#blunt to an uncomfortable level

[goodpointsandbadpoints]

Ash, Fantastic Mr. Fox (2009)

[rxmxa]

𝐥𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐮𝐩 ❤️‍🔥

my ideas + observations on what lilith aspects might look like in daily life <3

Lilith-Sun Aspects: Getting noticed right away by people especially when a group setting, being liked by people on the surface level but secretly they disapprove or frown at your actions when you turn around, men judging you, standing your ground at all costs, not knowing when to back down, being a natural leader, challenging societal norms with who you are and forms of self expression, walking into a meeting or class wearing a bold outfit and peoples heads turning but not a word is uttered, getting dress-coded at work or school, your boss or teachers feeling uncomfortable to say something to you, people feeling like you are being "messy" when you question the norms, not addressing rumors. knowing you're gonn stir things up when you are walking into rooms and not caring, being told to change, being told you're too much, men wanting to date you but then wishing you would be "easy to work with" or wanting to date you and then get mad when they can't dominate you, you thinking "what don't they fucking understand? I just don't want to be like them" being afraid of your individuality not being recognized that you go to extremes at some moments

Lilith-Moon aspects: the type of people to actually answer with the truth when you ask them how they're doing and then you're kind of shook because you thought they were gonna sugarcoat and be like "I'm fine" being painfully honest or blunt, talking about feelings considered taboo (like no one really likes to talk about how they are jealous or bitter or other shit like that, they just hide it or project it) but lilith-moon will say they're feeling that shit. this reminds of the song wildflower by billie eilish. this aspect is women talking shit about you, having trauma with you, women in your life judging you or pointing fingers at you for not falling into the "good girl" category. being told you're wrong for how you feel, feeling intense or moody and other people being able to pick up on it, other people seeing you as magnetic but also unpredictable and they can admire you for being real with them but it also might scare them, mom saying you are a wild child or just too much to deal with when you get "emotional", you wanting to yell "no im not fucking okay and im not gonna sit here and pretend I am"

Lilith-Venus aspects: men want you and see being with you as a challenge, they want to be with you to show off but then get mad when they cant change you, being called a "tease" or saying that you lead people on, men lying about you, spreading rumors about you, men saying they "talked to you" or dated you after texting you LMAOOO.. just fucking lying! being villanized for your beauty, your beauty feeling like its making you a target, women seeing you as competition, women spreading rumors about your beauty (oh she probably got this and this done or oh she shes only pretty because xyz), men in relationships looking at you and thinking you are manipulating them when you're not doing anything, feeling like anything venus related (beauty, art, relationships) in your life gets distorted, your relationships always feeling like a battlefield, being sensual + in tune with your femininity and then people expect you to tone it down, you might do something like wear red lipstick or heels or a nice dress and be told its too much but someone without this energy in their chart probs wouldnt get that reaction, you wondering "what's the difference between me and her? Why do they treat her like that and me like this?"

Lilith-Mercury aspects: being blunt, hurting someones feelings without meaning to, getting criticized for whatever you say, trying to be more "polite" but then it feels so exhausting, cursing a lot, cursing from a very young age and/or in professional settings, saying what other people refuse to say for the sake of being polite or because its a "superior" this is the person that in the meeting will the supervisor "In my opinion, this isnt a good idea and it isnt helpful to us", people talking shit behind your back, the person who dissects other peoples words down to the stutter, punctuation and fucking COMMA! How did they say it? What word did they say first? lilith-mercury will read between the lines and force you to say what you are refusing to say or putting in a passive aggressive manner, might refuse to engage with passive agressive people until they say it with their chest, "could you repeat that?" energy, "what did you mean by that?" energy knowing damn well what they meant, talking about politics at the dinner table during the family reunion, talking about sex in the break room at work, playing the devils advocate, reading smut, writing smut, loving dirty talk. trying to use their words for something good but people always making them feel like everything they say is just always wrong, pausing before they strike with their tongue, hating small talk, feeling uncomfy with small talk, people trauma dumping or ovesharing or vice versa, feeling suspcious of people that use pretty words with them, they wonder "What do they want from me? They're trying to get something from me...."

Lilith-Mars aspects: the first to get to moving and get shit down, getting easily annoyed at people that dont have the same drive, being angry at weak people or people that cant keep their word, "Are you gonna help or just fucking stand there?", being seen as abrassive, people avoiding you or shrinking back because of it, men wanting to compete with you, people feeling threatened by your ambition, the type to get nice things in life and people spread rumors that you had to xyz to get it, people thinking you're being confrontational or too angry when you address something face to face and up front, feeling out of control with your anger as a kid, people trying to push your buttons to try to get a reaction of you and then acting shocked when they do, fiercely independent in their routines, working out intensely, craving intensity in relationships, lines blurring between love and war "If I'm going to be the bad guy might as well get something out of it"

Lilith-Saturn aspects: a major dislike of authoritative figures, feeling resentful at being told what to do, wanting to do the opposite of what you do, "im not following this rule just because its always been followed", setting your own standards and expectations, "I prefer to find out for myself", questioning the system or cultural and societal norms and traditions that you find antiquated or unfair, people respecting you for your disciple but wishing you were easier to boss around, other people saying you're too cold or detached but you just dont wanna give them the chance to fuck you over, finding peace in the space between order and chaos and you perfecting that mix, wondering if life would be easier if you were "softer", choosing to form your own opinions on people, "thanks but I can decide for myself", feeling like you're held to expectations other people aren't

Lilith-Pluto aspects: not afraid to talk about the ugly shit in life, the taboo, trauma, control, power struggles, fear, jealousy because youve been familiar with it before, people being a little afraid of you, people saying youre too intense or even dangerous, people projecting onto you and getting mad or "disgusted" with you when you see right through them, being able to pick up on changes in peoples mannerisms, digging deeper in conversations, people suddenly confessing things to you, people not understanding why they feel drawn to your presence, people either approach it or go in the other direction, you come across as someone who has been through a lot but its only made you stronger, "im not afraid of the dark parts of life", going through something traumatic and years later thinking about it and coming to realization that you wouldn't change a thing, that it made you who you are, being okay with being seen as the villian in someones story

[ellecdc]

Evan's little freak (affectionate)

prompt: There's something oddly comforting to me about how if I was freaking out about something and they were in their blitzed out state they'd help me calm down while sort of thinking I was a weird freak. - @moonstruckme

poly!rosekiller x fem!reader who is having some sort of mental breakdown [1k words]

CW: reader is having a quasi-panic attack, rosekiller do their best to help but they truly Don't Get It™, they think she's weird but love her anyway

Evan found himself very much unprepared and ill equipped to handle this right now. 

You’d come flying into the flat in a tizzy rambling on and on about some great injustice or upheaval in your life at a million miles an hour without hardly even sparing him or Barty a glance. 

Granted, the second blunt may have been a little much, but he generally did not know how to handle big emotions. The horrified and uncomfortable expression that Barty was wearing told Evan that he, at least, felt the same. Neither boy grew up exactly encouraged to feel their feelings out loud; pushing down all upset didn’t exactly lend itself well to empathy and compassion.

He wondered if he was simply imagining the heavy smoke in the room or if you were just oblivious to it; either way, you were clearly not on the same level as the two boys.

He’d come to the conclusion about two and a half minutes into your tangent that no one was dead or dying, and when he deduced that those were the only scenarios worth this amount of anxiety, he more or less sort of tuned you out; only registering the panicky quality of your voice.

Barty had tried calling your name a few times which only seemed to spur you on and cause Barty to look over at him in a bemused sort of concern. “What the fuck? Are you seeing this?” Barty seemed to be asking. 

I am seeing this, what the fuck, indeed.

“Sugar,” Evan tried in his most authoritative tone, hoping to hell that his words didn’t sound as slow and languid as the felt on his tongue, “you need to settle down.”

That had, apparently, been the wrong thing to say if the way you turned your body towards him with wild eyes and nearly shaking hands meant anything. 

“I can’t!” You shrieked, causing Barty to actually wince at the pitch your voice took. 

“But…why not?” Barty asked cautiously, and you burst into tears.

“Fuck me.” Evan groaned under his breath as he stamped out the end of his blunt; he was clearly done for the day. “Alright, hold on. Let me get my shit together so I can talk some sense into you. Calm down.” 

“I can’t.” You keened, Evan tsked at you. 

“Jesus Christ, you’re wild today.” He commented as he flung open the windows. Barty was already in the kitchen grabbing bottles of water and some snacks; following proper sober up protocol. 

Evan took the time to actually move the ashtray to the opposite side of the room, hoping to have as clear a head as he possibly could to deal with his wound tight little minx. Ruining his high by being all adorable and weird.  You were lucky you were so cute. 

“Treasure, you need to go sit down.” Barty murmured then as you seemed to be frozen in some sort of panicky fright in the centre of the kitchen. “Or maybe light up for a minute…” He added sarcastically under his breath. Unfortunately for Evan, you heard him.

“I can’t do that, Barty! I get paranoid!”

“As opposed to whatever you are right now?” Barty asked incredulously then, and you let out a gut wrenching sob. 

“Okay! Okay, fuckin’ hell. Come here.” Evan called as he sat back down in his chair and beckoned you forward with one impatient hand. 

“This is too much, Sugar.” He chided as he pulled you down onto his lap. “You’re going to make yourself sick.” 

“But-”

“Enough; your only job is to breathe right now, got it?” 

You sucked in a shuddering breath as you nodded; eyes squeezed shut, forcing a steady stream of tears down your cheeks. You looked pitiful. 

“He didn’t say to hold your breath.” Barty commented gently as he sat on an ottoman in front of Evan’s chair and tried to hand each of you a bottle of water - Evan took both. But the breath that escaped your lips was forceful and left you panting for more. “Oi! Not like that, hey. Deeper breaths, Tres.”

“Y/N. Relax, doll. Relax. You’re fine.” Evan chided; his hand resting on your lower back and his thumb drawing circles at the space between the top of your jeans and the bottom of your shirt gave way to skin.

The flat fell quiet save for the sound of your breathing - at first shuddering, then practised and intentional, and finally settling into a more natural cadence - as Evan drew lines up and down your back with one hand and drew circles with his thumb on your knee with the other, and Barty fiddled distractedly with your fingers. 

“I’m sorry.” You whimpered eventually, and both Evan and Barty let out sighs of relief. 

“That was fucking wild, Treasure. Absolutely deranged.” Barty scolded playfully, pulling your fingers to his lips for a kiss.

“Scared the shit out of me, Sugar. I thought someone was dying.” 

“I didn’t mean to worry you…” you offered shyly, shoulders curling in on yourself as if you sort of wanted to disappear. Evan pulled you roughly into his chest and stamped a kiss to your forehead. 

“I’m always worried about you, weird little freak.”

“I’m gonna need like, five more blunts after that. Do I have grey hairs? I feel like I have grey hair now. You’re ageing me, Treasure. You’re sending me to an early grave.” Though you clearly accepted Barty’s teasing for what it was when you returned his kiss fervently. 

“No more blunts.” Evan called as Barty moved to put on a record. “Next time she comes in like a bat out of hell, I would like to have our wits about us. Hm? Give us a fighting chance.” 

“So we’re rawdogging our way through life from now on? Alright, Ev; but if I start having meltdowns like our perfect little freak over there, you’ll have no one to blame but yourself!” 

“....Maybe one blunt a day?” Evan asked you when Barty disappeared around the corner; murmuring the question into the slightly damp hairs at your temple.

“Maybe so.” You agreed with a tired chuckle turned sigh. He couldn’t blame you; if he was tired after all of that, you must be exhausted.

[ultravi0lence14]

Crush

dean winchester x fem!reader

2.6k | angst, fluff

summary: operation, have you and dean actually get along. that is all sam begged and pleaded to happen. though, it worked better than he initially had hoped.

sam believed that if he rolled his eyes anymore, they’d get stuck at the back of his head. he loved you, don’t get it twisted. it’s just that when you and dean were in the same room, things seemed to get a lot more. . . aggravating, to say it lightly.

the winchester brothers had met you around three years ago on a hunt in washington. a pesky demon is what brought you all together. well, it was more or less you and sam. dean was just an added on bonus that wasn’t really a bonus because you wanted to slap him across the face every ten seconds.

you and dean winchester hadn’t gotten along since the jump, and sam could easily vouch for the statement since he’d been in the middle of the lengthy feud for many years. dean was cocky, stubborn, and always had to be right, something you couldn’t stand. as someone who strived on being independent, a man like dean was a thorn in your side.

for years, anytime sam called you to help on a case, or you three were in the same place at the same time, you and dean would always end up in some kind of fight. whether it be his idea was better than yours or dean’s constant need to blare his music in the car it didn’t matter. you would always fight and sam would always dream of cutting his eyes out with a blunt butter knife

this hunt wasn’t any different. a witch had been using the residents of a small town in mississippi as her personal test dummy’s. droppings bodies left, right, and centre. so with a call from sam, you hopped on a bus and met the two brothers at their motel in kentucky, ready to join the hunt.

dean always teased you for not having a constant form of transportation, but you weren’t a douche who rode in a classic muscle car. especially one who was attached to it as a baby is to their bottle, so his digs just went completely deaf to you.

knocking on the winchester’s motel room door, sam greeted you with a gleaming smile on his face. arms extended for a hug, you cuddled into his chest and rested your head by his shoulder, catching a glimpse of dean shovelling a mini pie into his mouth.

when the older brother caught your eye, he just scoffed. hands moving to cross over his chest as you stepped away from sam and did the same.

