camera. “Hi, buddy! How are you? Is momma being a meanie?”

“Hey! Don’t brainwash my kid!” Helen whines, trying to cover Blackjack’s eyes from her phone. But he’s still getting excited to see your face.

“Blackjack, do you wanna stay with me while your momma gets it on with the bookstore worker?” You coo in an even more annoying tone over the phone as you walk over to your full length mirror.

“His momma is about ready to hang up on her friend if she’s gonna throw her under the bus like this,” Helen says, huffing. You laugh fondly, finally relenting as Blackjack replies with a little bark.

“I’m sorry, it’s just fun to do that.”

“If you and Loki end up getting together and get a pet for a child, I’m making your life hell.”

You find your face heating up at her words and opt to switch the camera around to show your mostly completely outfit in your mirror.

“Anyways,” you say, clearing your throat, “what do we think? Does this work?”

“Oh, yes,” Helen purrs through the phone. You laugh at her reaction, doing little poses which only entices her to cheer more. “I would call this date if I were him. You’re hot.”

“And you’re bisexual, of course you would say that.”

“Says you. You know you’re looking in a mirror, right? Bisexual help bisexual—“

You cut her off by laughing. “I’m a failed bisexual, no sex has shown attraction to me in years, and even then I couldn’t seem to make a move.”

“Hey, you still tried your best! It’s alright, now you’ve got this hot guitarist coming for you,” Helen explains as you flip the camera on your phone back to your face. “And, hey. If it works out? Imagine the tour sex—“

“Helen!”

“What! I know you haven’t ever, but still! I know what’s in those bedside drawers!”

You’re trying to hold back your laughter as you land back on your bed, head on your pillows as you keep your outfit on for the show. “Yeah, yeah, moving on.”

“For now, sure,” Helen finishes, chuckling at your reply. The two of you relax in comfortable silence. Occasionally Blackjack makes some snoring noises or small, tiny barks.

“What if tonight sucks? The band could be shit.”

“I don’t think it would be if they got a pub to basically have them perform on Saturdays. And if the guitarist is hot, wouldn’t you think the rest of ’em are?”

“Compelling argument.” You take a breath before letting out a small sigh. “Their vocalist is hot.”

“Oh?” Helen perks up, tilting her head. “Which was that at your booth?”

“The woman in the corner, Brunn.”

“That’s….so true.”

You snort, sitting up suddenly. “You literally saw her once or twice, Helen.”

“Still hot!”

“Okay, okay, I gotta get my stuff and go if I wanna be on time, we can argue over their hotness as a band later.”

Helen whines dramatically on her end as you watch her and her dog fondly start to whine together. You’re thankful for Helen, especially at this moment. You don’t think you could go to anyone else about all of this, and you’re happy she’s just here with you in it.

“I love you.”

Helen coos. “I love you too! Now go kiss hot guitar man.”

“Literally a not-first-date-date but okay,” you quip, a wide smile on your face before you’re waving through the screen and saying goodbye properly, talking in puppy-speak for Blackjack before the FaceTime call is over, and you’re stuck looking at yourself in the viewfinder of your phone’s app.

You sigh to yourself before closing the app and tossing your phone on the bed next to you. In your head, you’re figuring out the best route to get to the pub The Revengers were going to be at, all while spontaneously deciding to add a little makeup to your look. It was really only some light eye makeup, and a tiny, tiny dash of red lipstick just to have more than black with the rest of your outfit.

However, this made you have to rush to get your shoes on, as well as grabbing your keys and wallet so you could leave your bag at home. Thankfully, traffic was light as you listened to your phone guiding you through the streets, and the only problem you had was finding the extra parking for The Queen’s Pub in the back lot. You didn’t expect the pub to be so packed.

But it was almost out of spots. And it was just turning 6.

Maybe The Revengers wouldn’t be bad as your anxiety thought it would be.

Walking into Queen’s Pub is…nice. It’s got a nice industrial vibe to it, high ceilings with exposed scaffoldings and ventilation pipes, tables scattered around the spacious ballroom-like floor. The front half has lost a good chunk of tables and seats though, due to the main stage that’s farther into the building to give a makeshift pit as if it were a proper concert venue.

To your left as you make your way in, past a small pod of people near the entryway, is an expansive bar. It’s well lit with LEDs it seems, and it looks like they have every liquor known to man.

“Hi! Welcome in!” One of the younger bartenders exclaims as they shake a drink to perfection. You smile and nod their way, just now realizing how many people were actually inside.

The cars didn’t do it justice.

All the seats were occupied, and people were standing together in small pods in the makeshift pit, around the edges of the stage. The energy was electric, and you knew everyone was here for the band that was due to play here soon.

You elect to bypass the bar for now, and make your way to the front to get a good spot to watch the band. Loki said to be here at 6 sharp, so you’re unsure if that means they’re to play soon or not.

Since everyone is just simply chatting and bouncing around to conversation, you’re basically at the edge of the stage, which you found pretty cool. And, at least Loki will know you didn’t dip. From here you noticed the front drum had the bands name on it, The Revengers.

The decal is centered, but the word the is positioned more to the left, and revengers is leaning more to the right, the R just under the final E in the word before it. It’s an interesting choice, and a pretty decent quality decal from what you can see.

You decide to pull your eyes away from the drum and the stage, taking in the rest of the pub as you stand straight. You don’t want to magically make eye contact with anyone that happens to roam on the stage prior to this. You may just lose your mind with embarrassment.

Even though the pub is alive with chatter, you still hear what sounds like tuning from a bass and a guitar. You could only think that’s Loki and Bruce, it’s blatantly obvious considering the line up of the band.

Just as you tried to listen in to whatever else was happening backstage, you noticed a large wall towards where more seating was at a slightly lower level that as filled with some band memorabilia. Granted, you didn’t know what band or bands, but you make a mental note to look at it just as the amps hum to life, gaining your attention as well as the rest of the pub goers.

You’ve been to a few concerts, but never this close, nor this exciting for more than just you.

Everyone seems to know that cue, and come to the makeshift floor as a tall older man with a head full of greying curls come on stage with a wireless microphone.

“Hello folks!” He says happily into the microphone, not at all getting any interference from the everything that’s on the stage. “How’re we doing tonight?”

You cheer with the rest of the people, a smile working its way onto your face out of excitement.

“Good, good,” he continues, laughing. “Well, it’s Saturday, and we’ve got some good bands up tonight. But of course, it wouldn’t be a Saturday without The Revengers, now would it?”

Everyone around you cheers a little louder, and you can’t help but continue to cheer with them as this man warms the crowd up. He cheers with everyone, holding the mic away from his mouth before he’s turning to look back stage and laugh again, the mic going back to his mouth.

“Right! Okay, well. I won’t keep them any longer, they’re getting antsy back there. Ladies and gentlemen, Queen’s Pub is proud to present, The Revengers!”

You can’t describe the uproar the audience has once the man is off the stage once his microphone is placed on it’s stand and he’s walking to the wings of the stage, clapping Thor on the shoulder as he walks by. They’re all glowing. Not only from the stage lights, but their smiles are ginormous.

You should have attended a concert a lot sooner. Because seeing all four of The Revengers like this? It genuinely makes your heart swell, you can just tell how much they love this.

And they should. You hear how many people love them in this packed pub right now.

