#but its a feeling like i would rather be alone than with someone who doesn't treat me the way i want to be treated
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not "i can do better" or even "i deserve better" per se, because i can't really believe that, but an inexplicable third reason i won't settle for a relationship where my level of care, effort, and sacrifice isn't reciprocated <3
#can't really explain why#it's a feeling like i want to say i deserve better but i always feel fundamentally unworthy of love so that's not it#and it's definitely not confidence that i can actually find someone willing to treat me better bc i often think i'll end up alone#but its a feeling like i would rather be alone than with someone who doesn't treat me the way i want to be treated#and i'm not saying this guy was cruel or bad in any way he just chose himself over me and didn't prioritize me#to the point that he broke up with me to make more time for his hobbies#and i don't need to be someone's absolute number 1 priority especially early in a relationship#but i feel like the relationship should be somewhere close to the top of the list#at least between career and skiing#not like i wanted or ever asked him to stop skiing#but he was aware that he was choosing to spend his time off doing that rather than seeing me#and im not even upset about that#honestly it was the entire days he spent in bed watching tv including the last day of break before we both went back to work#where he was too exhausted or lazy to want to see me even when i offered to come over#maybe it's not that i personally deserve better than that but i feel like everyone deserves better than that#anyway no point really but i cant quite put into words why i'm so okay with this breakup but this has something to do with it#i won't settle for not being a priority even if that means i end up alone#which is a nice feeling bc in the midst of it i was so patient and willing to put up with it#like oh he just needs time and if i out up with it and i'm not clingy then he'll love me and i'll become a priority#but even early in a relationship getting to know someone takes a willingness to prioritize doing that and make time for them#like i didn't need to see him every day but we had two entire weeks off from work and i saw him 4 times#and only 3 of those were actual dates#and i'm not mad at him i just accept that he's not really capable of having a relationship with anyone until he matures a lot#he didn't set out to hurt me or anything he's just immature and a bit selfish but i'm sure he doesn't even know that#but i'm glad it happened bc now i know what my standards are tbh#this has been a shitpost
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so! you mentioned in the 'p0rn preferences' post that Gaz is not the one who jerks off the most in the 141, and I humbly ask you, who would that be?
I don't mean this as a request, just a little discussion, cause I feel like Soap would just be going at it at any chance possible, like a bunny. he probably doesn't care much if someone hears it, but that's just me thinking too much into it.
Who Jerks off the Most in the 141 + König
Warnings: 18+, Heavy Mentions of Masturbation, Male Masturbation, Implied Reader in Individual Headcanons, Accidental and Implied Voyeurism, Edging, Brief Mention of Injury, Men Who Moan <3, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except 'You'.
A/N: As per Anon's question (which I just had to turn into a post of its own) I present to you the list of the 141 members (and König) who jerk off from the most to least <3
Soap
I have to agree with you here, Anon - Johnny is most definitely the king of self love when it comes to the 141.
He doesn't much care where he is or who he's with; when he has to satisfy his needs, he'll do so.
Though, he'll spare whoever's with him the sight of watching him throwing his head back, trying to stifle his moans behind gritted teeth whilst the wet sound of his hand slipping up and down the length of his shaft fill the room.
Unless they want to.
For one reason or another, he's nigh-insatiable when it comes to his libido, and the fact that his stamina affords him the luxury of beating himself off until his cum is practically translucent doesn't help.
The slightest thing can set him off.
Someone brushing past him ? Hard.
Someone stroking his ego a little too enthusiastically ? Bricked up.
He sees something that's shaped to be a little too curvy or phallic ? Stiff as a pole.
He remembers something mildly suggestive you did three years ago in that restaurant ? He's going to the Horny Realm.
Yes, his teammates have complained about his incessant moaning-come-grunting-come-whimpering through all hours of the night, his voice contorting through a spectrum of desperation and Johnny always ending up spent and overstimulated by the time the sun comes up.
And then he's ready to do it all again the second night touches the horizon line, giving his teammates a knowing smile when he walks into the room sporting nothing else save for a pair of boxers and a monster that looks to be trying to tear itself free from them.