“we really don’t need her help sammy.” dean practically snarled, mouth tilting up in a devious smirk. “she’s probably already got plans with all her little pals on the bus.”

sam just sighed, already mentally prepared for the kindergarten level digs you two were going to throw at each other. he almost left the room as he watched your shoulders square and your jaw clench. “oh very funny dean.” you retorted, hands resting in your pockets so you didn’t choke the man. “why don’t i just go slash all your tires? then maybe we can be bus buddies.”

“don’t you dare even think about touching my baby!” dean’s finger had lifted in the air in a pointing motion at you, and sam felt his hands lift up and slap against his thighs. “oh dear god, you guys are killing me! there’s people who need are help, and you two fighting like an old married couple isn’t going to help them.”

the sour look on your face when sam mentioned you and dean in the same sentence as married couple could’ve been made as a reaction photo, yet sam and dean didn’t acknowledge it as they led the way outside and to the infamous chevy impala.

nothing could ever prepare sam for the long car rides with you and his brother. it was either copious hours of bickering or a tense silence that had sam so uncomfortable he questioned if walking was a good idea.

this time the silence was so thick, sam genuinely reached his breaking point. Years of breaking up your arguments and having to be the middleman drove him to a dire conclusion; he needed to get you and Dean to like each other.

the plan was truly fool proof. force the two of you to work on the case together and boom, all the arguing and petty fights would be a faraway memory. sam had to contain his grin when he mentioned that interviewing the families is more of a one person job than going to the morgue. his grin didn’t leave his face even as he mentioned that he was better with comforting grieving families than either you or dean.

no words were spoken between you and dean in the car ride towards the morgue. in all honesty, you never knew what to say to the man. he was always angry, finding something to get mad about and always finding a way for it to be your fault.

truthfully, maybe that’s why you hated him. he never let you explain yourself, always jumping to conclusions and blaming you for the smallest things. if it wasn’t for his quick temper and communication issues, you’d probably have a huge crush on the man.

it was dean winchester at the end of the day. and as much of a dick as he was to you, you witnessed those moments he had with sam or with a family member or victim on a case where he wasn’t an absolute dickhead. it was sad really, how much dean hated you. sam spoke up and down that you and dean would be a great duo, yet you never got to prove him right or wrong since his older brother couldn’t go five minutes without arguing with you.

although, something you weren’t aware of was that dean’s thoughts were very similar to yours. he didn’t know why you got under his skin, yet he couldn’t stop thinking about you for weeks after you would leave.

the man knew there was nothing wrong with you. he was just stubborn, and pushing people away before he got too close to them was his specialty. what if you became someone special in his life? what if because of that, you died, and then dean would blame himself for the rest of his life.

it was easier to keep you at an arms length than to get too close, and yeah sam would say he was being childish, but dean didn’t really care. you hating him and staying alive was better than him meaning something to you and that being the reason you were dead.

the trip to the morgue was awkward for the better part. you were trying to rid your mind of any thoughts you had on dean in the car and the man in question was trying his best to remain a good foot away from you. both of you could tell that something had shifted in that stupid ten minute car ride, but neither of you wanted to bring it up.

sam knew something was up when he met with you and dean again. it wasn’t even close to his end goal, but he knew that he was getting close to the feud between you and dean to finally be over.

his final shove was suggesting that you and dean check out the home of moira carlson while he goes to talk to the sheriff in charge of the murders. an argument raged on, but begrudgingly, you and dean left together to go investigate the number one suspects home.

dean had gotten to the home in under ten minutes, and now you found yourself and dean sneaking around the back of mrs carlson’s home to slip in the back door.

a scoff could be heard behind you. and as you turned around, you saw dean with an exasperated look on his face. “jesus woman, can you breathe any louder?”

the pettiness of dean’s complaint just had you rolling your eyes, turning back so you could make your way to where the sliding back door was; unlocked thankfully.

moira carlson’s home definitely screamed evil witch who enjoys killing people. occult items and witchy like items were sprawled around the living and dining room. a big pot in the kitchen alongside weird looking herbs also tipped you off. you would’ve mentioned how cliche all of this was if dean didn’t drop and shatter a statue like a dumb ass.

“are you serious!” you exclaimed, whipping around to look at dean’s hunched figure, trying to clean the broken pieces of the statue in a hurry. “can you not be a complete oaf for one damn second?”

the eldest winchester just laughed humourlessly, standing back up with all the broken pieces in his hand. “i’m not the one stomping around like an ogre. she can be home for all we know.”

“coming from the guy with the cinder blocks for shoes.” you scoffed, both you and dean looking down at his monstrous boots. “all of this complaining is really rich coming from you, dean winchester.”

it seemed that at that very moment, dean had enough of your guys’ bickering. with a wild look in his eye, dean flew off the handle in a way that you probably wouldn’t be able to describe in full accuracy ever again. he started off with a disbelieved “really!” and then ranted on for longer than you ever could’ve pictured.

“how is it possible that you think i’m the one always complaining, miss whines a lot.” your eyes buggered out of your head as you looked on past dean. “you know, i’ve been keeping my cool for sammy’s sake but you are really a piece of work. i know i’m not the best person to be around 24/7 but cmon, can you not try and be civil for once?”

he kept going. yet you weren’t focused on whatever dean was saying, for moira carlson, in all of her evil witchy goodness, was coming up behind dean with a spell on her tongue that did not look friendly at all.

“dean.” you muttered, watching as the now ghastly looking woman got closer. he didn’t listen though, just threw his arms in the air and let his hands reside on his hips like a child. “oh so mature y/n. go on and interrupt me-“

“get down you idiot!” your body smacked down to the floor just as the witch threw dean across the room. poor bastard didn’t even have time to turn around. attempting to take shelter behind the sofa, you grabbed on to dean’s sprawled body and shuffled across the floor while trying to shoot at mrs carlson.

somehow, you got the two of you behind the sofa, propping dean in a sitting position before resting your body over the couch so you could take a shot. dean was frantically texting sam, warning his brother about what danger you two were in while wheezing in the air that got knocked out of his lungs.

with a mighty wave of her hand, the witch blew the couch into two pieces. dean’s body slumped back to the floor, too bruised and in pain to allow the man to even move a muscle. a loud cackle could be heard as mrs carlson moved in on dean, ready to deliver her final blow.

she was about to, if it wasn’t for your gun going off at the perfect time and striking her right in her forehead. the woman slumped to the ground beside dean, the man in question shimmying as far away from her as possible before you rushed over and propped him up on the nearest wall.

“oh god.” you mumbled, watching as dean nearly coughed up a lung. you knew he was okay, he took worse beating than this. it was just the fact of seeing him get thrown around like a rag doll that had an emotion bubbling to the forefront of your mind. one you never thought you’d experience towards dean.

waving you off, dean sat himself up straighter and took a deep intake of air. “i’m okay y/n, it’s fine. though you probably just saved my life.” dean all of a sudden had the realization that he didn’t need to be so closed off all this time. you could easily handle your own, and having someone like you would probably be the best thing that ever happened to him.

a sheepish blush rose to your cheeks as dean stared at you longer, and suddenly, you realized that maybe the man wasn’t as bad as you initially thought. deep down, you cared about him. yeah, you two could fight like cats and dogs, but so does everyone. at the end of the day, you would always be there for dean and he’d do the same for you.

“i’m sorry for how i’ve treated you these past couple of years.” your random word vomit had dean snapping his head up, eyes wide and mouth agape as he stared at your nervous features. “i know you have your own way of doing things and i shouldn’t pester you about everything. it sucks that you probably still hate me, but can we please work on us-“

“i never hated you.” dean cut you off so quickly it was almost like he couldn’t bare hold down those words any longer. your nervous face turned shocked, and suddenly dean had the confidence to say what he always wanted to. “ever since i was young, every person i’ve ever cared about either leave’s or dies, and i somehow just knew that you were special the first moment i met you.” a somber smile appeared on your face, and you found yourself moving closer and closer to dean as he continued to speak.

“i’m sorry i never gave you a chance sweetheart, but would you give me one now?” you didn’t have to be asked twice, for in an instant you perched yourself in dean’s lap and smashed your lips onto his.

dean didn’t take long to reciprocate your actions. hands moving to go around your waist and nestle in your hair while your own gripped tightly onto his t shirt. dean’s mouth was exploring all the places he wished he could’ve kissed you sooner. your soft lips, all around your face. when he moved on to placing sloppy kisses on your neck, you felt the vibrations of his voice against your skin as he kept mumbling. ‘so perfect’ and ‘you’re so beautiful, everything i could ever dream of.’

unknown to the two of you, sam had just walked in the front door and was ready to defend you all against the destructive witch. though to his surprise — and slight disgust if he was being honest, he stepped into the living room to see you and dean behind a destroyed couch. the two of you were heavily making out and dean just put it upon himself to wrap his one arm around the underside of your ass, hoisting you further up on his body and giving it a firm squeeze in the process.

“well fuck.” sam mumbled to himself, slightly gagging up his salad from lunch as he watched dean pull your head back by a tuft of your hair and start leaving trails of hickeys down your neck.

“yeah, that’s enough of that.” the youngest winchester just silently mumbled to himself as he walked back outside the front door, leaving you and dean in the middle of a random house to sort out all of your pent up feelings in a way he definitely shouldn’t be seeing.

[alwaysshallow]

― blood on my shirt, rose in my hand

SUMMARY: Simon Riley knows you have bad experiences with dating, but he also knows you don't really need no one but him. He's gonna provide you anything. So you can imagine how he could change, when for the first time, you think you've found the one man who's right for you. To your surprise, weird events happen during the time you date Nick. Thankfully, Simon's there to help you. (11,4k)

READ ON AO3

A/N: this is SUCH a long piece, so some of it is here, but the full version is on AO3. i hope you're gonna forgive me for this one </3

"It's not like I'm ugly, right? I thought about it. If I'm ugly, so that's why it doesn't work out." you sip your favorite wine, looking right at your best friend, who has been listening for the past hour your ramblings about dating.

"You're fuckin' stupid, but not ugly, pet."

He's the best friend in the world – you can say this, meaning it with your whole heart. In fact, he's the best friend everyone probably wished to have, at least in your mind. Not only here for you, but loyal, you can tell him basically anything. He wouldn't say a thing, even if someone was nagging, and he was mostly a good adviser; all the qualities you looked for in a best friend, right?

And he was brutally honest, like right now, but you don't mind it. Simon Riley had this thing, and even if sometimes you were almost offended at his bluntness (like this one time, when he told you you're a crying mess and you act… worse than a toddler), you mostly appreciated it. Your other friends couldn't compare to his honesty, this man was not the one to lick your ass.

Or, so you thought.

"Excuse me?" you raise your eyebrow, laughing, while shaking your head. "You should, I don't know, tell me I'm amazing and they don't deserve me. Or so." you joke; it causes him to roll his eyes.

"That's what I told you. Different words, but the same thingy."

"Right."

It sometimes sucks for you that Simon isn't a girl. He has this unbelieveably annoying guy thing, where he just can't be delusional with you, and he can't just mourn over some hot guy. His way of thinking is… on the other level, he totally skips the mourn part, the part that is pathetic; he's just saying things like "move on" and "there's a lot of them anyway". Again, you love it, but you really wish you could cry about guy being so pretty that it hurts, without him rolling his eyes.

Yet, when you're more in mad mood than mourning one, his attiude is just perfect. He's the one to encourage you to scream, he even brought you a few times to rage room when you needed to smash a few things, not to mention the attiude he was setting you in. Powerful, not giving a shit about a "piece of a man that doesn't deserve you".

Simon sighs. "You're worryin' too much. Really that desperate?"

You huff, as you sink more into the plushy couch in your apartment. "I'm not desperate. It's just…" you take a few seconds to think "being love starved."

"Sex starved, you mean."

"Love starved." you send him a look.

"Mhm. You fancy plushies, hugs, and all shite like this?"

"You're so fucking British, it hurts" you laugh. "Yeah. Yeah, I want something like this. Someone to hold me, someone that cares about me and I know it. Sex comes in package, of course, but it's just… ugh, I want a man" you groaned.

You feel as pathetic as ever, when Simon doesn't respond – because how exactly should he? He wasn't vocal about things like this, he usually just nod his head, and there it was, another topic. A miracle it was that he was already listening to your date rambling, not cutting it off because he was uncomfortable or something.

Dreams about your love life… more girly conversation.

Mostly – you know guys who loved talking about it, obviously, and you adore it pretty much, especially when you can know their perspective on some things, but… Riley wasn't really one of them. He had "simple hookups" as he said one day, when you asked him about doing double-dates. It wasn't even an option, he just liked to ocassionally fuck and that's all.

So you stopped trying a few months ago for a double-date. Instead, you focused more on finding a man that would meet your expectations at least in the middle, and that was exhausting, to be honest. Tinder dates were just a disaster after disaster – if it wasn't some catfish, a guy that wanted to marry you and have kids after two weeks of writing, it was most definitely a guy with a desire to bang you quickly.

Romance was dead these days, you noticed. That wouldn't keep you away from trying to find someone, though. Patience was a key in things like these.

"Maybe you will set me up with one your friends? It wouldn't suck. You know them." you think out loud.

"Definitely too much wine f'you." Simon takes your glass, and pours all of the liquid to his mouth, swallowing it like it was some kind of juice, not alcohol. "You don't want a guy from military in your life. Trust me."

There's some sternness to his tone, at which you raise your eyebrow. It was just a funny comment from your side, nothing else – you know by the heart that this man doesn't like the idea of connecting his two worlds. "I know, Simon. Just joking, right?"