“Good evenin’ everybody,” Brunn says into the mic as everyone calms down. “Nice to see you’re not just here for Brian and his alcohol.”

“We’re here for that too!” A random voice in the audience yells that causes more laughter to erupt both from the audience and Brunn.

“Well, same here.” Brunn’s trying to find the person, as if she’ll know who it is before entirely giving up when Loki leans close to her and starts muttering as his hands plug in his guitar to his set amp perfectly without even looking.

Your eyes are immediately settled on him. He’s basically in front of you anyways, it’s hard to not notice anything. You spot his nails first and foremost, they’re painted. It looks like black polish, but you notice a twinge of another color when the lights hit it. You’ll have to ask when you see him after their set.

After that, it’s all downhill for you and your crush from there. He’s got the tightest pair of skinny jeans on that you see between him and his instrument as he and Brunn laugh before he’s walking back to his side of the stage. Paired with that, he’s got on the tightest tank top possible, his biceps seem to be bulging slightly, and you’re thankful that you haven’t got a drink on you right now because you would have choked on it.

Loki’s….god.

“So, we’re gonna start with a little cover from a little band called Queen, because Brian won’t shut up about it,” Brunn says, pausing only to let the cheering go up again before gaining control of the crowd, “I know I know! We love Revengers singing Queen, I know. After that we’ll just sing some new stuff we’ve been working on and then Cheerful Rangers will take good care of you all about an hour after you’ve all sobered up from us. Alright?”

Brunn had to love the audience reaction. She eggs them on like it’s her job. Which, in a way it is between her day shifts at some clothing store.

“Okay! Let’s go!”

Before the audience could react properly, Loki was already starting to play, expertly plucking the beginning to the unfamiliar song while Brunn turns around to converse with Thor quickly.

You wish you had more eyes than you do. The Revengers on stage as a group is like a well oiled machine. You don’t even know the song they’re playing at the moment, but they add their own spins on it, solos that sound longer than normal, and they’re just having fun.

It’s refreshing to see, and this is only the first song of the night.

Sure, it’s a song by Queen, but The Revengers claim it all as their own, just for tonight. Your eyes move from Brunn to Loki several times before you’re looking at Bruce and Thor jamming together in their own little world. You could watch this literally all night.

And Loki? God, Loki was a sight. Loki always made it seem like he belonged in any place he walked into once he was comfortable, but here, on the stage, he just oozed confidence. He just seemed to only get hotter not only through the song, but their entire set.

His hands just glide along his guitar as if he doesn’t even need to think much about it, yet his face is a mix of concentration and..well, you don’t want to admit it to yourself, but: sex.

It’s like he’s trying to make this sexual, and it’s making your mind go nuts.

You’re too focused in on Loki and his playing enough to forget that this is a concert and they just finished a song, so everyone is cheering. Thankfully, it’s loud, so you’re quick to snap out of the trance Loki’s set you in to clap and cheer along.

The rest of the concert after the Queen song goes exactly like it did the first time around. You’re watching Loki solely as he’s playing, you’re staring at his fingers, occasionally his face as he tilts his head up to his microphone to add backing vocals which also contribute to making you a puddle.

If you weren’t taken by Loki earlier this week, you certainly fucking were now.

Their set doesn’t last as long as you’re wishing it would. By the time they finish off their final song of the night, you’ve worked up a sweat by dancing with the rest of the small group you’ve gotten acquainted with at the front. It’s only when Brunn thanks the crowd for even bothering to show up before she’s leaving the stage do you realize The Revengers are done for the night, but Loki, Bruce, and Thor play on together for a little longer.

It’s like you’re watching a jam session, the way Bruce and Loki come together to stand near Thor’s drums and play what just sounds right before they cut their instruments off at the perfect time within each other and they wave goodbye as you and the rest of the crowd go wild.

The cheering goes on for a sliver more than you expect it to, and keeps going as you try to fight through some of the people to finally make it to the bar. Truthfully, you could leave after seeing Loki. You really saw no other reason to be here, considering you only wanted to see The Revengers in action.

And boy did you.

Once you made it onto the barstool at the nearly empty bar, the bartender that greeted you when you first entered the establishment comes over.

“Hey! What can I get started for you tonight?”

“Hi, uh,” you pause, trying to think of something you’d like to drink before just taking a breath and sighing. “I’m not really too sure. Something with vodka, I know that much. What would you recommend?”

The bartender smiles and nods. “Don’t worry about it, I got you. Do you like grapefruit?”

“I have no idea, but I’m willing to try,” you respond with a smile. The bartender nods before they’re off and making your drink. Once you know you’re not going to be asked any questions, you turn and look at the entire pub.

It’s significantly less full now. It’s pretty obvious most people were here for The Revengers and them alone. And truthfully, even if you’re biased, you don’t blame them.

But still, you felt a little bad for however many bands there are after this.

“Did you have the uh,” a familiar voice asks from behind the bar, “I don’t remember the bloody name of this thing, but it’s got grapefruit in it?”

You turn around to be met with the grey haired man who introduced the band earlier in the evening. “Yeah! Yeah, that’s me.”

He smiles kindly at you and places your drink down in front of you. “Then here you are. I take it you had fun watching The Revengers.”

“Oh, absolutely,” you respond, laughing lightly before moving to take a sip of the drink from the rocks glass, enjoying the small sour taste from the drink before being hit with the salt that was on your lips from the rim. You clear your throat before speaking again. “I was told they’d be good, I didn’t anticipate just how good.”

“Really? They’re talked about at a lot of places around here,” he explains, shocked before leaning on the opposite end of the bar. “How did you hear about them?”

“Oh, uh, through their guitarist,” you explain, your face heating up just having to think about the performance you just watched literally inches away from your face. “Loki.”

“Oh!” He exclaims, standing straight before clapping his hands together, saying your name with confidence. You raise a brow.

“Yes? That’s me.” You take a slow sip, confused as to how this curly haired man knows your name.

“I’m Brian, the owner,” he—Brian—explains with a hand placed in the middle of his chest. “I understand that’s weird, and I apologize. Loki said you’d be coming and to put you on the tab.”

“Oh.” Yeah, oh is right. Loki put you on their tab? You’re damn near close to asking if you can just go ahead and pay for the damned drink before Loki’s suddenly here and jumping onto a stool next to you.

“Hey!” Loki exclaims once you’ve turned around to actually look at him, taking another sip of your drink. “You made it!”

“Of course I did!” You say after you’ve swallowed. You noticed that Brian had left the two of you, probably to go and get Loki a drink. “Why wouldn’t I come?”

“I was just worried you wouldn’t get the note on my receipt,” Loki explains, becoming a little shy before running a hand through his hair once or twice to keep it out of his face. He’s still visibly sweaty, but not as much as he was on stage.

You could honestly just stare at him all night, the longer you look at him, the more features you find yourself fixating on. Like his slightly smudged eyeliner that makes his eyes pop a little under the LEDs of the bar.

“Please, if Helen found it she would have told the entire restaurant I was going out to see a rockstar tonight. I assure you of that.”

“You know,” Loki starts with a boyish smile, looking at you head on. “I don’t doubt it.”

You hide how you’re swooning at his stupid face by taking another sip of your drink as you snort. Smacking your lips, you speak again. “She’s that predictable, huh?”