Gaz
Dude's young. Of course he's throttling that rooster on a nigh-daily basis.
The only reason he's not at it as much as Soap is because he likes to believe he still has a few threads of his self-restraint intact.
He doesn't.
Especially when it comes to you (regardless of whether you're dating yet or not).
But he doesn't need to know that.
Honestly, the only thing that separates him from Johnny's unmatched libido is the fact that it takes a little more than the slightest provocation to get Gaz going.
Albeit, that line is a thin one.
If he so much as accidentally sees something explicit for upwards of three seconds, he's hard.
The only advantage of his need for satisfaction is the speed with which he can achieve it.
He and Johnny actually timed each other once to see who could get off the fastest.
Gaz won. Though, only by a slim margin.
Needless to say, that made for a rather interesting conversation with the Captain when he walked in on two of his best soldiers sat panting on the edge of their cots, an almost-translucent spray spattered across their stomachs, eyes half-lidded and hazy.
Ghost
The third-in-line for the Throttle Throne is none other than our beloved Ghost.
Unlike Johnny and Gaz, Ghost is more likely to leave himself alone at the first sign of trouble, toughing it out until he can will his mind to less lustful pastimes.
He won't make his jacking off known to anyone, either, often doing it in the shower where the water beats down so harshly that no sound can be heard for the water's fall.
That, and he's a master at keeping his voice low, no matter the circumstances.
More often than not, Simon makes quick work of jerking off purely because it’s a means to an end. However, if it’s you he’s thinking of, he’s much more likely to take his time — to immerse himself in the fantasy of your body around his, taking him so well in one capacity or another. Fucking yourself dumb on his cock.
During these times, he’s thorough — much more likely to edge himself, to throw his head back and growl between gritted teeth, to savour the sensation coiling in his stomach, his balls growing tight.
Otherwise, he’ll stroke one out as quickly as he can, getting back to business as usual.
And to look at him, on the surface, you'd never know that he just spent the last three minutes rubbing one out in the bathroom (yes, he is also a contender for first place in the 'Who Can Jack Off The Quickest Competition', but he'll never allow Johnny or Gaz the luxury of witnessing his unprecedented skill; that's for your eyes only).
Until he corners you, breathing down your neck, scolding you for tempting him - a man whose restraint lies only in his ability to hold off from reducing you to an exponential reflection of his prior state, breathless and covered in fluids.
König
Have you seen the size of that thing ? Man should be in the olympics for being able to throw that weight around.
Similarly to Ghost, König only gets himself off when it's absolutely necessary.
Only if he doesn't have you lying around to help him, of course.
Though, he lets himself have a bit of fun with it. Especially if it's been a tough day.
He's vocal, too. Though he tries not to be.
He just can't help it. Days' - maybe even weeks' - worth of unspent adrenaline and semen is hardly any way for a soldier like König to go about his life. So, he expels it in the privacy of quite literally any isolated space he can find.
König is not an adventurous spirit by any means when it comes to self pleasure, but when needs must, he's willing to shoulder the weight of the prospect that someone on his team could walk in at any second and catch him spraying his stomach or the wall white with, let's face it, thick ropes of cum.
Hong-Jin's actually caught him doing that before now.
That's actually how the two became friends: Horangi heard König grunting in the store cupboard and, knowing how stubborn his Colonel was with letting others know when he was injured, sought him out. Wanted to offer his help.
Catching Colonel König in the act of throwing his head back whilst growling the name '(Y/N)' into the darkest corner of the room was, suffice it to say, not what Horangi had been expecting.
Price
You just know he's cool with it. And by 'cool', I mean incredibly intentional, controlled, and not ravenous in the ways our other favourite military princesses are.
Sure, Price has gotten hard on the job a few times.
Who hasn't ?
But thanks to his level head, unwavering devotion to his work, and absolute refusal to acknowledge that he did, in fact, get a little bit of a chub during a shoot-out, he's managed to gain control over every facet of his body.
Until he comes home to you, of course.
Until he's able to loom over you like an omen and run his hands down your sides, stopping at your hips and pressing kisses that become more open-mouthed the further down the side of your neck he dips.