You place a hand on his. It's a comedic, yet, heartwarming view, when you see the size difference.

"And, you're pretty cool for a military guy."

He huffs. It seems like pretty cool offends him, but he doesn't say it out loud, so it can be only your imagination working. "You met me before I enlisted. 's different."

"How different?"

"You knew me before military."

He doesn't give you another answer that night, nor the continuation of this one – he brushes you off, like you are some kind of bug that is disturbing him, and brings up another topic, about his deployment. He asks if you can watch his apartment when he's gone, take care of it; it's stupid, Simon knows that you will always agree, but it's the need of asking you anyway.

And, he likes coming home, where he can smell your perfume, where he can see that you made some changes. You tend to do that a lot, mostly buying stuff to his apartment. "It looks worse than room in the hospital" you always say, when he cocks his eyebrow with amusement. He doesn't say that, but he finds it really adorable that you care so much, to make his space… cozier, even if he's not really attached to it. Mostly, it's for your comfort when you come to visit him, and that happens a lot; not like he minds it. Anyone else would be banned from his apartment, but you? Oh God, you wouldn't be, not in the milion years.

You could probably be the worst ever to him; call him names, punch, anything, and he would still be your Simon. It's what he was used to, to being by your side, no matter what time, no matter if you were in the good mood or not; your presence was everything to him.

Not like he'd ever confess that, but it is what you know, silently.

Yet, you are so good to him. Always sending him letters or texting him when he is on deployment. A couple of times, you sent him little things too, if he forgot something, photos included too, but new ones; mostly you captured views, but you were here once or twice. His happiness may not be that visible to outsiders, but his heart is full every time.

"My girl", he'd tell boys when they saw a polaroid of you, swiftly tucking it into his vest because no one was allowed to see it more than three seconds.

Often, Gaz joked if you are actually his girl even if you're not dating, but it sounded so bizzare to Ghost. How would you not be his? Thirteen years of friendship counted as something beyond being only his best friend, no? At least in his mind it was like this. He was used to you dating briefly other guys, but it lasted maybe a few months top. Nothing serious, probably his hookups were more meaningful than your relationships.

So you can easily imagine his confusion, when your mutual friends tell him big news about your new object of interest; someone that he doesn't even know yet, but he's not really his fan on the beggining.

It was just a month of being away.

His eyes are on you now; you are embarrassed, looking anywhere but at him. You don't even speak, you just wave your hand in dismissive manner, trying to change the topic because you don't really want to talk about it. Not in the presence of your best friend, at least.

It works for everyone but Simon, and you know it by the way he looks at you, processing what he just heard. Changing a topic, sudden talkativeness from your side is like buying time in that, time precious to think what to say to your best friend later on.

Because you know for the fact that he'll ask. He always does, and now he has a reason.

You have your reasons why you haven't told him. "It's nothing serious. That's why I didn't tell you." your voice is a little more silent than usual, but he can hear it anyway. You two are taking a walk to your apartment with no one around; and it's awkward one.

Simon seems like he doesn't want to say anything about your poor choice of men. It worries you; he always wanted somehow to make fun of you or make comment. Now, it's just a nod, like he gets it, but you know it's not it. He doesn't get it.

But you don't know what it is.

"C'mon!" you nudge him, and when it doesn't seem to affect him, you stand right in front of him. A little wobbly because of alcohol, your vision isn't so great too, but it makes him stop in his tracks. "Say something."

"Somethin'" he grumbles, and you can't help but roll your eyes. "What? Told me-"

"-I know what I told you!" you cup his face in your hands. Your head is a bit hazy, but the intensions are clear; making him talk and soft. It always works, so you have a lot of hope. "He's a good guy, but I want to meet him a bit closer to be… certain about him, you know? You've heard me whining about boys a bit too much."

"You can tell me everything." he muses, and you can't help but smile at that. Of course – of course you can tell him everything. You never doubted it for a second, and you think of yourself as stupid, doubting that he wouldn't want to hear about it. "Ill be the judge of that, though. Good guy thing."

"I can't be trusted?" you tease, and when he lets out a low chuckle, you grin even more. It's like a reward after him being his grumpy self.

"No." he shakes his head. "You don't know what is good for you. But that's why I'm here."

Under the influence of alcohol, you didn't pay too much of attention to his words; probably you wouldn't pay attention to it even if he'd say this when you are sober. Simon as your protector – it's so natural, you don't even need to think about it as something weird. It's just the way things are for thirteen years, everyone knows this.

Your friends, who were a bit reluctant on the beggining, but two parties later, when he joined the competition of drinking on time and wasn't drunk at all, he won over their hearts.

It was tougher with your parents, when you were in highschool. A little distanced at first, they constantly asked where were his parents (which, you told them, was rude asking, especially to his face), telling you how much of a bad news he could be for you. Suggestion of him ruining your future was the worst, you never thought of him this way; that discussion caused you to give them the silent treatment for a few days.

Apparently after that, suggesting that Simon is around you too much, clinging to your side and giving you "weird glances", they stopped the narrative, admitting that the boy might be damaged, but not broken. You still felt like they're judging their every move, but seeing that he had pretty good life plan, seeing that he thought about military and went here actually? Hell, they completely stopped being suspicious in any means.

Riley just had this thing of charming people, even if they didn't like him in the beggining. He had everything under his finger, trying to keep things under control – it was like that… pretty much since the beggining of his life. You met him when he was an adult, but he always liked to keep things under control; people, things that he cared about. What belonged to him was sacred, untouchable for anyone else.

The possessiveness started in his early childhood with toys, when he absolutely despised everyone who just wanted to touch his things, to lay their dirty, filthy fingers here. In early classes, it was considered just rude.

When he was older though, he started fighting for various things. Knowing he has the advantage, he used his legs, fists, when he had to, and no one was looking, besides the actual victim. He wasn't stupid; he knew how troublesome the public can be, he also knew the power of manipulation a bit too well to get caught so easily. Wasn't the plan, getting caught; it once happened, but because he wanted to; he even broke his own nose, making it like the other guy did it, just to get what he needed. The reputation of kid who was broken in the childhood, so he's just not opening on others was… suitable, for him. No one could suspect anything, especially when the kid just happened to be "attacked" by one of the popular ones, right?

The idea of power was something that Simon truly desired from the beggining; maybe it has something to do with the lack of his parents in his life, being transferred from one foster family to another. Maybe it's just him being a little fucked up – who knows.

What mattered, was the fact he had you. You, so sweet, so considerate to be by his side, to be protected by him, to be the person who "opened" because of her. Little did you know, he opened just because he wanted to be closer to you, not those fuckers you hang out with.

If you knew his past, you would have another reasons in mind, why he showed up to meet your potential new boyfriend. Jealousy, posessiveness, power complex, him being a control freak who can't give you to anyone he personally doesn't trust – if ever, considering you were his precious best friend. He isn't willing to share.

You aren't really aware of him being this crazy. You think of his flaws, and you see someone that has been damaged, someone that you can and will help, if he just asks for it – or if you'll see he needs it. So, naturally, you help, and grin the widest you can, when you see him in the door. He shows completely unexpected. It doesn't take you long to wrap your hands around his neck, tight, as you hug him.

Happy as always because you can see your friend, happy as ever because moments like these means a lot to you. When he's deployed, you can't even see him, so you're taking all in when he's right in front of you.

"Hope 'm not interruptin'." he murmurs into your hair, as his head is practically buried in them; he has to bend down a little to be at your level, but it's something he enjoys. The power.

"Never." you say immediately, not even hesitating in your statement. "Actually, you found a pretty good moment."

"That I did, eh?" his eyebrow arches, as he straightens up.

"As always. Nick's here, you have to meet him."

|READ THE REST ON AO3|

[orkbutch]

You may think Shadowheart isn't significantly horny as a character compared to Halsin's free-love horniness, or how much Astarion flirts (which he does despite being very Uncomfortable with sex which kinda supports my read), or how blunt and freaky Lae'zel is, or how touch starved Karlach is. But I beg you to consider how private a person Shadowheart is, and how despite this filter she STILL says some of the horniest shit in this game. Shes one of the few companions thats enthusiastic about poly, about sharing you with the drow twins, and shes openly a lover of S/m... while being so private she resents you asking her for basic info early on. Seriously. Untold levels of horny she simply doesn't show. I think she's top 1 or 2 horny tbh the others just dont have boundaries

[lesbiandonnanoble]

ranking torchwood members by how nightmarish the blunt rotation would be. number 6 ultimate least worst is gwen but only because i love drama so much and don’t mind comforting people if they cry. any smoke sesh w gwen you’d walk away knowing the funniest most insane interpersonal drama on the planet. three hits in her eyes would already be getting red and she would lean over and say “SWEAR to me you won’t repeat this to anyone, but” gwen babygirl i am all ears. i would roll for you and just sit and watch you smoke it. at #5 honorary mention for suzie. she would find the perfect music for the vibe. she would roll an immaculate joint. the conversation would be heartfelt, pleasant. real.. by the time i realize i’m slowly dying and she’s gaining strength i wouldn’t even care tbh. ideal joint-sharing experience. #4 would be owen because i know that as long as i laughed at his jokes he would smoke me up indefinitely. his delusion that he’s cool and badass would get more embarrassing and apparent when high like mac it’s always sunny levels . and you might have to suffer some hero complex stories but i just know his very cool-looking bong has crystal clear water the second he knows anyone’s coming over. #3 is easily ianto. high chances of bringing a really uncomfortable weird energy to any smoke sesh. i once met a guy who said he’d been practicing rolling joints since he was a kid with paper and pencil shavings and then rolled the joint that fucked me the hardest i’ve ever experienced and that’s what smoking ianto’s shit would be like. except he’s just sitting there looking at you with wet dog eyes the whole time. his vibe would be still weirdly too professional, like the business major who tries to network at house parties. toshiko my lady.. second worst person to smoke with in torchwood not for any awful reason. her jokes would be the funniest out of all of them. her laugh would be enchanting. but you can tell she’s so nervous and trying too hard and the vibe gets more and more awkward and you desperately want to tell her it’s fine but you worry calling attention to it might make her feel worse and you stare at her and she stares at you, takes a beautiful bong rip, and says something so self deprecating you have to look away. the #1 most nightmarish person to share a joint with in torchwood is obviously jack. he pulls out a bag of purple shit, a strain he informs you is called ‘megacock OG’, and loads it into his 23rd century fucking instant vaporizer and promises it’s “got a hell of a kick” and you blink and it’s 20 minutes later and you’re flinching nearly shitting yourself every time his stupid fucking dinosaur swoops overhead ,sweating buckets, and he’s grinning slapping the table laughing opposite you while his genuinely cringeworthy sex stories, seemingly endless, ring in your ears like churchbells.

[meanbossart]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A couple of other things that might be of note:

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

[granolawriting]

Sarahs teacher ༊*·˚

pairing: no breakout!Joel x fem reader

Summary: Joel saves you from a uncomfortable interaction with a drunk, and it quickly devolved with him fucking you in a single stall at the bar. Though when you see the little drawings his daughter leaves in his car, you peice together your connection only after it's too late.

Content warning: 18+ NSFW, age gap, grey hairs so hes about that old, picture part 2 joel cause he's the sexiest, also this outfit he has on is pretty acruate to how I pictured him while writing, hair pulling, p in v, creampie, surface level degrading (slut, whore), praise degrading (pretty slut), pet names (darling, sweetheart, baby), southern hospitality!, crazy confident and blunt, breif harassment (not by joel), biting, leaving a mark, dom!Joel, sarah mentioned/met

word count: 4.4k

masterlist

inspired / requested by this wonderful anon!

Clanging of glass against wooden tables, the saturated musk of whiskey and heated bodies overwhelms your senses as you walk within the bar. 

You watch as men raise voices in argument over games blaring on TVs hung high over the center of the room, feeling eyes trace your shape as you make your way to the counter. 

“Just water for now, please.” 

The bartender obliged, and as you sit down upon old wooden barstools with short backs to provide minor support to your height off the ground, a pair of eyes seems to fall on you that feels a bit more welcomed than those prior. 

Hair fell long right above his eye, salt and peppered hair that was well groomed though currently unkempt in a way-- as though the day had been long on him. Multicolored stubble compliments the smirk of the man that gazed upon you with dark brown eyes hooded by thick lashes. His skin was tanned, and complemented greatly by the dark brown of his jacket coupled with the muted greens of a flannel below it. He had his sleeves rolled up, seeing both his elbows placed on the counter as a glass of whisky was held lightly between a few fingers over the cup just a few inches from his face did he soak in every part of you with his gaze. 

His eyes resting on yours set your body aflame, the confidence of his intent made you compelled to want to let him do whatever he wished. A man probably twice your age, like a fine wine did he fire off nerves within you that even men you adored couldn't properly emulate. He was experienced, cocky. He wasn't shy about getting what he wanted like most men your age, and that felt new to you. 

You were getting ahead of yourself, within the few seconds that held eye contact between you and this stranger you felt an eternity of lust seep deep in the pits of your stomach. There was no means to even believe that was his intent, the most you can really give yourself was the complement of his elongated gaze affixed on you. But after a few moments his eyes tore away and engaged in what played on the TVs, and watched as the people went by. Leaving you to yourself for a moment to yearn for him, after so much as a glance. 

… 

“This drink came from the man right down there.” 