“It’s Helen,” Loki starts before Brian is back with a small glass filled with some amber looking liquid. “Thank you, Bri.”

“‘Course,” he replies. “I’ll talk with you about the show later, but the cover was amazing.”

Loki’s beaming, giving Brian a wide smile before he’s raising his glass in Bri’s direction as he walks back off to another end of the bar you don’t bother to twist and see. Loki smiling has you smiling.

“You guys were great, y’know,” you say softly, almost in awe of the man before you. “I’ve never seen a guitarist play that fast.”

“Then you don’t know many guitarists,” Loki quips gently, sipping his alcohol before chuckling. “Sorry, that sounds rude.”

“No, no, you’re right. I don’t normally pay attention that much, but you had me hooked since the first song.”

“Since the Queen song or everything after that?”

You pause, trying to find the words to reply before just taking a breath and chuckling: “yes.”

Loki laughs with you, taking another sip of his drink. “Well, that’s good to know. You should have came last week, we had Roger to sing something for us.”

“Roger?”

“Yeah, Roger’s the co-owner of The Queen’s Pub with Brian. They’ve been friends for years.”

“Ooh,” you nod in understanding, sipping your drink before licking at the salted rim again for a little kick. “And before I forget, can I just go ahead and pay you for putting me on your tab? Like, it’s super sweet of you to do that, but I can pay—“

“No, absolutely not,” Loki says with a playful stern tone. “Not happening.”

You pout at Loki, finally putting your drink down to arm up your hand that’s been holding the glass this whole time. “Loki..”

“I’m serious, it’s fine. Brian never lets us pay it anyways,” he explains with a chuckle, putting his glass down as well. “We’ve had it since the early days—before we even had a name, let alone songs we wrote on the napkins here, we started paying at first. But then Brian saw how much traffic comes in here, the people pay for our drinks themselves just by showing up.”

“So The Revengers gives Queen’s Pub recognition and notoriety.” You mean your statement to be a question, but you knew the answer on your own. Your smile only seems to grow, hearing more bits and pieces to sew together the story behind The Revengers. “That’s—“

“Smart,” Loki finishes for you. “I know. We’ve tried to have Brian let us pay regardless, but he’s a stubborn bastard. He tells us it’s not just ‘cause of that though. Says it’s a thank you for taking him back to his old days every Saturday night.”

You laugh with Loki this time, leaning against the backing of the bar stool. “I mean, must be nice then! Brian sounds like the best granddad a person could have.”

Loki laughs a little harder at your joke before taking his glass to swallow the final sip of his drink. “He can be, for sure. Other times, it’s almost like he’s our manager, which is weird, but we let him do it anyway.”

You snort, smiling as you listen to Loki continuing to ramble a bit more about the pub. It made your heart start beating tenfold just by how passionate and excited he was telling you just every little detail he possibly could about it. He really cared about this pub and everyone in it. You could tell just by his excited hand movements and the fond look on his face alone. And you couldn’t help but find him more endearing at this point in the night.

Somehow, an hour passes, and the next act plays. You stay at Loki’s side, both in the makeshift pit of the stage, and back at the bar for another round of drinks after Cheerful Rangers actually played an actually good gig—you hate to sound so negative, but you didn’t see it coming; especially when high schoolers romped out onto the stage.

That’s how the night goes, really. You and Loki going from bar to stage, eventually opting in to drink water after the third act of the night—some of the songs got you and Loki dancing together, and you’re back to sweating.

As someone who hasn’t had many first dates (many? Hell, you’ve only had one, and even then it wasn’t as glamorous as this), you genuinely didn’t want the night to end. But the lights on the stage come down as Brian finishes the night with a small speech about thanking people for coming out as per always, giving everyone a final cheer before everyone is cleaning up after themselves and going to their own respective tables to keep the night alive. You look to Loki, unsure of what this means for the two of you.

Are you leaving? Staying and chatting more over water? Sharing more little snacks Brian drops off with a joke about the tab?

“Hey,” Loki says a little louder than normal. He’d probably tried to get your attention before this. You turn to look at him.

“Hm?”

“I’ve gotta help pack stuff into Bruce’s car, do you want a quick tour backstage while I help out? See everyone again?”

You’re already nodding before you even properly process what you’ve been asked, Loki lacing your hands together firmly as he guides you around a few small pods of people who are still choosing to stand for the evening.

“Oh,” you voice suddenly, noticing the door just next to stage left. “Through here?”

Loki lets out a soft laugh, nodding. “Yeah. Did you not notice Brian use it?”

You feel your face heating up from embarrassment. “Shut up.”

This only causes Loki to laugh more and make your heart want to slam out of your chest and into Loki’s awaiting hands for him to finally claim it as his own.

Now, you realize, you may have had one too many sips of alcohol. Hopefully this backstage tour makes the slight fog get out of your brain.

Loki swings the door open, and tugs you by your hand to walk through the threshold first, still holding hands as he’s right behind you and starting to take lead down the cream painted hallway.

“So, all these doors we’re starting to pass are dressing rooms,” Loki explains once you’re both walking the same pace, his hand gesturing to some of the doors he’s talking about. “Bri keeps them maintained well, even if none of us use them.”

“Will you ever, do you think?” You question, eyes looking along the walls to see all the pictures covering the walls between the doors. In almost every frame is an autographed…something. You don’t know what some of them are. Some are ticket stubs, some are headshots. Some are even playbills from New York.

“Maybe? Not too sure if I’m honest.” Loki’s stopping you both at the end of the hall, head twisting from right to left. You follow in suit, noticing that to your right, there’s a hall that leads to a wide open door to the back parking lot, and the other side you can see Thor and Brunn chatting animatedly as they both use their arms to rewrap some wire.

“To your right is the technical loading bay,” Loki explains, turning left. “I’m sure that’s obvious.”

“A little,” you quip, giggling. “But it’s fine. I’m getting a tour, you’re required to tell me these things.”

“Very true,” Loki replies, chuckling himself. This hall to where Thor and Brunn are is much shorter, and here is where you notice the main backstage area.

“Finally!” Brunn announces before Loki can beat her from speaking. “There you two are! We’ve been waiting to see you all night!”

“You could have met us at the bar,” Loki fires back immediately, his playful tone evident as he gently pulls you between Brunn and Thor. “I’m giving a tour, I’ll grab the amps here in a sec.”

“You better, lover boy,” Brunn shouts as he pulls you away to the other side of the room as if it’s miles away.

You’re laughing at their interaction before Loki’s clearing his throat. “Anyway.”

“Yes, sorry, do go on,” you say, bringing your laughing down to a giggle.

“Main backstage area,” Loki continues, a smile never leaving his face as he lets your hand go to gesture wide to the room. Brunn finishes her bundle of wire perfectly and does a pose while Thor continues rolling his share of the wire, clueless to what’s even going on.

“Wow.”

“I know,” Loki replies excitedly. “Can be fun before shows. We have a tradition to do a little shot or two before heading out. It’s a good time. The ramps closer to where the actual stage is leads to the stage, obviously.”