Pressing his hips into yours. Something demands your attention.
There have been very few occasions where a cold shower wasn't a quick enough fix for him.
When the days of having you milk him are too far out of sight, he's had to suffice with his own hands before now. Had to imagine - remember - what yours felt like in his place, your lips curled up as he gripped the chair arms, breathless as he moaned into the warm tones of your shared apartment.
But don't worry ! He'll be sure to catch you up on everything you've missed while he's been away once he returns.
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist
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#simon ghost riley#simon riley#ghost#ghost cod#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#cod x reader#ghost x reader#simon riley smut#ghost smut#john price x reader#john price smut#soap x reader#kyle gaz garrick#captain john price#cod#cod konig#konig x reader#konig smut#konig x you
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Good Pup
human!minho x puppy!reader x puppy!seungmin
synopsis: Minho is certain that no matter how much you disagree, your new weredog friend, Kim Seungmin, is not someone he can get along with. However, they have no choice but to team up when your first heat makes its way into the night. Maybe you were right, they do get along, even if it's just a little bit.
7.3k words (damn)
warnings! MDNI 18+, fem!reader, 3some, PIV, no protection, knotting, biting (slight blood), jealousy, bff!minho, coworker!seungmin, double penetration, heat, sex pill, pussy eating, humping (brief), super light mxm themes, minho and seungmin don't like each other
In this world, Minho thinks there are two types of people. And no, it doesn’t have anything to do with what kind of job you work or what your passion is. It doesn’t even matter if you’re a hybrid; the ones mixed with all sorts of animals with human DNA. No, none of those matter to him. People, fully human or not, all boil down to one thing.
Cats or dogs.
See, Minho likes to think of himself as a cat person. Someone who prefers to have leisure in their own time. Someone who doesn’t need constant stimulation from people or conversations. He’s content with being alone, satisfied even. Maybe Minho doesn’t have a furry tail or pointed ears that flick at the slightest sound unlike the werecats he sees daily, but his human identity doesn't stop him from thinking of himself - or anyone for that fact - as either cat or dog.
Despite living a rather secluded life, Minho doesn’t mind the few friends he keeps close, both human and feline. He does, however, mind dogs like any cat would. They’re too noisy, too needy, and too happy for no god-damn reason. Being surrounded by so much energy drains him quickly, and although Minho likes to think of himself as a lover of all animals, dogs are just… difficult. So you being one of his closest friends is such a mystery to him.
It doesn't matter how many times you’ve seen Minho. Your tail always swishes when you see him approaching, even now through the crowd of people. It wacks the nearby pedestrians walking and you embarrassingly apologize, grabbing your shaggy tail to try and prevent it from moving. And no matter how many times Minho sees you get so giddy just by looking at him, he smiles.
Just a little bit.
“You’re gonna kill someone with that thing,” he says once he’s close enough. You roll your eyes at him, the complete opposite of the thumping of your tail in your grasp. “Oh shut up. You made me wait in this heat. I should kill you for that.”
“In front of all these witnesses? You’d make a terrible hitman.” Minho can tell you’re irritated even with your happy tail. Your floppy ears are down, sweat beads on your forehead, and trickles down the sides of your face. The nails on your fingers are darker and sharper than usual. He recalls you complaining about the heat, but the forecast showed cloudy skies. Minho would hardly call it a hot day, not even a warm one.
Something’s up.
But like any cat person, he doesn’t say anything about his observations. “I say we get out of the sun and into the convenience store before you start plotting my murder. I’ll pay.” It’s his way of trying to make you feel better with whatever you’re stressed about. It seems to work by your nodding. Your tail is relaxed enough for you to set it down, using the back of your hand to wipe the perspiration that drips down to your neck. “That sounds good. And you don’t have to worry about tonight. The company’s paying for the dinner and drinks.” That familiar wolfish smile finds your lips, pulling back enough to show pointy canines.
Minho is always captivated by your mouth. The way it can twist so inhumanely from the plumpness of your lips to the sharpness of your teeth. His eyes lower just for a split second before he says, “Even for me? A plus one?”