What sat before you was some sort of vodka tonic, and as your head moved to glance upon that stranger once more with a welling of anticipation for his next move, a different hand shot out and waved to claim that prize. Your heart sank. Some 20 something stood to approach you, a hat upon laid back hair that sported some football team you knew nothing about, and the careful steps of a man trying to impress whilst also being a few drinks in. he slides up tho the empty space on the counter next to you, and elbow propped against your side to lean in, does the stench of cheap liquor and sweat permeate your senses as he begins to talk to you. 

“Mm, what's your name, pretty lady?” 

A scoff quietly escapes you as the slur of his words make any attempt at flattery obsolete.

“What's it to you?” 

Brows furrow at the harsh response to his kind gesture, he retorts;

“Well I just bought you that drink didn't i? Don't I deserve a little somethin?” 

A little something what do you look like? A hooker? 

“You don't deserve a damn thing. I didn't ask for this cheap thing.” 

He leans in a bit closer to you, closing the gap of space between your body and his as you grow increasingly uncomfortable with his advances with no way out.

“Oh come on don't be like that, listen, how about we get a few more and you can join my buddies over there. We’ll have fun.” 

Slowly you move yourself away from his body inching closer to you,

“No, I think I'm good where I'm at.” 

He grabs your wrist as you try to leave, with the untamed grip of a man not wholly sober and increasingly offended; 

“Oh don't be like that, are you even here with everyone? You’re just asking for attention.” 

A new voice chimes in from behind the both of you. 

“Now, the lady said she don't want anythin to do with you. Aint no sense in tryna force her, especially if you want to keep that nose of yours unbroken. Ya understand me boy?” 

The stranger from earlier, carrying deep southern drawl and a sternness in his voice comes to you like a guardian angel. He looms over the short heighted man in comparison, with an air of dominance and intimidation that supersedes anything that that could have done in comparison. 

“You didn't tell me you were with someone. I.. I'm sorry sir.” 

His voice shrinks at the sight of conflict with him, he turns to you then to him for apology, before scampering off to his friends with a tail between his legs. 

The man turns to face you now, dwarfing you in his shadow as he looks at you. There's a kind smile in his eyes, with a soft smirk on his lips as he goes to take the place of the man before him. 

“I'm sorry that man was bothin ya darlin’. Aint no way to treat a lady like you.” 

your ears perk up at that final part-- a lady like you. You feel flush at his flattery, giving a moment to shift your body closer to his ever so slightly to lean into his words. 

“A lady like me hm? And what does that mean?” 

Once again he doesn't properly cower at the confrontation of very bold flirting -- you can tell this isn't his first time playing this kind of game. And you were more than glad to play along. 

“Well, just mean a lady pretty as you, that's all.” 

Coy smile coats his face as he takes another sip of his drink.

“Oh well, thank you sir. Can't say it's every day a handsome man like you comes to my rescue.” 

Sir. his eyes flick up from his drink to the sound of that, and you notice this time. 

“No bother, names Joel.” 

Joel. Where have I heard that name before? 

“Ahh, well, sir Joel, I'll be heading to the bathroom for a bit. Think you'll still be here when i'm back?” 

You hop out of your chair, brushing off and readjusting the dress you wore as you centered yourself on the floor once more. 

“Mm I'm sure I will sweetheart.” 

He smiles as his drink is raised to his lips once more from hovering fingers over it's top, he sends you off with a wink and the knowledge that as you walk away he gets a greater view of the body he could only see from across the bar. 

…

Knock knock 

“I'm in here.” 

In a single stall are you leaning over a metal sink to correct makeup and hair in the mirror of the bathroom. You didn't need to use the bathroom, just needed to fix your makeup if you thought you could have any more confidence with Joel. 

Knock knock knock 

“Dude- i'm fucking in here.” 

You go to open the door and chew out whoever was pounding on the door, like there weren't other stalls to use. Though as you crack open the side of it you see Joel standing before you, before quickly pushing his way inside it as well. Turning you around does he pin you against the wall adjacent to the door itself. 

“Listen here darlin’. I wont play coy, there aint nothin I want to do to you more right now then to have ya all to myself. I cant fuckin stand it.” 

His hand lays flat on your shoulder as it pushes you against the wall, the other hand making its way to cup your jaw. His calloused fingers stroke your cheek as you stand there speechless. 

“Use your words baby. Come on, I know you fuckin want it.” 

“Y-- yes sir. I…I wouldn't mind” 

You stammer out a weak consent that seems to be the only thing that can come to mind as you grow intoxicated by his scent, his aura. Whisky coats his breath as he looms over you, the smell of his cologne masking scents of sawdust and tobacco as you feel his heat on you with how close he stands to you. 

“Good.” 

His lips smash into yours, feeling his tongue immediately trying to invade every part of your mouth, taste every last drop of your spit as though he was addicted to it. His hands trail up and down your body as his fingers pay no regard to the loose fabric that made up your dress. Gripping your waist he let up from your kiss, turning you around to face the mirror that was just moments ago used as a means to fix your makeup, now you found yourself pushed down onto the cold metal of the sink that still held your eye makeup and brushes. His hands traced all up and down your back as though he was worshiping the body below him, standing right at your backside you could feel his bulge growing from the inside of his worn jeans. 

Fuck hes big. 

His body falls to cup yours, fully clothed does the request become but a low whisper deep in your ear as his hand trails up your neck to your hair, pulling it back as your back arches to compliment the placement of his bulge. 

“Good girl. Now don't you look so pretty?” 

He refers to the mirror in front of you, and as you gaze at yourself within it you see hairs falling in front of your face, as arms twice as large as yours grip onto your hair to force your face to look directly within the mirror. You look at him, watching as his face contorted into what looked like a proud lion with his fresh prey. His smirk was selfish, and the way he looked at your body made you feel naked. Undressing what was left of you with his eyes, he didn't leave any more room for imagination as he let up from you for a moment to unbuckle his belt. Watching as the jeans fell to the floor with a heavy clunk, and all that remained was his boxers that swiftly followed. You couldn't see his cock, but as he grazed it along your folds you could just feel how much there was. 

“Now ain't that a sight. All this ‘cause of me hm? Gotta say I'm honored.” 

He pushes your panties down, a trail of your own slick following suit that leaked down your thigh unabashedly. You feel a heavy hand pressed down onto your back. 

“Arch your back for me darlin’.” 

And as you do so, you feel him grab your ass, slapping it and pulling it apart to look at your heat before you could feel his tip directly at your entrance. He lets it linger for a moment, cupping himself to you slightly and brings your hair back to look at the mirror once more. 

“Look how pretty of a fuckin’ slut you are baby. Absolutely drenched for my cock, you better take it good alright? I'm not here to play nice with ya’.” 

You nod your head as much as you could in understanding before you felt him piercing you. It was so much, too much. You felt as though you were going to be split open entirely as the first pulse he did in you felt as though he’d never reach the base. As he grew to be halfway inside of you you felt full to the brim, biting your lip with closed eyes to try and take it all without a whine. 

You feel a jerk of your hair as he went deep into you. You felt his body flush against yours but with eyes closed he yanked your neck up to look at him. 

“Don't close your eyes, baby. I want you to look at me.” 

A steady pace was founded soon after, feeling him go in and out of you elicited timed whines and moans, your brain felt as though it was melting in a way, the only thing that your body could think of as every pounding force inside of you made your nerves shoot off and you felt it everywhere in your body. Down to your fingers was the sense of taking in every vein, every curve, every little inch of his cock as it used you like you were some toy. 

Your fingers fall to your own clit, desperate to cum on his cock already do you draw circles over your own throbbing parts, as your mind grows numb at the feeling of the two combined. Though Joel is quick to notice. 

“Do you want to fuckin’ cum for me darlin’? Come on now all ya gotta use is your words and I can do all that for you. You're mine right? My pretty little slut.” 

His free hand snakes over your thigh to find your fingers, pushing them aside as his calloused fingers match the same motion you had just done but with greater intensity. Your whole body is at his disposal, feeling nothing but the pleasure he's giving you, your hands grasp at nothing to try and stabilize yourself against his cock. Looking at the mirror he forces you to watch as he groans over you, watching the sweat drip off his hair down onto his chest as he grows less and less controlled in his movements. You watch as your own face pathetically contorts into inexplicable pleasure, you are addicted to him. The way his cock feels inside of you, his fingers on your clit. You feel your heat building up in your stomach quickly, a flame sweltering in your stomach that was going to peak at any moment. 

“God-- fuck Joel, i’m going to cum. Oh my god--” 

You feel yourself contract on top of his cock, your insides desperately wrapped around him as you finish. your legs shake but as he presses himself into you even more you cant move almost anywhere. 

“Fuck you feel so good, god-- so fuckin’ good i'm--” 

His fingers still trace a sensitive clit as your body moves involuntarily to the rhythm of his cock inside of you, your body completely overwhelmed as he finishes inside of you after only a few more strokes, you feel a heat fill deep inside of you. Keeping it in for a second does the excess of his finish seep out of the edges of you, trailing down your leg onto the floor. 

Jagged breath fills the air that was once filled with groans and whimpers, shallow breaths to try and come back to reality fill your lungs as you lay against the counter ever still. You listen as Joel adorns his jeans once more, looping the belt into propper hole before grabbing paper towels from the nearby dispenser. His hands travel down the side of your leg where you and him mixed together in remis of pleasure and slowly takes the dry towel to it, mopping up all that he left on you. 

“Here ya go darlin’. Now, turn ‘round for me.” 

Waiting as you turn slowly, your body just getting in tune with being able to move on it's own again you face him. A face covered in sweat, hair stuck to his face he still looked enchanting. He takes you in, a look of yearning and hunger still coated his eyes as he looked you up and down.

“This’ll only hurt for a second sweetheart.” 

His fingers move the straps of your dress to your shoulders, moving them down to expose your chest. Bending down does he place small kisses on your chest, but before you could question it you felt his teeth sink into your chest. Sucking with intent to leave a mark, shallow pants meet fingers through his hair as you whine softly. Soon his lips let up, and a wet mark along your chest remains. 

“Didn't want ya to forget me too quickly. Just say this is a little reminder of me.” 

Joel smiles at you, a wink following his brazen claim on your body well after tonight somehow made you more attracted to him. There was something so matter of fact, demanding about him. He just took whatever he wanted and it had just happened to be you. The perfect combination of southern charm and degradation was enough to fuel you for a lifetime off this very night. 

He opens the door for you as you exit, following you out swiftly after does the walk to the general bar feels like your own walk of shame in a way. But were you really ashamed? They all knew what had just transpired, but part of you was proud of it. Joel certainly was. 

“You got any ways of gettin’ home sweetheart?” 

His voice inquired from behind you, making you turn to face him once more as more proper light shone on him giving him even greater features to be enamored by. 

“Oh well, my place is around a 20 minutes walk from here, so that's how I got here.” 

His brows furrowed at that notion, though it's better than any alternative of driving here with the intent of getting drunk. 

“Seems like I'll be takin’ you home then. You want anything before take ya?” 

“What? No- you don't need to take me home. It's such an inconvenience and-” 

“Listen sweetheart. It wouldn't be right of me leavin’ you hear all by yourself after all we just did. It's only proper.” 

You acquiesce. He does make a good point, and as he opens the door for you once more he leads you to his old truck, the seats smell of wood and coffee and you survey the insides to see a small drawn picture of what seemed to be him and a small girl upon his dash. A medium of crayon depicted two simple figures holding hands under a sun. 

“I didn't know you were such an artist Joel” 

You nudge him, teasing him about the photo briefly. 

“Now, you know I didn't do all that. Was my girl Sarah, made it when she was about 5 I think. Shes my whole world that little girl.” 

His smile lit up at the mention of his daughter, one that left you a bit dumbfounded because you didn't expect him to be a proud father given his introduction but you had no doubt he was a good one nonetheless. 

The drive home was slow but soothing, low country music played on his CD player as he drove down the road to your apartment. And as you signified to him which one was your place he pulls off to the side and drops out of the truck before you. Opening the door for you does he lead you out and to your door, with a kind farewell that despite all his degradation can never override his innate hospitality. Bidding you farewell as he leaves back into his truck, there's no part of you that feels as though you’ll ever see him again. But for a hookup, it's the nicest way you’ve ever been treated after. By a longshot. You won't be quick to forget him, with or without his hickey. 

…

School bells ring in your ears as you stand atop a small ladder that gets you to the top of the ceiling to tack on the final decoration for your parent-teacher night. It’d been over a week since you’d met Joel, and as the Friday before a long weekend creeps up on you the last thing you need to do is go through a line of parents and hope none of them have bad things to say about you. You fancied yourself a very good 7th grade teacher, with some of the children within your grade holding bright futures ahead of them. Specifically Sarah, not only was she a rising athlete but she was incredibly academically gifted. The anticipation to meet her parents grew purely out of curiosity, on what kind of scholars they were to raise such a well behaved child. 

Parents began to pour in before too long, the clock ticking from 4 to 6, conversation over conversation about the behavior of students, curriculum taught, and teaching philosophies wore you out by the time there was a little less than 30 minutes left of the window to greet parents. 

A clock shining at 6:16 made you feel as though your day was done, no real stragglers came in at the last 15 minutes, and as you finished up with the ones who came in the last 30, you began to relax at your desk for a moment. 

Until, of course, you see the thick curly hair of a certain sarah enter your classroom. You felt rejoiced, noting that if you had to deal with anyone, it’d gladly be her and her parents. Though as you watched with a smile on her face as she walked in it was soon no longer matched by you once you saw who her father was. 

Alone in the classroom did you stand across from Joel, whose daughter he held softly by her shoulder. your heart sank. 