“Fun as hell to ride the amps down, by the way,” Brunn cuts in, her wire bundle out of her hands and somewhere in the suit case near Thor. Now she’s grabbing another wire that’s just a pile on the floor to wrap again. “Just be sure you have someone to catch you—“

“There may be a hole behind the couch and we haven’t told Brian,” Bruce cuts in, smiling nervously from his confession. “We’ll tell when we have the money for the damage. So, keep this between us.”

You hold back any cackle you may have, giving everyone a thumbs up in the room before looking to Loki, noticing a hall behind you in your peripheral vision. “I assume there’s more dressing rooms back there?”

“Huh?” Loki whips around before he’s confirming your suspicion. “Yes! It’s the same as the other hall, the door however leads to the backrooms where storage is. Not at all like the fun way we just came in.”

“Boo,” you reply teasingly. “Could at least have something more fun.”

“Tell Brian that,” Loki replies. “He tries to keep a tight ship. Roger’s the fun one.”

“Why do I believe that?”

“Because Brian is a boring name,” Thor chimes, finishing his wire and knotting it off. Everyone looks over at him, eyes wide. You and Brunn had let out some gasps when he even said it.

Thor looked up from his hands, scanning all of your faces. “What? It’s true.”

There’s a beat of silence, before Brunn breaks it.

“I’m so telling him you said that—“

“Brunn!”

“Oh god,” Bruce groans, rubbing his face with his hands. “I’m not involved.”

You and Loki turn to each other and laugh at your friends—well, his friends, really, but you’re hoping that you’re in the team at this point—fond and light.

“I’ll just go and start grabbing those amps from the stage,” Loki says finally, Thor and Brunn’s bickering slowly becoming a background noise. Loki turns to look at you. “If you’d like you can sit and watch Thor and Brunnhilde go at each other, or help. Whichever you’d like, darling.”

The nickname Loki uses absolutely has your face heating again, and you nod, taking a breath to try and recover from the term.

“I’ll, uh,” you start, rubbing your hands together. Your brain is going a few miles per minute. “How can I help?”

Luckily for you, Loki and Bruce are quick to put you to work, taking you out on the stage and showing you how to detach their amps from the pub’s stage set up with ease. You’re in charge of making sure all the wires for them are detached and in your arms to be relayed back to Brunn and Thor in the back.

It’s a relatively easy job, and you’re enjoying watching Bruce and Loki interact a bit more for yourself. Really, you’re happy to see all of them interact more closely than at your job. You can feel how tight they are together as a group, and it makes you feel like you’re intruding slightly.

And yet, they still welcome you with open arms anyways.

“We should be good! Just meet us out back, my car’s parked there!” Bruce shouts to you as you’re coming up the ramp. “We need someone to spot us when we pick up the amp!”

“Got it!” You call back, disappearing back behind the curtain after walking through the wings, Thor and Brunn back to silently raveling the wires you’ve brought them.

It’s not long before you’re back out in the back lot. You can see Bruce’s car just like he said. You can also pick out your car from the small smattering of patrons still in the pub. The night has gotten a bit chilly, unfortunately for you. You’ll simply have to make do.

“Incoming!” Loki shouts, getting your attention as you’re quick to be sure you’re out of his way in the doorway. The amp wheels are loud as Loki continues to speak to his bandmate over the noise. “Bruce, is your trunk clean finally?”

“Yes sir!”

You can’t hide your giggling at their conversation before Loki and Bruce are out with two of the four amps from the stage.

“Okay, so me and Bruce will lift, just be sure we don’t magically drop it, alright?” Loki explains standing straight to shake out his hands and arms and stretching them slightly. You nod obediently, refraining from making the magic joke you were thinking about.

Loki gives you a smile and a nod back before he and Bruce are on either side of one of the two amps, counting to three and positioning their hands on the bottom edges to grip and lifting.

And you want to say you’re paying attention on the amp, but you’re so not.

Loki’s ripped. You’ve noticed his biceps before, sure, but this? In action? His biceps are bulging just like Bruce’s as they lift the large amp together before it’s safe in Bruce’s trunk and you’re rolling the next one over when Bruce asks. You’re thankful for the show Loki’s arms are giving you as the second amp of the night is stacked perfectly in Bruce’s trunk.

The three of you quietly cheer before the process is repeated, and you try to hide how you’re drooling over the way Loki’s arms look for a second time. Thank god your help wasn’t actually needed. You don’t think you’d be able to make it in time before an amp actually broke.

Soon enough, Bruce’s car is packed with most of their instruments, and all the wiring before The Revengers and you are piling back out into the main lobby of The Queen’s Pub.

“Brian!” Brunn shouts in a sing-song voice, Thor immediately shouting a no! and rushing from the back to stop her from her next words. You and Loki stay back as Bruce comes in just after the two of you.

You notice the pub is significantly empty, and turn to Loki for questioning.

“The pub usually closes around this time on Saturdays,” he explains easily. “Brian lets us stay back almost always. Usually he makes us move the chairs and tables back for him so the staff can focus more so on cleaning. Y’know, since Saturdays are always packed.”

You snort, looking over at Loki as your linked hands swing between the two of you. “Really? I would have no clue. Seemed super empty.”

“Oh, stop it,” Loki responds, gently giggling and nudging you before you’re glancing at the clock that hangs just above the LEDs of the bar that Brian is currently paused cleaning to talk with Brunn.

10:05 pm. Jesus Christ.

You’ve basically spent all day here.

“Oh, I didn’t even know it was ten,” you say suddenly hand—unfortunately—letting go of Loki’s to move to the your back pocket of your jeans to check your phone. You’ve checked it periodically through the night, and there wasn’t many notifications worth your time besides a bunch of texts from Helen. “Damn..”

“Do you need to get going?” Loki asks, gently grabbing your arm and stopping the two of you from walking as you look at your phone screen. You feel Bruce walk around the two of you with a soft apology. “I didn’t ask if you worked tomorrow, I’m sorry—“

“No, no, you’re so okay,” you say, looking up at Loki with a grin as you pocket your phone. “I just didn’t expect it to be ten, I have work around noon.”

Loki mirrors your smile, and you don’t notice the four pairs of eyes on you from the bar as he takes a breath. “Well, you should get home then, shouldn’t you?”

You mimic his breath, which only causes him to chuckle. “Unfortunately.”

“Well, allow me to walk you to your car? The more fun way, of course,” Loki teases, holding his arm out for you to hook your own with his. You’re quick to playfully courtesy and lock arms, laughing with him as he guides you back through the stage door just like earlier in the night, making small talk with each other.

You’re tired, but you really don’t want this night to end. Loki’s been so lovely. Everything has been so lovely. From the dancing in the audience together to watching Loki shred on his guitar—you’ll be thinking about that for who knows how long.

Eventually when you both get outside, you switch from locked arms to holding hands one last time. You ask him about the tiny things from the show tonight now, what color is his nail polish, really. Do they coordinate outfits? What were they laughing about as he played the opening chords?

“Well, Brunn was pointing out something Brian was doing,” Loki answers. “The nail polish is some matte oil spill color, it was laying around when we were rehearsing and Brunn insisted, Brunn also forces us to coordinate if need be, because Thor will show up in the worst outfit imaginable if you let him.”

You’re laughing as the two of you are finally getting close to your car. “No! That’s so sad. Thor has fashion—“

“Absolutely not!” Loki exclaims as he lets you start to guide him. “As his brother, I am offended. He’s not fashionable. At all. Whatsoever.”