“I’ll make sure,” you say with certainty. “They’ve been working me like a dog, no pun intended, and this is their way of making up to everyone busting their ass to make deadlines. If I don’t get my Scooby-snack, I will actually kill someone.”
That sputters a laugh from him. Minho takes his place beside you to begin your journey to the market while giggles keep spilling. “If you’re Scooby, does that make me Shaggy?” There’s still a smile on his face even when you shake your head, following his steps. “Nah. You’re more like Scrappy-Doo.”
-
Okay, there is something definitely wrong with you. Minho is well aware that weredogs enjoy being in close proximity. There have been multiple occasions of your tail tickling his arm, of your skin brushing against his while you walk. Hell, he’s even indulged in kinship by patting your head and letting his fingers caress your ears. It usually doesn’t take much for you to be satisfied with those simple touches, but today you seem…needy.
And it’s not just Minho who notices. Customers, humans and were-creatures alike, see how much you cling to him. The tail that was happily dancing half an hour ago now wraps around his torso. He can feel it against his back and he finds himself enjoying this strange hug.
Minho would usually say something. Maybe tease you and tell you to keep your tail to yourself, but something tells him that isn't the best idea right now.
You’re hardly talking. The yapping puppy he’s so familiar with is nowhere to be seen even though you're right next to him. Standing so close that he can feel your body heat that he swears is hotter than usual.
Maybe he should enjoy the peace and quiet that he rarely gets with you, but Minho is itching for his pup.
“You okay?”
There, he said it. Minho is so used to you talking without being asked to the point that he covers his ears just to drown out your words. You would whine, ears pulling down while tugging at his arms. “Listen to meee!”
But instead he has to coax it out of you this time. You pull your attention away from the snacks to look at him. “Huh? Yeah no, I’m good. I have been feeling out of it recently but I think it’s just my job. Sorry, am I being boring?”
Reassurance. One of the most common needs for a weredog. To hear that they’re needed with some praise. To put it in simple terms, you want to hear that you’re being a good girl. At this point, Minho is willing to do and say anything to get you back to normal.
“Boring? I never said that. Hanging out with you is the highlight of my week…even if your furry friend keeps smacking my back.” And just like that, your eyes shine with both happiness and embarrassment. You take back control of your tail and scold it, “Stop annoying my friend.” You swat at it gently and push it back down behind you.
Minho doesn’t even notice his hand reaching out to pet you before he can stop it. His soft palm makes contact with your hair, ruffling it before moving to your ears.
People nearby stare but Minho hardly cares. There’s something about bystanders knowing the reason for your soft rumbling and gleeful expression is because of him. Weird want, but Minho’s heard that weredogs just have that type of effect on people. Plus, Minho’s your friend. Friends are always there to help each other out and Minho just happens to be your best.
It doesn’t take much after that to get you back to your talkative self.
“Like, I just feel bad, ya know?” You say, reaching for a meaty sandwich in the deli section of the convenience store. “No one talks to him at work and he’s always alone at lunch. Like, yeah he has a scary face and doesn’t talk to anyone, but that doesn’t mean he’s a bad person.” A triple meat sandwich catches your attention and Minho watches your curved nails reach for the packaging.
Minho inspects the drinks. “Maybe he has that scary face and doesn’t talk to anybody because he doesn’t want to talk to anybody.”
You roll your eyes, adding your find to the small basket looped around Minho’s arm. “Yeah, and I could say the same thing about you.” You poke his broad chest with a nail. The pain is hardly there, but Minho fakes a wounded expression and grabs his pec dramatically. “I'm bleeding!”
“Oh shut up. You’re just trying to change the subject because you know I’m right.”
“Right about what?” Minho ditches his act. “About the fact that I don’t like talking to anybody? Good job, Sherlock.” The good job makes your tail sway just slightly and Minho smiles when he sees it.
“Oh? Then what are you doing right now with me?” You cross your arms and stare at him.
“Replying.”
“Which is…”
“Communicating.”
“And another word for that is…”
“...Moving my mouth.”