What are the fucking odds? 

His usual confident demeanor was completely wiped by what seemed to be genuine shock at the sight of you. 

“I'm sorry we’re so late miss, dad always works super late so I can never come as early as I want. This is my dad, Joel!” 

Thats where I knew his fucking name from. 

Sarah breaks the silence with apology on his behalf, followed by an introduction as you slowly lower yourself within your seat once more and usher them to sit across from you. 

“Oh- oh, there's no worries. There's still time before we technically finish, so I'm more than glad to see you Sarah.” 

Your conversational tone is light, you keep eyes on Sarah while trying to talk to her about school and life, hearing about her new position on the soccer team is the only thing keeping you sane as the same musk you tasted down your throat is sitting right across you once more. 

Sarah's eyes darted over to the entrance to the classroom, spotting what seems to be one of her friends who also arrived quite late. 

“Oh-- dad. Dad, I'm going to go say hi to my friend. Can I go? Please?” 

“No sarah, you’ve gotta stay right here.” 

A diversion of eye contact with you that put all eyes on a whining sarah led you to chime in at the sight of her dismay, 

“Oh it's alright, there's a few things i’d like to speak to you about anyways.” 

She darts away without a second thought, taking your word more to heart than her own fathers. 

So there you two are sat-- eyes locked in on one another as you watch Joel's demeanor falter. He’s barely the man you met at the bar, all semblance of confidence gone to be replaced with a much more sheepish embarrassment at the face of his daughter being directly connected to his hookups. 

“So, Mr. Miller then is it?” 

You take this as a means to taunt him. 

“Funny seeing you here isn't it? Your daughter is exceptional, I'll give you that. But doesn't every day something like this happens does it?” 

He clears his throat, arms crossing as he lies back slightly upon the chair. 

“Now, I mean no disrespect here but you can’t be tauntin’ me like this darlin’. Taking everythin in me to not pin you over that desk just like I did before.” 

Your cheeks grow red and flushed. He wasn't sheepish, he's holding back. If it wasn't for his daughter being right down the hall he’d probably already have you wrapped around his cock again. 

Silence consumes you two once more as you feel your words choke in the back of your throat, you don't have a proper response to something so brazen but his eyes read yours and he makes it clear you needn't say anything at all. 

“Listen sweetheart, if I spend another minute in here with you you’ll probably wanna shut that door and hope no one comes a knockin. So I'll save you the trouble. How’s about you give me your number, and I'll make sure to find time to see you again.” 

You scramble for pen and paper to give him what he wants, you now sheepishly handing him your number as you watch him rise from the seat and straighten himself. 

“Was meanin’ to do this last time. I ain't felt anything as good as you for as long as i can remember. Usually I wouldn't do this, bein’ sarah's teacher and all, but hope you can understand that I can’t resist another night with you.” 

He grabs the paper from trembling hands, feeling his calloused fingers graze yours once more, shooting a shock of nerves to heat up your lower stomach from a mere touch. 

“I’ll see ya around darlin’.” 

A wink and a smile are the last thing you see of him before he takes himself to your door, disappearing as you hear a group of young girls as he walks into the hallway all clamoring something about Sarah as he takes her home. 

You’re left sitting in an empty classroom once more, a clock shining at 6:28 as your cue to leave is imminent. But as you look around you, all you can see is Joel. Every place you look there you are pinned against it with a skirt ridden up and cock shoved inside of you. Even in the empty space in the middle of the classroom you see your knees bare against linoleum as his hands grip your hair and guide it up and down him. You yearned for him, you needed him.

A text chime snapped you out of your trance. 

“5pm, tomorrow. I’ll pick you up.” 

And it seems like he needed you too. 

“And wear what you wore today, I want to take it off of you myself.” 

[auspicioustidings]

Kinktober Day 11

Moniker: Alex Risk Level: Low. Alex has never been detained and is visiting freely. Brief: Wax play Safeword: Refer to first brief. Alex is safe, he will take such good care of you. We will enjoy watching it, but if you would rather we didn’t just tell Alex and he will make sure you are out of sight of the cameras but still able to be heard by us - Farah & Gaz

You had only been to a spa once in your life and had hated it. It was awkward not knowing what you were doing when the masseuse left the room to “let you get ready”. How were you supposed to know what clothing came off or how you were to be laying when they came back or where the towel was supposed to sit?

That’s why you had been stiff walking in to find what looked, smelled and sounded like a spa treatment room. Yesterday was… it was bad? You honestly weren’t sure what to call it. So you appreciated that obviously the powers that be thought you needed a break but you couldn’t imagine this would be enjoyable.

It’s a damn good thing Alex found it very easy to prove you wrong.

He was naked, the shiny sheen of scented oil on his skin that smelled like Farah had. Not hard which was kind of a relief because while you wouldn’t object to sex, the bluntness of yesterday wasn’t something you were eager to immediately repeat.

Below the knee of one of his legs was a prosthetic. It was a good model. You knew that because most special forces did, most of you knew several people who had been stuck with low range, cheap ones that were uncomfortable to wear and served to remind them of what they had lost because they had outlived their usefulness as a soldier and so the military had no interest in looking after them. You were glad he had escaped that particular curse.

“Hi darlin’, will you take your robe off for me? You can lay it right there on that chair and then jump up on the bed.”

You weren’t wearing anything under the robe, but nakedness had stopped bothering you somewhere along the way so you shrugged it off. The sort of table sort of bed was comfortable enough when you scooched your ass onto it.

“Ok, here’s the deal. I really like unwinding a wound up girl, and you are wound up something awful.”

“Don’t like unwinding wound up boys?”

“Nah, them I like winding up more” he said with a wink.

Oh no. Oh he sort of reminded you of Gaz, charming enough to be hazardous to your good sense. You were not having a cock in your damn ass today. You just weren’t.

“Are we…” you started, trying not to be crude because, like an idiot, you wanted this roguishly handsome guy with his pretty accent to like you.

Not that you imagined you were coming off very demure when instead of just asking the question properly you gestured vaguely to his dick and then wound up staring at it slack jawed because it wasn’t only his arms and chest that were tattooed. Oh my God, that must have hurt surely? There was Arabic text running around the circumference.

“Farah Karim.”

“I- oh my god sorry, I wasn’t- wait what?”

“That’s what it says, Farah Karim. A woman named Iskra tattooed it and it hurt like a bitch because she was a bitch about it.”

You just stared at him, trying to formulate any response that wasn’t looking at the camera and freaking out because go Farah. Seriously, how did you become more like her? She was wearing the virginity of several women on her wrist and there was a man wearing her name on his cock? You had met international super spies and nobody came close to that level of fundamentally sensational.

“Ah ah ah, no can do darlin’. You’re supposed to be unwinding so stop going goo goo eyed and lay down on your front would you?”

You felt a burst of butterflies in your stomach at the embarrassment of ‘going goo goo eyed’ and were only too happy to bury your face into the bed to hide. There was a hole for your face which you had expected, but it was also oddly shaped. As if it had been created with your exact proportions in mind because there were sunken in parts that your body melted into instead of what you had experienced before which was having your chest and tummy crushed.

“Now I’m gonna start with an oil because the wax will be easier to get off that way. If you enjoy this we can do it again whenever you want, but we’re not gonna go too hard this session darlin’. As much as I’d like to get your chest and pussy flinchin’ from the heat, we’re gonna stick to your backside for today so you can get a feel for it. If you’re amenable to it, after I’d like to give you a full body massage. The happy ending ain’t optional, think you need to relax proper and I’ll need your body to sing to do that.”

“O-ok.”

It put you at ease that he just explained it all for you, although you hoped there weren’t any surprises as he rubbed oil into his hands to heat it and then started applying it to your shoulders.

“My hands will be the only thing of me touchin’ you today darlin’ so you don’t need to tense thinkin’ about if I might sneak around the brief. I’m naked ‘cause I thought it was only fair if I was asking it of you.”

His thumbs dug into your back muscles and you groaned. You knew your muscles were probably tight, but it was so woefully apparent when they seized against his ministrations.

“Sorry” you mumbled, feeling like you were doing it wrong since you weren’t just turning into goo.

“You’re fine, more than fine. Told you I enjoy unwinding girls, so I’m happy to work you until you’re a relaxed ball of melting butter.”

Sounded good to you, but given your previous experience you couldn’t imagine he’d succeed. And given that it was actually pretty painful and you kept flinching and tensing over it, you didn’t get any more confident.

“Sorry darlin’, you got a lot of tension needing worked out. Will get most of it after the wax, just wanted to get the worst of it first.”

“It’s ok. Don’t think massages really work on me anyway. Is the wax going to, I dunno, wax me? Like is it going to hurt taking it off?”

“So little faith in me. Trust me, it’ll work on you. And no, it’s not the same formula as wax for hair removal” he said before running a hand up the back of your thigh.

The knee-jerk reaction was to be embarrassed. You hadn’t shaved since the night before you came to the Kennel, too exhausted to even think about it, so you were all stubbly now.

“If it bothers you I can shave it once we’re done during aftercare since it isn’t long enough to wax. Does it bother you?”

Did it? You wanted to be the feminine ideal of soft and smooth even though you knew that was a weird societal thing rather than actually tied to femininity. And you did like rubbing your legs together like a cricket in bed after a fresh shave. But did it bother you?

“I’m not actually sure?”

And you weren’t. None of them had really cared that you were stubbly, hadn’t mentioned it at all. In fact pretty much everything you were insecure about didn’t seem to factor at all in how they played with you. In a way it was annoying because why had you spent so long thinking these things would be a problem when it came to having a sex life?

“Hm, have a think about it darlin’. Now take a breath.”

You absent-mindedly took the breath, too busy thinking about if it would be weird for him to shave you tonight to even worry why he was asking you to in the first place.

The first drip of wax seared into your skin in a way that made your whole body seize, frozen in a flinch. It felt insane, like it was sizzling through layers of skin and fat and muscle and settling into your bones. But when the second drip landed on your spine you found you liked it.

You liked how it caused your muscles to lose control and rapidly contract at the shock. How the heat spread out through your skin in a web making that one little droplet warm a much larger area.

“Good darlin’?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re taking to this like a dream. You ok with me moving to your ass? Think it’ll look unreal with wax dripping on it.”

“Go ahead” you said on a sigh, surprised at yourself considering you really didn’t think you’d let him near your ass today.

But you trusted him. He was Farah’s for a start. But he was also checking in, explaining everything, giving you the option to say no to one thing without it being a safe word stop. This was more how you imagined a regular intimate moment between two people would go rather than these odd sessions as an employee.

The fat of your ass cheeks took the wax differently, at least it felt like they did. It was sort of like the feeling of Keegan spanking you, but distilled into one tiny spot that flowed like lava before hardening.

Your pussy was happy about it, that was for sure. It wasn’t clenching on nothing as it had been doing throughout all this, instead it was just giving you a lazy stream of wetness, content to enjoy savouring the feeling. How the fuck did Alex do that? Make it so that your body was so in tune with what he was aiming for? So eager to let go of tension and just relax?

He leaned over to whisper in your ear.

“Farah and Gaz are going to be going insane seeing how damn pretty your body looks right now all relaxed and covered in wax. Would put money on him being on his knees eating her out right now.”

“You’re the worst” you whispered back playfully, knowing damn well he knew the thought of it was sure to have you gushing (and it did).

He laughed, masculine and strong in a way that made your stomach flutter.

“Now you’re going to relax. You were a delight taking the wax, well done darlin’”.

You felt like a little kid with how happy the praise made you.

He really massaged you after that. You joked around with him about how he was probably going to give you more bruises that the rest of them combined and he just kneaded harder after saying he took it as a challenge.

At some point everything changed. Your muscles finally loosened off and you felt like you were melting into bonelessness. He got you on your back and it felt like you were getting embalmed with how he massaged into the meat of your breasts with no sexual intent behind it.

Finally, after every inch of you was lathered in oil, loose and warm, he massaged between your legs with the same energy.

You hadn’t realised you could have a non-sexual orgasm, but that’s what it felt like. His touch wasn’t seeking anything for his own gratification, it was purely the last part of a massage designed to reset your body, mind and soul into stillness. You cumming your damn brains out wasn’t the culmination of teasing and fucking, it was just part of this odd, sensual experience.

“There we go, perfect. You’re perfect. That’s it, slow” he said as he helped you sit up and gave you a glass of water, watching you sip at it.

“Bath?”

“Nope, can’t move. Whole body is jelly. This is where I live now.”

“Aww that would be a shame, Farah’s set on making dinner for you and believe it or not Gaz bakes unbelievable cookies.”

You whined, because that sounded great, but you never wanted to move again. He just chuckled warm and fond before getting robes on both of you and scooping you up in a princess carry to take you to get fed and then get a nice long bath. Considering the absolute state Farah had put Gaz in, he was pretty sure he’d be needing to give him one too.