You’re still giggling before you see some of your little bumper stickers on the back trunk of your car, smiling sadly. You feel Loki gripping your hand a little tighter and so you turn around before shuffling to lean against your trunk.

“This is me,” you say finally, refraining from showing your true emotion. “Thank you for finally getting me to a show.”

“Thank you for coming,” Loki replies, smiling as his thumb rubs over your knuckles comfortingly. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“It was the most fun I’ve had in a while, I’ll admit,” you shuffle on your feet momentarily, looking down at your feet to watch as you toe some asphalt before looking back up at Loki.

Loki’s giving you this…look. You’re not sure what look it is—actually, it seems to be something fond like how he was when he was watching his friends and brother interact—but it’s giving you this weird tug in your stomach. Almost like you just want to kiss him which, to you, is a new and exciting feeling.

“Well that just means we’ll have to bring you out here again then, doesn’t it?” Loki questions smoothly, a small smirk quirking at the corner of his lips.

You’re grinning at those words, the offer to return here could genuinely make you squeal with where this future with him could be headed.

“Absolutely,” you say, trying not to bounce on your toes as you get off of your trunk, starting to walk backwards to your driver’s side, tugging Loki with you. “Just tell me about the next gig, and I’ll absolutely be there. For the Cheerful Rangers, of course.”

Loki scoffs and places a hand on his chest as he allows you to tug him. “Wow. They stole the show tonight for you? And I thought you were here for me.”

You laugh, finally dropping Loki’s hand to fish around in your pockets to try and grab your car keys in the slowest fashion as possible. Your skin feels arm knowing his gaze is on you before you reply.

“You’re a mere bonus, rockstar.” You like the way the nickname sounds, you realize. It fit Loki both on and off the stage a little too perfectly, especially after tonight. “I’ll catch you later?”

“Catch you later,” Loki confirms gently, his hands moving to his back pockets. “Get home safe, yeah?”

“I can try, just for you.” You’re almost back tracking, but Loki’s smiling and slowly stepping back from where you stand near your drivers side door.

“Thank you,” he replies before giving a final goodbye. You pout playfully, shouting a last goodbye back before you’re getting in your car and Loki’s headed back into the building.

Your drive home is a blur in the best way possible. For some not-date-date, it definitely felt like a date for your very tiny book. The radio doesn’t have any decent music playing, which is unfortunate. As you’re at a red light, you realize that maybe one day you’ll hear Loki on the radio. With Brunn, Bruce, and Thor. And that makes you giddy endlessly for them. They deserved it.

The rest of your drive you’re thinking about the performance, Loki’s hand in yours, the way Loki played, and it isn’t until you get home that you realize you never exchanged god damn numbers.

“Fuck!” You exclaim into your empty apartment, groaning as your keys fly to your small hall table near your door, hands pressing to your eyes out of annoyance.

#loki x reader #guitarist!loki x reader #loki odinson x reader #loki odinson imagine #loki laufeyson x reader #loki laufeyson imagine #marvel writer #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #rachael writes #tiftt —g!l au

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wakaoujisenhime · 4 years ago

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Hi! I really glad that I found your blog which still taking requests about knb stuff🖤 May I request fwb or friend to lover with Takao in nsfw please? Thanks a lot!

A/N: Hi there, I’m also thrilled to have you here! Now, I wasn’t quite sure whether you wanted headcanons or a scenario so I hope you don’t mind that I did a mix out of the two ...make sure to tell me if you wanted/expected something else 👀

For those who are interested in a fluffier take of the more or less same trope, I’ll leave a link to that scenario below...ANYWAY I hope you’ll enjoy this spicy scenario (also keep in mind that it’s my first time writing smut for KnB! 👉👈)

Tags: Takao x reader ✅ friends with benefits ✅ friends to lovers ✅ fluff ✅ slight angst ✅ smut ✅

☞ 𝕗𝕝𝕦𝕗𝕗𝕪 𝕧𝕖𝕣.

━━━━☆ ━━━━☆ ━━━━☆

having someone as lively as Takao in your circle of friends guaranteed you a lot of fun and laughs throughout your days

the two of you understood each other since day 1 and had quickly become inseparable

his former basketball club teammates had always teased the two of you by saying how much you both looked like an old married couple, but you rarely to never payed any attention to it

the school years passed by in a flash and before you knew it, a new chapter of your life was awaiting you

usually, people tend to lose contact with their former schools’ friends, but that was never a worry in your friendship with the young man because neither you nor he intended to leave the other’s side, even if it meant that you’d have to live together

you had considered it, but never truly talked about it so now you both were living separated but close enough for daily visits and hangouts

whenever Takao and you took a walk or went shopping together small gestures such as holding hands, leaning your head on his shoulders, or him using your lap as his pillow after taking a seat somewhere were nothing out of the usual

no matter how small these may have been, there would always be some kind of warm and fuzzy feeling that spread inside of you whenever you were so close to each other

as time passed you began to desire more and couldn’t help but wonder just what would happen if you went past that threshold of friendship

at first, you thought that these thoughts were simply temporary and one-sided but as time flew by you began to wonder whether Takao shared these hidden desires as well

he began to increasingly close the distance between you two by doing innocent-seeming things such as inviting you to a round or two of street basketball while he had nothing on but some shorts or when he slept over at your house, he’d wander around half-naked with nothing but a towel which covered his lower body after he’d taken a shower

on one evening when he’d invited you over to his home, the two of you were snuggled as close as can be (since personal space never existed in your relationship) while watching a movie the two of you liked

you were slowly growing tired and whenever Takao caught that, he’d always try to make you fall asleep quicker by gently caressing your head, and now wasn’t any different

or so you thought...

your eyelids were slowly becoming heavier and just as you were about to completely doze off, you felt how his slender fingers began playing with your ear, tickling it in the process

as a response to this tingling feeling you began writhing your body, trying to escape his grasp as the smallest giggles escaped you

“T-Takao, haha...s-stop it!”

“Hmm? What’s wrong, am I perhaps bothering you?”

· · ─────── · ❀ · ─────── · ·

Even though you managed to win some distance between you two, his fingers never paused and tickled you until tears rolled down your cheeks from so much laughter.

This continued for a couple of minutes until you fell right into his lap and surrendered. Takao laughed triumphantly as he gently pets your head a few times and leaned himself back.

“Sorry sorry, but I couldn’t help myself, you’re always so cute when you laugh like that.”

His apology didn’t mean much if you considered that mischievous grin that was plastered on his face. You wanted to pay him back for that so you simply crossed your arms and pouted, knowing fully well that this would trigger the young man’s conscience and make him feel at least a little bad.

Not even a minute later and his smile was replaced by a surprised and slightly worried expression. He whispered your name and poked your cheek ever so gently as he continuously asked whether you were mad at him. You used that short moment of confusion and swiftly took a hold of his cheeks, pulling his face down to you and kissing his lips. Even though that small peck didn’t even last five entire seconds, your friend looked so taken aback that he even raised his arm towards his mouth and ran his fingertips along his chapped lips.

“D-Did you just...? You...y-you really did, didn’t you?”