“You’re impossible.” you laugh. “Anywho, he just reminds me of how it was when we first met. You being brooding, quiet and me being awesome, of course.” The two of you venture further down the aisle. “What is it that you once told me? Something about people being dogs and cats?”
“Dogs or cats,” he corrects. “What about it?” Minho abruptly stops his steps when he sees jelly. Despite being human, you can practically see his pupils grow wide at the sight of them.
“So based on the description I gave you, which do you think he is?”
Minho doesn’t answer immediately, can’t when his favorite dessert is quite literally on display. So many choices, so many flavors. He should buy one of each for taste testing. A couple of seconds go by before he registers your question. “Oh. Um, you said he’s like me?”
You nod, “Mhm.”
“Then cat, obviously.” Minho chooses a coffee and vanilla flavor. He imagines you’ll prefer the coffee one. When he turns to face you, he’s surprised to see that you’re smiling, as if already knowing he was going to say that.
“But get this,” you hop on one leg to the other in weredog behavior. “He’s a were-dog! Like me! I don’t know what breed but I’ve never met a fellow pup so…cat. You might like him.”
Minho scoffs at your playful wink, “Don’t try setting me up on playdates. I’m fine with the friends I have now.”
You whine, a high-pitched noise coming from the back of your throat. It used to startle Minho, but now he’s grown accustomed to ignoring your complaints until you’re both at the counter emptying the basket.
The cashier is a young werefox. He has slender eyes that stick out, enhancing his hard jaw and smooth skin. As if tired of the day, the said fox scans the items lazily, saying a standard, "Is that gonna be all?” before shoving the goodies in a black bag.
“Well, whatever,” you smooth your puppy ears. “He’s gonna be at the dinner tonight, so you’re meeting him regardless.”
For some reason, the fox suddenly looks interested. He picks his head up and looks between Minho and you. He sniffs and jolts. Minho narrows his eyes, subtly tucking his head to his armpit and smelling. Does he stink? Minho’s thinking about changing his body wash when the cashier sniffs again, but his eyes lock on you instead.
In all werefox manner, the cashier shifts his gaze to Minho and gives a sly smile. “These are on the house.” He snatches a package so quickly off the counter that Minho can’t tell what it is as the cashier shoves it inside the bag. The fox slides the purchases to Minho, looking at you once more before winking, “Have fun tonight.”
Minho is quick to get you both out of there. Your ears are up straight, tail hanging loose between your legs while looking back. Since your tail isn’t tucked between your legs or abnormally stiff, Minho thinks he shouldn’t be too worried. But the encounter was strange, no matter how brief.
“Did you know that guy?” You say once you’re waiting for Minho to unlock his car.
He shakes his head, “Nah. Let’s just go.”
You don’t argue with that. Your ears flick at the sound of the door unlocking and you quickly find your seat inside the warm car. The image of the cashier crosses your mind and you look at Minho. “What’d he put in the bag?”
But Minho had already tossed the said bag in the backseat. He shrugs, “Don’t know. I’ll check it out when I get home.”
Short sentences, indirect messages to tell you to drop it. Minho is in his cat mood as he ignites the car to life and puts it in reserve. Normally, you’d crack a joke. Saying something to lighten the mood or change the subject, but you’re starting to feel hot all over again. Minho had just put the A/C on, but the warmth of the car has you heating up even more. You feel nauseous and Minho’s human scent plays no aid. Sometimes you get car sick and you’re assuming it’s one of those times. You close your eyes and breathe, telling yourself that you’ll feel better once you get home and take some medication.
It doesn’t matter how sick you are, you have a company dinner tonight that your best friend is attending and you’ll be damned if you missed just because of a little bug.
-
Minho is absolutely not taking his eyes off you tonight and no it’s not because of how good you look. Sure, maybe your button-up shirt stretches at the top because of how tight it is against your chest and yeah, maybe the black pencil skirt does wonders for your ass but those are not any of the reasons why Minho is watching you like a hawk. No, he’s stuck watching how you’re trying your best to pretend like you aren’t on the verge of turning into a puddle of sweat.