[sagstelliums]

How would they react if you confessed your feelings (pac)

Pile 1

I see that they would want to take things to the next level, they would be interested in deepening the connection and taking the connection more serious. They would speak to you more or try to get to know you more, I see that that they would be more honest or blunt with you. They would be more expressive about how they feel. Signs- cancer/pisces. Initials- M, R, D

Pile 2

I see that they would be shocked but in a good way, they would be happy and they would spend more time with you or they would try go on a lot of dates with you. I see that they would realize they don’t like you that way or the chemistry isn’t there for them, the connection would be over because they don’t think they can go back to the way things were beforehand. Signs- Leo/Aries. Initials- C, V, N, D

Pile 3

I see that they would want to take a little time for themselves and think over your feelings for them, I see that they would be a little uncomfortable with your feelings for them because they don’t see you in that way but they still want to be friends or they still want to hang out with you. They would be scared of the dynamic of the connection changing. Signs- Virgo/taurus. Initials- C, I, P, D, Y

Personal readings always available //TIP JAR

Divider by @plutism

[seijorhi]

Tendou and Ushijima are such scary yanderes! Tendou cause he's already kinda insane and Ushijima is like a brick wall when he puts his mind to something.  

i feel like ushiwaka's the type of guy that could pretty easily convince you to start a relationship with him. cuz let's face it he's stupidly attractive, a crazy talented volleyballer and an olympic medalist (to me) to boot, and he's not actually a dick, he's just a little intense. blunt. some might say slightly awkward.

but at the start of it all, you don't see the red flags. you like ushijima. he's surprisingly attentive for an athlete playing at his level, which you weren't really expecting but it makes you feel special. wanted.

and then you meet his friends. tendou, specifically.

the thing is, wakatoshi's kind of a possessive guy. not jealous, exactly. he's not glaring down every guy that dares to look at you that's just his face and throwing punches, he's not even that big on PDA, he just likes it when you're close, when he's got his hand wrapped in yours or resting on your thigh. he enjoys that physical touch, a tangible reminder that you're there, you're his.

he doesn't take it well when other people try it.

tendou, apparently, is an exception to that rule.

while you've been walking around with rose tinted glasses this whole time, ushiwaka's got full on blinders on – at least where his high school bestie's concerned. he almost growled the other night when eita went in for a hug hello, but he's sitting right next to you, seemingly unbothered by the redhead practically draping himself over you, the long fingers fiddling with the hem of your skirt.

you'd knocked his hand away – he keeps sliding it back.

not wanting to make a fuss, you'd kept your mouth shut, only bringing it up with wakatoshi later, when it was just the two of you. but he shrugs, like it's no big deal – no, like he doesn't understand what the issue is to begin with. why you're uncomfortable with tendou being friendly.

and so you drop it. maybe you are reading too much into it. tendou's an odd guy, maybe that's just how he is and you haven't known him long enough to get accustomed to it.

except it gets worse. it's uncomfortable and a little creepy. you're out for drinks one night at a bar, and when you come out of the bathroom, tendou's right there, almost caging you in. it's always a joke, or you think that's what he's aiming for, because he wears that same too wide, glittering grin and laughs when you get flustered and uncomfortable.

he shows up at your job to drive you home when wakatoshi's held up with training. lets himself into your place to 'hang out' while you wait for your boyfriend to get home. always staring. amused, apparently, by the six feet of distance you seem determined to keep between you and him.

the next time you go to one of wakatoshi's games, he's got tickets too, his seat right next to yours, and spends the match with his arm slung over the back of your seat, playing with your hair and asking whether you let your boyfriend cum inside you before the game started. y'know, for good luck.

it's too much. you've tried to talk to ushijima about it but you might as well be talking to a brick wall. in the end, you make a choice.

you like ushijima, you even think there might've been a future there, but if being with him means letting yourself be subjected to tendou's friendliness, then it's not worth it.

when you explain this to him, however, trying to break it gently, you see an odd stoniness cross over his features. the hand enveloping yours tightens for a beat, bordering on painful, before he exhales. 'you want to break up with me?'

swallowing, you nod. it's not what you want, really, but you're not going to keep putting yourself in this position. you're not going to be uncomfortable in your own relationship – and you're not going to have a third party involved at all.

'yeah.'

he breathes in, a muscle in his jaw ticking, and when he speaks, when he looks at you with dark, flinty eyes, there's nothing but iron determination, 'no.'

[cursedonyx]

Sebastian Sallow ABCs

Headcanons for our favourite freckled heathen 💚

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Holy SHIT this boi is affectionate. Constant hugs, cheek kisses, hand holding, even randomly picking you up off the floor to hug you from behind or throw you over his shoulder for shits and giggles. He’s got no problem with PDA’s and sometimes considers it a bit of a challenge to see how uncomfortable he can make others with how all over you he is. He’s a bit of a show-off and wants the entire world to know you’re his, and he’s yours.

In private, he’s just as affectionate, but considerably calmer. A moment not cuddling or kissing you is a moment wasted, and he’s particularly fond of nuzzling your neck, especially if it distracts you. He needs your attention like he needs oxygen, and he can get a little suffocating at times, but do be gentle with him if you need some space. He’s a sensitive thing, and craves your approval, even if he won’t admit it.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

The best way to describe a friendship with Sebastian is chaos. He’s enthusiastic, cheerful, playful, and daft as a brush. He isn’t afraid of embarrassing himself for comedic purposes, loses games and playful bets with grace, and is freely giving of his time and energy to those he loves. He’ll do anything for you, but he does expect some level of reciprocation, and may become a little irritated if he feels he’s not getting the same level of commitment back after some time, even if he won’t ask for it. He’s used to people taking advantage of his kindness, but not his best friends.

He takes the time to learn about you, watching you carefully and asking pointed, sometimes blunt questions, though he will respect you if you decline to discuss certain topics. He’ll find out soon enough anyway, he’s remarkably easy to talk to.

If he wants something specific from you, he will badger and pester and poke until you give in or lose your temper – trying to talk him out of it rarely works, as he’s extremely good at manipulating conversations to his benefit, precisely because of how well he knows you. Don’t misunderstand, Sebastian doesn’t mean to do this maliciously – he’s very strong-willed and firmly believes what he’s doing is right, or necessary. Losing your temper with him will bring him back to earth with a bump, and he will be extremely apologetic. He means it when he's sorry.

If you need him for anything, he’ll be there for you, regardless of whether it’s venting to him about something, asking his advice, going on an adventure, or just having a little cry. He wants to be there for you, and will be, no matter what. He’ll take the fall for you if you get into trouble, but he never outright asks to be repaid for that, trusting you to help him out when he needs it.

He’s mischievous, cheeky, and a terrible influence. He’s hilarious.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

All of the cuddles, all of the time, in any and every way imaginable. If he’s not flumped on top of you, he’s pulled you onto his chest so you can flump. His absolute favourite way to cuddle is his head on your stomach or chest, and you playing with his hair. It drives him wild, and if your relationship is at that stage, it won’t remain a cuddle for long. If you need to distract him, run your fingers through his hair, and he’ll be putty in your hands.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Loves cooking. Hates cleaning. Laundry day is the WORST. Can’t bake for shit but will float around the kitchen if you do until you let him lick the bowl, then he’ll leave you alone for ten minutes. He works best if there’s some kind of routine, and you remind him (regularly) when it’s his turn to do the dishes. He’ll grumble about it, but will do a good job. He prefers it if you do household chores together, especially if he can distract you from it, or turn it into some kind of game.

He’d love to settle down with the right person, but only after a year or two of adventuring and exploring the world with you.

He’s indifferent about children. Honestly, he’d really rather not, he wants you all to himself, all the time, and he’s traumatised by his parents’ deaths and how he was treated growing up. Knowing how dangerous the world can be (and how much trouble you two can find yourselves in), he doesn’t want to risk having children, only for you, or him, to die. He knows how that feels and doesn’t want any more children to suffer it. But, if it’s what you want, he’ll eventually agree, and will be a caring father, even if he does miss the time when it was just you two.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Being the fiery guy he is, there would be an argument. You’d have to do something pretty major for him to want to leave you, and he’d be devastated. Emotional. Shouting, and probably crying with rage and pain. He’d storm out, and he wouldn’t come back. He’d be heartbroken, but his pride wouldn’t let him return. If you want a chance at having him back, you’d need to go after him, but he’s stubborn. Even if it hurts him, if you hurt him enough for him to want to leave, his decision would be final.

F = Fiancé(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married? How would they propose?)

Seb tends to let his heart rule his head, and if he’s in love with you, he’s going to want that to be forever. He would want to marry you as soon as he was able to, regardless of whether or not he can afford to. Hell, he’d make you a ring of woven grass if that’s all he could manage, and to him, once it’s on your finger it would be more precious than diamond. He’d try and do the right thing, saving up and getting you a band of gold and gems, making sure he can support you, trying to plan the perfect proposal with Ominis’ help, but knowing him, “will you marry me?” will be at the forefront of his mind for months leading up to the actual event, and chances are he’ll blurt it out way ahead of time.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

He’s a firecracker, and sometimes forgets his own strength. He will try to be gentle and is extremely good at comforting you if you need it, but he can be pretty rough physically, without meaning to. If you’re arguing, he’ll say things in the heat of the moment that he doesn’t necessarily mean, and will regret it immediately. If he’s calm, he’s the gentlest person you’ve ever met.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

He’s pretty touch-starved, and craves hugs from those he loves. He’ll accept hugs from those he doesn’t know so well, but he’s less keen. The first time you hug him will stick out in his memory as much as your first kiss, especially if you initiate. He’ll take the chance to hug you whenever he can, and his hugs are surprisingly tender. He loves resting his head on yours, or on your shoulder, and letting his weight rest against you if you’re strong enough to hold him.

I = Intimacy (How do they like to be intimate? Any preferences/kinks?)

Sebastian can best be described as a submissive-leaning-switch. As much as he loves to please you, he can’t help but lose his mind when you take control, swiftly devolving into a begging, whimpering, desperate mess. This is a side he only shows to you. On occasion, especially if you’ve spent the day teasing him and winding him up, he will be ferocious and take what he wants the moment he’s able.

He fully understands the word ‘no,’ however, even if he’s moments away from sliding into you, he will stop, as difficult as he finds it.

He’s open to exploring with you, save for the more extreme kinks. He’s not adverse to being restrained, and he’s almost embarrassed to admit how much he loves your hand on his throat.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

He’s a freckled little green-eyed monster, this one. He won’t ever try and stop you talking to other people, and tries to see any flirting as playful banter. But, it doesn’t take much for him to see things as going too far, and he’ll always blame the other person you’re talking to, getting cross with them and encouraging you away, complaining about them as soon as they’re out of earshot. If someone oversteps their boundaries, he would hex them without a second’s thought, or, if he actually does take a moment to think, he’ll challenge them to a duel.

If you’ve been deliberately flirting to make him jealous, consider it mission accomplished. He will either whisk you away to make out with you or sleep with you to mark his territory, or he’ll sulk, and petulantly find someone else to flirt with until you get jealous. With his charm, it’s very easy for him to do.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

If you looked up the word ‘passionate’ in the dictionary, you’d see a picture of Sebastian. He loves bringing you close to him and holding you tight, tracing his lips over yours before moving over your cheek and down your neck. A quick peck will leave him breathless and wanting more, and he’ll take it if he’s got the chance. Your lips are his favourite thing to kiss, and if you’re intimate, he’ll lose his mind if you kiss his hips.

L = Love (When do they say ‘I love you?’ How are they as a romantic partner?)

When Sebastian falls, he falls hard. You take up every spare inch of his mind, often pushing aside other matters. He always wants to know how you are, where you are, who you’re with, and wants to be with you every moment of the day. He’ll be carefree and playful, doing everything he can to make you smile. If he makes you laugh hard enough that no sounds come out, he considers it an achievement and will strut around like a proud pigeon for the rest of the day.

Passion is Sebastian’s middle name, and this extends to him as a romantic partner. He loves like a wildfire, bright and fierce, all consuming. It can be exhausting, but he does appreciate the softer moments with you, and adores laying his head in your lap, or on your chest so you can play with his hair. If he’s not said it before, he’s nervous about telling you he loves you, just in case he’s made a mistake, and he’s got it wrong, and you don’t feel the same way. But he'll say it regardless, most likely in the heat of the moment, when you’ve fought off a band of goblins, or when he climaxes with you. He makes sure to tell you at least once a day, to make sure you know, and hearing you say it to him makes him grin and giggle like a kid.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

This one is NOT a morning person. He hates waking up before eleven, and even then, it’s a struggle to get out of bed, especially if you’re with him. He wants to be snuggled up to you, halfway between sleeping and waking, forever. His favourite part of the day is when you’re sleepily nuzzling and cuddling.

If he’s forced to get up, he’s happy to just fall into his clothes and go about his day, preferring to shower and such before bed. He occasionally skips breakfast in favour of an extra half an hour in bed.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Sebastian is often up until the wee hours, reading and researching his latest passion. He appreciates the quiet and the still the night brings, and tends to be more active from 5pm onwards. If you’re a night owl too, he’ll relish being able to lean against you as he reads, and he adores it when you drift off in his arms, to the point he’ll toss his book aside and just hold you. If you’re more of a morning person, he’ll make an effort to keep to your routine, but if he's in bed before eleven he’ll be awake for hours, tossing and turning and unable to settle, unless you wear him out.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

He’s pretty open about most things, but when it comes to his childhood, especially with Solomon, he doesn’t talk about it much. If he does, he tends to speak of it as though he’s struggling with a difficult colleague, distancing himself from the relationship without realising it.

If you’re romantically linked, he will eventually open up to you about what he suffered. It’ll take a moment or two for him to get going, lots of false starts and uncertain words, but then it’ll all come tumbling out in a rush. He’ll speak for hours without realising it about all he went through, jumping ahead in the timeline, or back, depending on how the memories hit him. He may get jumbled, telling the story of one event, then switching to another because he's just remembered it, then falling back to the original story. Such is the way with trauma.