“What’s wrong Takao? Don’t tell me that good ol’ me stole your first kiss!” you teased and waited rather unusually long for the typical cheeky answer you were used to, but nothing came from him for quite a while so you simply looked up at him and whispered out his name. You saw his lips move and he said something that sounded very much like do it again, but since you were quite uncertain and wanted to make sure, but before even a sound escaped from your mouth, Takao’s hand took a hold of the back of your head, lifted it up towards his own face and now kissed you.

This time though you decided to savor the moment and even wrapped your arms around his neck. The young man seemingly had the same idea as he pushed your body further towards his own, with the help of his other hand that he’d placed on your back. At that moment neither of you cared for the fact that you were nothing more than friends and that this was considered unnatural, all desires that the two of you had kept hidden within yourselves for all this time erupted and came to light.

· · ─────── · ❀ · ─────── · ·

the following day the two of you tried to act as if that kiss had never happened, but unfortunately, your memories of it were enough to push you past the threshold of friendship and gradually change your relationship

from then on both of you individually started getting closer to the other and at some point, it even bordered on possessiveness, but it couldn’t be helped since it was you both that unleashed your desires for the other

everything seemed normal at first and you started off with mere kisses on the lips whenever a situation presented itself; situations such as when Takao surprised you with a meal or when you helped him out with his chores/assignments

then slowly but surely you began to close the physical distance as well

when going out together the occasional gesture of him wrapping his arm around your hip to shield you from the masses of people that went on a shopping spree became a habit and even lasted for your entire walk; you on the other hand usually either hocked your arm around his or simply held onto his hand, but now you even intertwined your fingers with his own, caressed the back of his palm, and of course didn’t let go until you had to

you putting his clothes on, Takao using some of your skincare products, or him sleeping over at your place and vice versa was nothing uncommon, so even if it occurred more than twice a week neither of you truly minded it until that one faithful night that started it all off...

that night you were having another one of your sleepovers, you had cuddled up to him and played with his fingers while he caressed your head with his free hand

you still don’t know why but at some point you two started to jostle for something and you ended up underneath your friend’s lean body

it was all laughs at first, but the moment you two locked eyes with each other the atmosphere changed drastically and before you knew it, you’d began kissing each other passionately; it also didn’t take the two of you too long to get touchy-feely

· · ─────── · ❀ · ─────── · ·

While your tongue was clashing against his own and battling for dominance, you felt his slightly cold fingers dive underneath your shirt. The sudden and unexpected sensation made your body twitch and your back arch against the young man’s chest, who used the opportunity to move his hand further up your back until his nibble fingers reached your bra’s hooks. You halted mid-kiss and opened your eyes and were greeted by a rather erotic expression from the man above you. His hair was a mess, his cheeks, flushed; his pupils were dilated up until the point where the black almost swallowed the slate blue of his irises, and his slightly chapped lips looked glossy from all the saliva you guys exchanged during your passionate kiss. To put it simply: he was a mess.

Knowing that you were responsible for his state made you feel hot and you couldn’t deny that you were getting more aroused by the minute. You used the small timeframe during which he was busy removing the two different fabrics from your upper body to remove his sweatpants. All this time nothing except your individual heavy breathing could be heard, neither of you said anything and just waited for the other to either back away or put an end to this and yet you didn’t. You heard Takao swallow audibly as he took a hold of your cheeks and pressed his lips once again against your own and that gesture made you lose it completely.

Before you knew it, clothes were thrown behind the couch and onto the floor until nothing remained but your undergarments.

“T-Takao, we’re really doing this, huh?” you ask between pants as you impatiently push your hips up to his clothed lower body. A low growl escapes him and instead of answering you, he just bit his lower lip while his hands were busy squeezing your breasts and playing with your nipples.

“ ‘Course we are,” he mumbled in between the kisses and licks he peppered your sensitive buds with. While his hands traveled down your abdomen, you used the opportunity to free his erection from the boxer briefs that confined it, wrapped your hand around his shaft, and began stroking it. With your thumb, you gently spread the bead of precum around his tip while continuously looking at his changing expression. The moment he noticed that his face had become the focus of your attention he immediately straightened himself and glared down at you.

“You little vixen. Do you get off on what you see?” Takao asks as he removes your panties in a swift motion, gives them a quick sniff, and throws them behind the couch. The entire situation made you blush almost instantly, tainting your cheeks in a deep red, and even if you tried to hide from his cheeky grin and curious eyes, your friend was quicker than you and dove his head down between your legs.

Holding your moans and voice in general back proved to be quite the impossible task for you since your friend showed you that his big and loud mouth also had other and way more pleasurable functions than those. The way his tongue skillfully flicked against your clit the moment his thin fingers had come in contact with that one sensitive spot inside of you, made you moan out in surprise and had your back arching ever so slightly. It truly was different when people other than yourself touched your weak spots and with such precision on top of that.

At this rate, I-I’m not going to last—

Mere seconds after you’d thought that Takao took a hold of your thighs and pushed them up towards your chest, exposing your entire lower half to the rather chilly air of the living room. He spread your labia apart while continuing to lick your wet entrance and puffy clit. One of his hands kneaded your breast and the other caressed your mushy insides in a scissoring motion. His eagle-like eyes were fixated on your heavily breathing form and the way your moans turned into whines made him feel even more satisfaction and just like that, he threw all morale away and indulged himself in your body.

· · ─────── · ❀ · ─────── · ·

that night had been quite a long and very pleasurable one

now that you knew how your best friend was in bed, you couldn’t help but see him in a different light

since the two of you were still single and simply had some occasional hookups with no serious intentions behind them it was a good thing that you had crossed the border of simple friendship and were now considering the other a friend with benefits

whenever one of you craved attention, needed to blow off some steam, or was just in need of some physical contact in general you’d repeat what the two of you started during that night

you were also lucky enough to see sides of your best friend that you’d never seen before let alone known of their existence

Takao ticked all the boxes one could wish for

he was attentive to your needs, respectful of your boundaries, he was both assertive and diffident, and of course so very skillful

one thing that surprised you was that he had quite the wholesome kinks despite his rebellious and rather wild appearance

he’d always treat you as if you were a treasure and make sure to give all of your body the attention it deserved

“You’re just so perfect (Y/N)-chan...how can one even think about holding back?”

that’s what he had told you once while the two of you were sharing the bathtub and his hands were caressing your body’s most prominent parts

sure he had his softer sides but like everyone else even he could experience more frustrating and stressful days during which that soft side was replaced by an intenser one

the moment he either left your messages on reading or simply came over to your apartment knocking the door half off its hinges you instinctively knew what was about to go down

on days such as these, he’d remain silent most of the time and simply use your body however he sees fit

someone got on his nerves today?

expect deep and relentless thrusting in all kind of positions that were sure to hit your most sensitive spots

he messed something up and got screamed at by his superior?

you better have a day off on the following day because this man is first going to edge you until you cry and then overstimulate your already spent body until you beg him to stop

bad mood in general?

he’d bind both of your wrists to the bedpost and would remain perfectly silent throughout the entire time he’d pleasure you, regardless of how many times you’d ask him if he was ok and whether you did something wrong, he’d simply spare you a single glance and continue eating you out in a slow but precise manner

the first time he’d shown you this “uglier” side of his you were quite thrown back, but afterward, he treated you so gentle and affectionate that it almost made you forget about everything that had transpired

as time flew by the fact you had tried to suppress ever so often finally came back to haunt you

the fact that the two of you were still friends

yeah sure you had now counted as friends with benefits for the past few months, but the clean cut between your relationship had never been made

“(Y/N)-chan is something the matter, you stopped moving your hips, y’know?”

and with that, you were brought back to the reality before you

the man who had occupied your thoughts was lying underneath you, arms crossed behind his head, small sweat droplets adorning and highlighting his flexed abdominal muscles, his hawk-like eyes looked at your exposed and slightly sweating body, focusing on your hardened nipples and the tightness of your walls that were clinging to his pulsating shaft

usually, you’d choose a better time to bring up important topics such as your relationship with the young man, but the adrenaline within you mixed with the ecstasy you felt from this entire situation made you speak up about what had been bothering you this entire time

“Takao...what are we?”

the light grip the young man had maintained on your hips tightened up ever so slightly and you could see how his jaw muscles tensed up

you yourself were taken aback by the direct confrontation so you couldn’t help but imagine just how much it threw him off the loop

after a while, he asked what you meant with that question and now it was your turn to be speechless

What do I actually want...?

the two of you were really close friends, but what now?

does this relationship even have the potential for a more romantic one or would it simply ruin everything?

Takao noticed that his question had quite the impact on you so he immediately got up from his lying position and took a gentle hold of your arms

his gentle touch startled you ever so slightly, your eyes darted instinctively to his own ones

“(Y/N)-chan...I’m sorry if I startled you with thi-“

“N-No no, don’t apologize! It was my fault for bringing it up in this situation...”

your faint smile was a pathetic attempt to reassure someone who’s known you for such a long time, so as expected Takao didn’t give in ...

· · ─────── · ❀ · ─────── · ·

You felt how his hands slowly moved up to your shoulders and unexpectedly pushed you back, ultimately changing your positions. Now that the young man was on top of you he trapped you underneath him by placing his hands on each side of your head and hooked his legs with yours in such a way that even if you tried to struggle, his weight and muscles wouldn’t let you move even an inch.

“(Y/N),” he began, the unusual way of him calling you by your full name made you tense up even more than you already were, “I think that the two of us know the reason why we never labeled this relationship...if you can even call it that.”

Without giving him much of an answer you simply nodded and waited for him to continue his line of thoughts. After some intense moments of silence, he sighed and began: “I want to be completely honest with you (Y/N), do you seriously think I’m doing all of these things just because I’m that sexually frustrated? Or do you think I’m indulging you just because we’re friends?”

There was some doubt inside your head concerning his last question, but you nodded nonetheless.

“I wouldn’t do that and you know it...sure when we first did it I thought that it might’ve been a mistake and that I was being too pushy, but when you became more touch-starved I knew that it had to mean something and that’s why I kept going...”

He placed one of his hands on your cheek and caressed it lightly, the sensation sending pleasurable goosebumps down your entire body. You wanted to intertwine your fingers with his, but before you could do that his warm hand left your cheek.

“...if you started having your doubts about all of this then I understand that you’d want to stop this.”

The expression he said that last part with made your heart ache, but that young man knew how to hide his pain. In a matter of seconds, he bounced back from completely broken to gentle and loving.

“But let me say this (Y/N)...just cause I’m backing down now doesn’t mean I won’t try to steal you away from your future partner!”

...

...You idiot

Just as he was about to pull away from your insides you hooked your legs around his hips, keeping him buried as deep inside of you as he had been mere moments ago. That gesture of yours was both surprising and quite pleasurable so it was no surprise that he’d have to take a deep and slightly trembling breath.

“Kazunari Takao, you’re such an idiot. When did I ever utter the words of not wanting to be with you anymore...?”

Now your hands found themselves on top of his cheeks, but this time you pulled him down towards yourself and kissed him. The element of surprise vanished pretty quickly and before you knew it he kissed you back with his usual vigor.

“I’m also scared you know..? You’re so important to me that I’m borderline anxious about what could happen if we really do cross the border of friendship, but I’d like to believe that our bond isn’t that thin that we’d end up as enemies if something shouldn’t work out...what do you think?”

The man above you remained silent, but the loving and relieved smile he’d cast upon you gave you all the answers you needed, so without saying anything else you just wrapped your arms around his neck and buried your forehead in the crack of his neck.

Now that you had reached a mutual and more or less wordless understanding it was your bodies’ turn to finish the job.

With newfound vigor, Takao slid his hands down to your legs and lifted them just enough to expose your private parts. He licked his thumb with the very top of his tongue and began drawing circles on your clit. As soon as you were wet enough for his shaft to thrust back and forth his hand directed its focus to your breasts and began kneading them.

And this night marked the first time the two of you embraced and pleased each other like a proper couple...

#knb headcanons #knb imagines #knb fluff #knb smut #knb takao #takao x reader #━𝙺𝙽𝙱 #━𝚅𝙸𝚂𝙸𝚃𝙾𝚁'𝚂 𝙴𝙲𝙷𝙾 #alysspear

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you-cant-spell-subtext-without · 4 years ago

Text

so get this. I was gonna roll around in Tombstone related fluff today - but no, no - this post came across my dash so Now We Are Gonna Discuss the Carnal Consumption of Meat as it appears on That Show Supernatural. YEAH BUDDIES!

(also my sincere apologies to OP of the inspiration post who innocently tagged it with “lunch date!” because I am about to go Elsewhere, cursedly).

Let’s all go meat man, after the cut!

This analysis centers primarily on 5x14 Bloody Valentine. The title of course is a semi-homage to a 3D Slasher Film Jensen starred in circa 2009.

Which I will be renting soon I guess. ,[<- parasocial panda GET BACK IN YOUR ENCLOSURE]

Also Its Really Fun that the trailer for Said Cinema ends with “nothing says date movie like a 3-D ride to hell” [are you also thinking of Cas pulling Dean out of hell, or are you normal?] ***unironically the teaser for 5x14 is -

EXT. SIDEWALK - IN FRONT OF ALICE'S APARTMENT BUILDING

RUSSEL

First date.

They then eat each other. Literally they eat each others flesh. They also do it while dirty talking about it. SPN IS A SHOW

ALICE Ugh! I've been so alone. So empty...

RUSSEL I know. Me too.

ALICE I want you, Russel---All of you... inside me...

[they both take bites out of each other, Alice chewing on a piece of Russel's flesh]

****Remember this detail, as it is important.

ANYWAY, it’s truly Cursed that not only are we doing an homage to this 3-D Jensen Horror Date Flick but also this episode is specifically centered on Valentine’s Day. The day honoring romance and love Now Coopted by Hallmark, everyone, that is the day spn writers chose to introduce us to

Sir Horseman of THE Biblical Apocalypse Famine.

Canonically, we are aware that the show is drawing from the book of Revelations in its depiction of the Four Horsemen. Here’s what it says about Famine -

"When He broke the third seal, I heard the third living creature saying, "Come." I looked, and behold, a black horse; and he who sat on it had a pair of scales in his hand.”

-Revelations 6:5

Famine holds scales (used to weigh out grain in times of food scarcity). Spn’s depiction is represented as hunger, a bottomless pit of need. It consumes souls (demon and human alike).