Any advice you give him in overcoming what he endured will be met with acceptance, and a willingness to try. He may become frustrated if it doesn’t work immediately, but he’s not one to give up, and he will see results eventually, finding it easier to accept what happened to him wasn’t his fault.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Hotheaded AF. Easily annoyed, easily angered, but just as quick to cool down. Will occasionally say things he regrets in the heat of the moment if he’s rowing with someone he loves, and against an enemy, he can be very cool-headed, but his anger will still take over and he can be quite violent. He gets frustrated easily, especially if he’s trying to do something important, and the results just aren’t showing, but he won’t give up. If anything, the frustration just makes him more determined until his goal consumes him. Best to head him off early or distract him.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Sebastian has a very good memory for detail, considering the amount of time he spends researching. He’ll often surprise you by bringing up some tiny thing you told him years ago, something you may have even forgotten yourself. He can be distractible and distant if he’s caught up in something, but you’re important enough to him for him to set whatever he’s involved with aside, and he’ll remember what you need him to.

That said, if he needs to remember something he really, really doesn’t want to do (like going to visit your horrible great aunt felicia or going to the dentist) he’ll quite conveniently ‘forget’ and plan something else.

R = Remember (What is their favourite moment in your relationship?)

He couldn’t pick if you asked him. Everything about you is precious to him. But, if push came to shove, he’d remember all the times you stood by him, stuck your neck out for him and supported him when no one else did. The moment he realised he was in love with you will stand out in his mind until his last day.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Sebastian is wildly protective of you, and will often try to get in front of you if you’re battling poachers or other enemies, even if you’re a more powerful fighter. His protectiveness can border on possessiveness, and he’ll get angry if you’re hurt, throwing out ideas of revenge that won’t really go anywhere. He’d wrap you up in cotton wool if he could, but at the same time, he adores the danger the pair of you get into, especially as it’s quite the aphrodisiac for him once you’re both victorious and safe.

If you get protective of him, it’s a little confusing for him at first, but he quickly adapts to loving how much you care. He’s rarely had that before, and it means the world to him that you’d stand up for him.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Sebastian puts a surprising amount of effort into his dates and gifts, trying to make each experience unique and special. That said, once he finds a formula that works, he tends to stick with it, varying it up a little here and there. When it comes to you, no effort is too much, but he never goes overboard, understanding that too much can be off-putting.

He’ll always see something through to the end, regardless of the task, unless it’s something he truly wants to avoid doing, and then you’ll have a very difficult job in finding him until he thinks the ‘danger’ has passed.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Personal space? What’s that? Sebastian’s visceral need to be with you at all times can be suffocating, and you get the feeling he’d follow you to the loo if you let him. He understands the need for personal space, and alone time, and he’ll respect it if you put your foot down, but he needs reassurance that you’re still his, he’s still yours, and you’re not asking to be apart from him because you’re growing tired of him.

He’s very nosy, and if he thinks you’re hiding something, he’ll pester and pry for an answer, especially if he’s worried about you. It all comes from a place of love, but his insecurities, growing up as a twin and his love of knowledge makes him want to know everything.

Jealousy: Sebastian’s jealousy can be overbearing at times, and he doesn’t even know he’s doing it. A gentle, but firm conversation is needed to make sure he learns to respect your boundaries. Credit to him, once he knows what your boundaries are, he will respect them.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He’s cute and he knows it. Sebastian’ll make an effort with his appearance, of course, but only to the point to make sure his hair is brushed, his teeth are clean and his shirt’s not inside out. He’s got a kind of casual grace, and with his frame, everything seems to suit him. He does care what you think of him, though, and if you tell him something looks good on him, you can bet your bottom dollar he’ll be wearing whatever it is until it’s worn to threads. Compliments on his appearance mean a lot more coming from you.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

His world would end without you. If he lost you, for whatever reason, he would spend the rest of his life trying to find a way to bring you back, even if you die. And if anyone could succeed in this regard, it would be Sebastian.

X = Xtra (Random headcanons for them)

He won’t admit it, but he’d do anything for a bar of Honeydukes’ Best Chocolate. Think Scooby Doo and Scooby Snacks – it’s that level of ‘I want that in my tummy.’

Despite everything he’s been through, he’s resolutely cheerful, to the point it’s almost unhealthy. If he trusts you enough to cry in front of you, that’s a sign you’ve found a friend or lover for life – he doesn’t even cry in front of Ominis.

His bond with Anne mimics the usual twintuition – they have a way of knowing what the other is thinking, feeling or doing, even if they’re apart, which is partly why he was so desperate to cure her, he could literally feel the pain she was experiencing; knowing it was so much worse for her than the small twinges he'd occasionally get made him almost mad with fear for her.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

You’d need Anne’s approval – if Sebastian’s twin doesn’t like you, that’s going to be a problem. He trusts her opinion. If you don’t like her, he’ll lose interest faster than if you’d shat directly on the dining room table.

Sebastian’s always up for a joke and banter, but he doesn’t like cruel humour that’s designed to upset someone else to make others laugh. Bullies make him angry, and he doesn’t want anything to do with a bully.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Sebastian’s sleep is troubled, especially after Solomon, and considering that it's pretty much established that he didn't have his own bed in the cottage (though this has enabled him to fall asleep literally anywhere). His childhood is full of trauma, losing his parents, the abuse he suffered at Solomon’s hands, Anne’s curse… as he tends to push things down and try and be cheerful, this comes out in nightmares. He occasionally wakes up screaming, even though he tries to pretend it doesn’t happen. He sleeps better when you’re holding him, and if he manages to process his trauma, he’ll sleep through the night. He falls asleep very easily, but he’s a light sleeper and will wake up regularly.

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

(Sorry if this is too weird for you. You can just ignore it if you like.)

So...what's it like to drink the Ghoul's piss? I'm wondering about taste, smell, temperature, and side-effects.

*blush*

(*Homelander voice* Go ahead...let's light this candle, huh??)

Friend, when I said this blog is kink-friendly and I don't judge, I meant that this blog is kink-friendly and I don't judge. I've yet to get a single ask/question/request that's made me uncomfortable, or even made me look at it funny, and this certainly isn't the point where I'm gonna start. With that said...

The taste? Oh babe, lemme tell you, it's not good. Don't get me wrong, I don't think anyone in the Fallout universe would have inoffensive-tasting piss (chronic dehydration is too widespread and frankly these people have fucked-up diets, plus constant radiation exposure for most of them). But I fully believe that ghoul metabolic processes are streamlined to utilize any beneficial resources with maximum efficiency (chiefly, calories and water; this would fall in line with characters like The Ghoul being put into situations where they survive for years and years with no food or water). To be blunt, I don't think his kidneys are producing a ton of urine, save for the bare minimum of biological waste that comes from them simply operating.

Long story short, I think the man maybe pisses once every few days if he's had enough water, and it would be dark and STRONG, both in smell and taste.

I also have a headcanon that ghouls run noticeably hotter than regular humans due to the sheer amount of energy that gamma radiation produces. The radiation alone may not produce much measurable physical heat, but I think a human body plied with it down to the cell level would basically work as a space heater. I don't think most ghouls worry about thermoregulation in the heat.

You know what that means, though? Incredibly hot piss. Like, steaming hot even when it's not cold outside. Hot enough to make you gasp when it hits your skin, startling without actually burning you.

In terms of side-effects from contact or ingesting, I'm envisioning the same sort of deal as with ghoul cum (which I elaborated on in an almost-equally unhinged post here); it's incredibly radioactive and will make you very ill if you fuck around too much. Getting a little on you probably wouldn't be any worse than trudging through your average puddle of nuclear waste, but if you're intending to have it inside you in any way, especially swallowing it, you need to be careful. Prep with Rad-X (which reduces the amount of radiation that "sticks" to you, up to a certain point), finish up with Radaway (which removes already-accumulated radiation) if you're determined to be a piss queen or a ghoul cum dumpster. No judgement! I just want to make sure you know you're in for some pretty severe nausea, open sores/burns (especially in your mouth), bleeding from the nose, and bruising if you're not careful. We love nasty fun around here, but we also love safety.

Also, you didn't ask about this, but based on what you DID ask, I'll assume you'd also be interested in knowing what his reaction to you bringing up such things would be.

And honestly? I think you'd get essentially the same reaction from Prewar!Coop and The Ghoul.

I think he'd be hesitant. Not because he finds it too gross or off-putting or anything, but he'd worry that it'll be disrespectful to you in a way that he, as a man, shouldn't engage in (moreso Prewar!Coop), and because he's worried it could be harmful to you (moreso The Ghoul). Don't get me wrong; I think he'd certainly be intrigued, and I think you being both bold and vulnerable enough to ask for such a thing would make his head spin in the best possible way. What a display of trust! As I've said before, I think this man had (and has) lots of weird kinks himself, he just hasn't had the opportunities to explore them that he needs. Many of those kinks he doesn't even realize he has.

But even though you can see that intrigue in his pretty eyes, see the forming bulge in his pants, you may have to be persistent if you really wanna try it out. He's very firm about not doing anything that'll really harm you, and he isn't initially convinced this won't.

If I'm quite honest? Prewar!Cooper would be even more turned on by it than The Ghoul once he came around to the idea. I think it would arouse him so much to see his favorite pretty little plaything so enamored with him that they'll do anything to please him, for him to make them feel good, including debase themselves completely. I think that you being so into him that you want him to piss on you, in you, would both stroke his ego and feed his most primal, possessive urges.

Best bet to get him started? Hop in the shower with him, get him all worked up as per usual, and then drop to your knees and start blowing him. Once you get him worked up enough that he could very nearly cum, pull back and keep stroking him slowly while you beg for it. Provided you've timed things right, there's no way he'd be able to say no...just give him a second. It's difficult to piss with a massive, throbbing erection. Maybe if you played with the head (with your tongue) while he tried, that would help. Who says you have to pull away when he finally starts if you don't want to?

Hope you're ready for an engagement ring after that.

The Ghoul mostly finds appeal in how filthy it is, in seeing this clean, gorgeous young thing having to dirty themselves to survive. Eventually, fully embracing the filth because they're part of the Wasteland now, coming to enjoy filth to some degree. I think that aspect of it would really get him going. Remember that scene where he watches Lucy drink the contaminated water that ultimately makes her sick? I saw a post on here when I first started the blog (I can't find it now!) about him offering Lucy an alternative to that when she was begging for some of his water...it really awakened something in me. Enough said.

I think he'd enjoy it as much as you, when it came down to it, but I think he would also make you beg for it, loudly and fervently, every single time you want it. From the very first time, it's gonna rile him up like no other that his pristine little companion is begging him to dirty them in such a disgusting way. I don't think he'd be too keen on letting you swallow it, honestly, much like I don't think he'd be too keen on letting you swallow his cum because of the radiation. But I think if you ask pretty enough, nasty enough, he'd be more than happy to piss on you or in your other holes. Only if he knows you're set up with plenty of Radaway, though.

People don't really get "engaged", or even married anymore, per se, but if you think you're getting away from this man after you let him do that to you, you're sorely mistaken.

[ssswadaa]

An Awkward Date In Konoha

A Shino Aburame X Gender Neutral Reader Fanfic

Words: 2,457

A/N: This took so long, happy I got it done!

Descrition: Today's supposed to be your first date with Shino, but something comes up...

Under a cool morning sunrise in Konoha, you slowly fold the note into a small square, and devolve into a coughing fit. You had prayed that this sickness would go away through the night, but it had just gotten worse with time. You wished you felt the way you did when Shino Abarame asked you out the day before, all giddy and excited, and able to breathe through both of your nostrils. But now, even getting out of bed and running this small errand hurts everything in your body, there’s no way you could show up, even if it was your first date. Now the pretty, new green dress that you and Hinata Hyuuga picked out for this special occasion (in secret of course) would probably grow stale in your closet for who knows how long until Shino forgave you.

Sighing and holding back tears, you slump your way out of your apartment, and down the hall. Two doors down was the infamous Naruto Uzumaki, a moderate acquaintance of Shino’s. You slid the note under his door and knocked, before retreating to the bacteria-filled uncomfort of your apartment. You grab a glass of water, and head back to bed, wishing to be unconscious and thus free from your thoughts. Crashing onto your bed sends sharp pains throughout your entire body, as if somebody had run into you. Luckily, you fall asleep quickly.

(...)

Under the warm sun of the afternoon, Shino dodged the hands quickly, narrowly avoiding them before getting lightly tapped in the chest. Luckily, Hinata wasn’t using her Gentle Fist jutsu, or he’d be left unconscious at best, and at worst… Well, he didn’t want to picture ruining the rest of his day, or even the rest of the month.

“Good aim, Hinata. You’re getting quicker.” He remarked.

Hinata smiled warmly. “Thank you, Shino!” She posed herself rigidly again, signaling a call to get back to training, when…

“HEEEYYYYY!!!!! SHHIIINNNOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” called an abrasive voice. Hinata and Shino turned to see Naruto jumping between trees, and eventually down to their level. “Shino, Shino! Y/n left me this note, it says they can’t meet you tonight because they’re super sick. They wanted me to pass on the message.” He held up a folded note as proof of concept.

Shino froze, although this went unnoticed by Naruto and Hinata. How could this be? He had prepared so much for today, how could this happen? His bugs stirred beneath his pale skin.

“Give me the note, Naruto.” Shino demanded.

“Well, okay then.” Naruto said, slightly puzzled. He handed the note over to Shino, who snatched it from his hand. Shino carefully unfolded the note and read to himself,

Naruto,

Please tell Shino that I cannot meet him tonight, I have caught an awful sickness. You may be busy, but please tell him as soon as possible, I don’t want to keep him waiting. And tell him I’m terribly sorry for the hassle.