Cas describes Famine a little more poetically:

CASTIEL

"And then will come Famine riding on a black steed. He will ride into the land of plenty... "

"... and great will be the Horseman's hunger, for he is hunger. "

"His hunger will seep out and poison the air. "

***Consider a prior season in which we are introduced to the Seven Deadly Sins. Which are the sins associated with hunger?

Gluttony

and Lust.

***this is also important

Back to the episode. Case cold open, and we find out that Alice was a Nice Girl. In that she didnt drink, smoke or

have premarital sex.

***So Alice’s hunger for the sin of Lust caused her to succumb to it; and her demise was presented as Gluttony (literally eating her partner’s flesh). HMM

Famine’s presence is affecting the town, and Cas is not immune.

DEAN

And when did you start eating?

CASTIEL

Exactly. My hunger-- it's a clue, actually.

***They lay it out a little more in case you missed it ->

SAM

I thought famine meant starvation, like as in, you know, food.

CASTIEL

Yes. Absolutely. But not just food. I mean, everyone seems to be starving for something--Sex, attention, drugs, love...

***this is so important. but of course because its spn and our textual narrators are generally unreliable (even in a Ben Edlund episode, yes I know)

we get a red herring

CASTIEL

Right. The cherub made them crave love, and then Famine came, and made them rabid for it.

***but that’s not accurate. they didn’t get married or become obsessed with each other (remember the cursed coin in 4x08 Wishful Thinking and the unconditional love wish? not what happened here). they had premarital sex. they did the thing Alice considers wrong, and dark, and sinful. and then they ate each others’ flesh.

DEAN

Okay, but what about you? I mean, since when do angels secretly hunger for White Castle?

CASTIEL

It's my vessel-- Jimmy. His, uh, appetite for red meat has been touched by Famine's effect

***mad lad Jimmy Novak’s hunger is for...red meat? He is starving for red meat? You are telling me that the Novaks, red blooded conservative religious midwestern Novaks, ate RED MEAT SO SPARINGLY that Jimmy Novak was LITERALLY starving for it?!?! No way. Absolutely no way. This is a man who was such a religious zealot he STUCK HIS HAND IN BOILING WATER and accepted an angel of the lord into his own body but his secret hunger was for fucking ground beef?

give me a damn break.

to me this is an absolute coverup. Because Cas’s burger consumption is not related one iota to his vessel Jimmy Novak.

it is a representation of Cas falling. Cas’s cravings for meat represent his growing (and very much prohibited) feelings for...humanity (Dean Winchester), and they are presenting as Gluttony in the form of his downing more and more copious amounts of red meat.

SERIOUSLY, consider this - at one point the depiction is so desperately carnal that he is eating raw ground beef with his bare hands. It is fucking uncomfortable. and it is SUPPOSED to be. Famine stirs up hunger for the prohibited. For the sinful. That which we are starving for but do not believe we can ever have, so we lust and we lust and we LUST after it, but should we allow ourselves even just a taste of what we have been ravenously craving, we binge it until we ourselves disappear into the oblivion of our own sinful, dark desires.

Since You Want More Examples of why this cant possibly be hunger for Cheeseburgers and Cheeseburgers alone, Consider Famine’s effect on Dean. Remember his doctor kink?

**when its revealed that Doctor Corman has succumbed to Famine’s poison by drinking himself to death, Dean - very uncharacteristically by the way - reacts by saying out loud

DEAN Thanks. Crap! I really kind of liked this guy.

***please note that Doctor Corman says the following to Dean in the prior scene they have together -

DR. CORMAN [to Dean]

Agent Marley, you just can't stay away.

****was that a flirtation?

***Also, Dean doesn’t want to go out and chase tail for Valentines Day.

SAM

I mean, what do you always call it-- Uh, unattached drifter Christmas?

DEAN

Oh, yeah. Well... be that as it may...I don't know. Guess I'm not feeling it this year.

SAM

So you're not into bars full of lonely women?

DEAN

Nah, I guess not. [takes a sip of his beer] Ahh. What?

SAM

That's when a dog doesn't eat-- That's when you know something's really wrong.

***oh look we are relating things to eating again. sex/lust to gluttony. hmmm hmmm hmmm

ANYHOW - *takes deep breath*

this is also the Episode Where This Scene Lives

****JACKTING JOICES

oh and speaking of jacting joices, this is also the Dean Notices Cupids Crotch Episode.

frAckles, I am once again asking why you only permit celestial beings to hug you from behi-[gunshots]

but Dean isn’t hungry. Why? Famine has the explanation, and we get it after Dean immediately runs inside after Cas heads in to complete his portion of their plan barely giving him any time to do so because he misses him that much.

FAMINE

I disagree. [Famine moves closer to Dean and touches him] Yes. I see. That's one deep, dark nothing you got there, Dean. Can't fill it, can you? Not with food or drink. Not even with sex.

DEAN

Oh, you're so full of crap.

FAMINE

Oh, you can smirk and joke and lie to your brother, lie to yourself, but not to me!

***not Dean making all of those homophobic/homoerotic jokes every time he’s in danger or feeing uncomfortable; not that, that can’t possibly be what Famine is referencing, right?

I can see inside you, Dean. I can see how broken you are, how defeated.

***not THIS parallel:

AMARA:

You're a mystery. I can see inside your heart. Feel the love you feel, except… It's cloaked in shame

You can't win, and you know it. But you just keep fighting. Just... keep going through the motions.

***not the motions of performative heterosexuality!!

***Dean’s not hungry because in his heart he truly believes that he can’t actually have what he hungers for. That Thing Which This Episode Overtly but Also Very Clearly Made Obvious. It’s an angel riding shotgun [I did Do That and I am Not Sorry], eating a burger in the front seat of the impala. But, I’ve deviated from the meat of this essay [gunshots] [this time just for the bad joke].

BONUS

there’s Exists another episode in which a man ravenously consumes red meat; eventually succumbing to eating raw beef with his bare hands in the season prior to this one.

Yes Supernatural the Show That Brought Us Not One But Two Scenes of Persons Carnally Consuming Red Meat With Their Bare Hands.

This episode is a MOTW - the man in question is a rougaru - a monster that starts out as human but due to some specific genetic disorder (hmmm hmmm hmm crack in THE chassis hmmm hmmm) soon begins to be extremely hungry - “for everything, but eventually long pig.” AKA human flesh.

Wanna know the kicker?

Episode’s called Metamorphosis.

(GIF by jackttwist)

I’ll see myself out.

[DOUBLE BONUS for extra credit:

if you really wanna wild out, go watch the scene of Jack the rougaru looking at himself in the mirror in 4x04 - and then meander on over to 7x01 and check out God!stiel looking in the mirror as the leviathans writhe inside him over there. It’s worth the walk.]

***oh and @lilac-void im tagging you in this one because in exchange for your KIND creator content nomination I guess I will respond by cursing you with an Honorary tag in this, a Meat Meta. you’re welcome slash I'm sorry XO [but seriously thank you again for your kindness and appreciation; it really motivated me to sit down and get moving on making more content <3]

#yes I did do a meat meta #and what of it #destiel #spn #spn fandom #supernatural #spn family #myspnmeta #my spn meta #hellerism #deancas #longpost #spn analysis #spn 5x14 #spn bloody valentine #meat meta #<- I do not even want to know or see what else that tag would lead to

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