Y/n

Shino’s hive buzzed with mixed emotions. He knew now that you were being genuine, the handwriting was uncharacteristically large and filled with loops and holes. And the note was blunt and quick, when normally you love to talk on and on about little things, much like he does his bugs. How awful, such a sweet and caring shinobi did not deserve to be infected this badly. He had to do something. He still wanted to make you happy, to see you giggle like you always did. Shino would treat you right. It would be difficult, nerve-wracking, and a little embarrassing, but he had to do this for you.

“Naruto, where does Y/n live?” Shino asked, refolding the note and putting it into his jacket pocket.

“Uh, like two doors down from me, so like 307 in my complex-” Naruto started.

“Thank you.” Shino nodded, and turned to Hinata. “Hinata, I’m sorry, but I must go. Have a nice day.” With that, Shino was gone, rushing through the trees to get back to the village as soon as possible.

“What’s his deal?” Naruto said, as puzzled as always.

“He…probably just wants to see them and re-make plans.” Hinata smiled innocently. She knew what stirred between Shino and you, but kept quiet about her esoteric knowledge.

(...)

Shino shouldered his bag with little effort up to the third floor, and walked down the hall to find your room. In his hands, he held a large cooking pot, fit for a good stew. He stopped before your apartment, and to his dismay, he heard soft sobbing from the other side. The bugs were restless now, he could hardly keep them all together. Are they crying for me? He thought guiltily. Although he would normally knock when visiting another home, this time he just opened the door, desperate to help with any of your issues. You didn’t notice anybody enter, you kept crying as Shino lightly put down the pot, his shoes and his bag before stopping at the doorway to your bedroom. Your floor was home to empty tissue boxes, as you laid on your stomach, crying into your soggy pillow. A symptom of being madly in love, you wished for him always, to be with him out to dinner, or just in the forest cuddling and looking at the wildlife. All those wishes were now delayed for who knows how long, just because your feeble body fell ill at the wrong time. Will Shino ever forgive me? You worried. He is the type to hold lots of grudges. Shino stood in the doorway for a moment, working up the courage to call out to you. He, too, desperately hoped to see you today, and now more than ever he wanted to hold you tightly and whisper sweet nothings to you, you humming into his chest as you fell asleep together in the woods.

That could still happen, Shino had to remind himself. But right now, it’s about making Y/n happy here. Shino breathed deep, tried to compose himself and his bugs, and muttered… “Y/n?”

You jolted your head up instantly, as if your pillow had become magma. You turned around slowly to see the man you had just failed, standing in your doorway. “Shi…Shino…” you stutter, before breaking into painful wails. You felt so disappointed in yourself.

“Y/n…” Shino stammered nervously, rushing to the side of the bed.”What is wrong? Is everything okay?”

“Oh, Shino!” You sob. “I’m so sorry! I know…I know today was supposed to be important and…and I’m so sorry that I’m sick… and…” You break into a small coughing fit.

“Y/n, the day isn’t what’s so important to me.” The hive buzzed almost as loudly as your wails. I have to do this now, for them.

“You are what’s important to me, Y/n. I love you.”

“...Really?” You ask, sniveling and holding your breath, waiting for someone like Naruto or Kiba to undo a transformation jutsu and laugh at you.

“Yes, I want to care for you.” Shino held back, not wanting to express everything just yet. He didn’t want to move too fast for you, or even himself. This is about you right now. “Come into the kitchen, I have things for you. When you are ready, please join me.”

Shino lowered his head, turned around, and went to the kitchen, leaving you alone to process what happened. He loves me? He really loves me? And how can I say it back after he did it so well? You coughed aggressively, hoping to just cough away all your tears. You got up and went to the bathroom to brush your hair and look at least okay to Shino.

Meanwhile, Shino put the pot to boil on the stove, and started chopping some vegetables to distract himself, to no avail. His kikaichū crawled up to his fingertips and surrounded the cutting board as he thought about you, some hovering over the stew, impressed with what their master began to create. Did I do it right? He thought, as more bugs escaped from his protection. That must’ve been so embarrassing. I should’ve waited, I really should’ve waited. But…I just want to make them happy… He slid the vegetables from the knife into the pot, and began to season the stew he prepared.

With a small cough, to politely alert your presence, you step cautiously into your kitchen. Shino turned around, his face lowering once again, now a cute shade of pink, and gathered all his bugs that were on the counter. Shino had made the table, put his mission bag neatly on your couch, and seemingly cleaned the counters, all while you tried your hardest to look even presentable.

“Wow…Shino…” You’re completely stunned. “Everything looks great! This is unbelievable…”

“Please believe it.” Shino blurted as he approached his bag, although he couldn’t quite believe it himself. “I have gotten some things for you while you’re sick, I hope you appreciate them.”

Shino motioned for you to come closer, and unpacked his bag. Your jaw drops as he lays out the items he got: multiple boxes of tissues, many different flavors of tea bags, a thermometer, and a massive blanket, much bigger than your actual bed or couch. Shino’s bag deflated as he turned to you, anxiously waiting for a response. You approached your couch and ran your hand across everything Shino had gotten for you. Oh my…he had gotten all this because I said I was sick? And it’s…real? He really loves me? You thought, as your hand made its way to the blanket. It was incredulously soft, you felt tired even touching it.

“Shino…” You begin. “Shino, this is all so wonderful, it’s hard to believe. Thank you…thank you one thousand times over. It’s all so lovely, and coming from the man I love too…thank you, Shino.” You approach Shino and give him a weak hug, partly to not disturb his standoffish nature, partly because your body couldn’t handle anything stronger. Surprisingly, Shino did not hesitate in hugging back, both of your faces flushing.

“Thank you, Y/n.”

Your body melted into his, attracted to its natural heat. Shino pressed his cheek against the top of your head, kikaichūs humming beneath his skin, before quickly tensing. He broke away from the comfort of your body and noticed some bugs swirling above you. He walked back to the pot and seasoned it more, stirring it lightly, and then taking it off the stove.

“The stew is ready. You can sit down.”

“Oh, thank you Shino.”

You sit down at your own dining table as Shino takes your bowl and fills it, before carefully setting it down before you. The stew is coloured a comforting orange, filled with small green bits of leaves and other vegetables. You take a spoonful as Shino joins you with his own bowl.

“Wow, Shino…this is amazing! So warm, so smooth, do I taste winter melon? You’re such a good cook!” You compliment as the stew flows through you gracefully. It was cooked to perfection, with zings of winter melon that wonderfully coated your mouth.

“Thank you.” Shino said softly, looking down at what he created, a microscopic smile contouring onto his lips.

As you both ate, you continued with light small talk about Shino’s entomology work, but you still felt like you could’ve coughed up an organ or two. As much as Shino’s presence was comforting, he couldn’t quite cure your illness. As coughs shivered down your entire body, making you eat more stew to balance the temperatures, you noticed Shino always grimaced and looked away whenever you did so. You decided not to say anything, but you couldn’t help but wonder if you being in pain also pained him too.

When you both were finished your meals, Shino took the bowls over to the sink and began to wash them.

“Shino, you don’t have to do that…” You start.

“I want to, Y/n. Please, let me.” Shino continued to wash the bowls.

“Okay…but next date I get to treat you, and there’s no escaping that; okay?”

“You considered this…a date?” Shino said cautiously, lightly blushing.

“I liked to think of it as one…is that okay with you?” You ask, his shyness passing onto you.

“If you believe it to be a date, that is okay with me. We were supposed to have a date today anyways.”

“Do you wanna have another?” You say without thinking.

“Yes, please. We can have a picnic.” Shino responds, also without thinking.

Shino drastically raised his eyebrows, and you began to giggle. No way we both just blurted that! That’s so cute! You think as your giggles transform into coughs, and reform into giggles again, all while making you colder and colder. Knowing Shino’s uncomfort, you try to hide it as you respond;

“Oh, that’s a lovely idea! I’ll wear something really nice and formal!”

“Yeah…thank you.” Shino kept his head down and washed the already clean bowls. Did I really just say that? I guess they’re on my mind too much. Shino thought as he ran through the scenario in his head multiple times over, before realizing the bowls were well beyond clean. He dried them off and put them back, all while hiding his increasingly red face.

“I should get going now.” Shino announced, grabbing his bag and slipping on his shoes. “You need to get some rest, you’re cold.”

Of course he noticed, dammit. You grumble mentally. “Okay then, when do you want this date?”

“Well…once you’re better, and whenever you’re free, well, when would you want that?” Shino started for the door.

“Shino, you give me a date. I want to treat you too, remember?” You remind the timid boy.

“...I would prefer next week exactly.” Surprisingly, Shino smiled brightly, seemingly accepting that being treated was unavoidable.

“Alright, I’ll mark it down. All good?”

“Yes, thank you very much, Y/n.” Shino opened the door. “Please get some rest, you need some.”

“I will, Shino, don’t worry. Goodbye.”

“Goodbye, Y/n.” Shino turned away quickly and closed the door behind him.

(...)

It was a perfect end to the day. The tea was just warm enough, with a perfectly mild melon zest to it. Taking a few pills along with it, you melted into your new blanket on the couch. It was gigantic, much bigger than what your actual couch, but it was just fine anyways. While carefully holding the teacup so as to not burn your fingertips, you were able to feel comfortable and refreshed at the same time, all while looking at a warm Konoha sunset out your apartment window. While enjoying everything that Shino brang to you, you slowly, yet calmly fall asleep thinking of him.

Thanks so much for reading! <3 Feedback is always appreciated, positive and negative!

[sirhamburrger]

episode two: blunt - shinsuke kita

kai's halloween '24 miniseries - a halloween to remember!!

CONTENT WARNINGS: light angst with happy ending, fluff, kita is insecure about his educational background and his line of work, yumie kita has passed on :(

EPISODE RUNTIME: 752 words || previous (episode one) || next (episode three)

moodboard

shinsuke kita has always been a blunt person. 

to every neighbour’s child he tutored, when pointing out their mistakes. to his teammates back in high school, when he needed them to buck up. to his farm employees, when the work isn’t getting done. speaking his mind is natural to him and has always been a good thing.

he knows your friends think lowly of him, though. long-distance is already hard enough, but when you’re meeting up with your friends once a week for brunch to hear them badmouth him, how is shinsuke supposed not to feel insecure about the relationship? you seem to have it all - high-paying job, good work-life balance, cozy little apartment in tokyo. he's just a country bumpkin with little more than a high school education and a conviction to grow rice. he's far too rough around the edges for you, they say. far too crude. too blunt.

so what do you even need him for?

it's definitely a surprise to him when you come all the way down to his rice farm in rural hyogo, carting five large pumpkins down the coarse dirt path in a rusty borrowed wheelbarrow. your clothes are crisp and your hair is perfect, a stark contrast to his wind-swept mop of black-tipped gray and the weathered flannel that hangs on his frame. he walks you back to the house, kneels by you as you pay your respects at his grandmother's altar. for the most part, he's happy you've come to visit. overjoyed, even. but the lingering doubt in the back of his mind makes him less vocal with you than usual. 

now, he sits in front of the house and carves pumpkins with you.

“shin?”

“hmm?”

you scoot over in the dirt to lean on him. this inevitably soils your clothes some, and he feels a pang of guilt in his chest. “i missed you, you know?” 

as you speak, you hold the pumpkin up to your eye level.  the mouth is crooked and the eyes are different sizes. “i know you can't visit often, but…” your voice trails off, and you seem unsure of what you want to say.

“sorry,” he says simply, hoping you know he means it. you nod mutely, and the two of you resume carving.

shinsuke focuses on the blade in his hand as he carves another line into the hard orange surface. he's had this knife for a long time; it was from his grandfather, and his grandmother passed it on to him when he turned eighteen. it's nice, but the blade is nowhere near as sharp as it used to be. even so, he manages to carve out decently regular shapes, even as you struggle to do the same with a sharper blade.

why do you still put up with him?

he must have said this out loud, because you’re setting your pumpkin down and staring at him like he's just grown a second head.

“what makes you think that?” you ask quietly.

he sets the old knife down.

“i'm jus’ not deserving of ya,” he finds himself admitting, his words catching in his throat uncomfortably as he speaks. “i can't keep up with yer busy city life. i can't even visit ya because i'm always busy. i can't provide for ya the way other guys can. you should be in a nice cozy apartment right now, not in the middle of nowhere spendin’ yer precious time off with some… useless country bumpkin.”

“shin… do you really think i'd be here right now if i didn’t want to?” you take his hands gently in yours, and he tries to meet your eyes as best as he can. “is this about what my friends have been saying?”

for once, shinsuke doesn’t feel like being quite as blunt as usual. “...maybe?”

“you know i don’t care about that!”

“ah.” he looks at the pumpkins on the ground, and they smile back at him. when he looks back at you, you’re smiling too.

“shin, you’ve always been more than good enough for me. nothing anyone says will change that. besides, i like you honest.” you wink at him, and he thinks he’s just fallen in love with you all over again, as you pick up your sad-looking pumpkin and laugh at how it looks.

shinsuke kita has always been a blunt person. but he’s blunt in the way a weathered old blade is, strong and unyielding, and he takes comfort in the fact that you love him for it.

DIRECTOR'S NOTE:

day two done (why am i on a roll!!)

@/nectardaddy's '88 ford series inspired! i'm a sucker for kita honestly

i am in just the right mood to write light angst iykyk

TAGLIST: open, send an ask to be added!

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