Even the other were-dog you mentioned earlier, Kim Seungmin, notices your strange behavior. Minho sees that his ears are up and that his tail swishes unsure. Still, none of that matters from how giddily you seem chatting it up with him. Something about managing to meet deadlines and confusion about the new code in the system, but it’s all white noise to Minho.
You’re close to Seungmin - a little too close. Minho tells himself over and over that weredogs have an instinct to want to be close, but that doesn’t mean he has to be happy with it.
It looks like your tails are dancing together as they swish, though yours is more erratic. Seungmin’s eyes travel everywhere and Minho is so close to leaning over you just to push him away.
“And the new code we have to use?” You groan. “I absolutely hate it.”
“You?” Seungmin challenges. “Hating something? I don’t believe it.”
Minho watches you scoff, watches the color of your face flush. It’s from your fever, he thinks. He hopes.
Why on Earth would you think he would be able to get along with someone like Seungmin? He was far too quiet when you happily introduced Minho - you’re best friend may he remind you - and didn’t so much as ask what type of job he works. Seungmin may be a cat, but Minho is starting to think he’s beginning to prefer dogs.
The male weredog leans closer to you and Minho straightens. He can hear how deep he inhales before Seungmin turns his head to the side, one ear flopping over. “Are you wearing a new perfume? It smells nice.”
“Oh, thank you.” You turn to your side, finally looking at Minho and smiling at him. His heart squeezes at the sight, how your eyes shine just looking at him. “Minho got it for me a while ago, but I only wear it on special occasions.”
The smirk on Seungmin’s face vanishes once he makes eye contact with Minho. And just like that, the moody expression Minho once wore turns smug. There’s a brief moment between the two men that you don’t see. A dirty look, a sneer, a smirk. It’s such a short interaction that speaks volumes.
Seungmin may be a dog on the outside, but that deadly look screams cat.
“God, why is it so hot in here?” You fan yourself with a hand, looking between your two friends. “I feel like I’m turning into a swamp.”
Minho glances at other people nearby. Your co-workers are drinking, eating, and talking about anything but how hot it is. Your fever must be getting out of hand and Minho is planning on asking you if you two should leave before Seungmin says, “When did your fever start?”
“Um,” you rub your hands together in an attempt to get yourself to stop feeling so antsy. Minho places a friendly hand on your knee. Nothing he’s never done before to soothe you, but you react as if he’s burned you. It feels like his hand sends shivers throughout your body and you can’t help but jolt. A soft whine leaves your lips, and poor Minho who can’t seem to notice that your distress is from his touch, decides to rub his thumb onto your skin.
What feels like buckets of arousal seep your underwear. You get the sudden urge to hump, a stupid weredog antic that you can never seem to get rid of. Your legs tense and you almost close them in an attempt to get some friction with Minho’s hand before you remember that Seungmin asked you a question.
“M-maybe a week ago or something? I think I just ate something bad.” But when you look at Seungmin for his response, he isn’t even facing you. His focus is on your lower half, watching with a predatory look in his eyes as Minho gently strokes his thumb on your thigh. Maybe you should feel weird that your co-worker is looking at you in such a way, but it strangely adds to the sensation Minho’s providing.
Seungmin inhales and groans, too quiet for the chatter of your company to notice but enough for you to accidentally snap your legs closed with Minho’s hand captive.
Then finally, Seungmin looks up between you and Minho and nods to the front door.
“Meet me outside.”
He doesn’t wait for a response before he grabs his jacket and leaves. A few coworkers complain and question him, but he silences them with a mere glare and a respectful, apologetic bow to his boss.
You and Minho look amongst each other and he carefully slides his hand out from the crease of your thighs. The two of you miss the warmth from the touch, but Minho is a little more concerned with how you’ve started to paw and grasp at his hand to get it back on you.
There was such a sense of urgency in Seungmin’s voice. As much as Minho was irritated with how he was looking at you, there was genuine worry there. It would be easy for you two to ditch Seungmin and leave on your own, but something tells him there’s more than just a stomach bug going on.
Minho takes his hand in yours, interlocking your fingers. He nearly hisses at how hot your skin is, but you only howl with satisfaction.
He stands, taking you with him, but your boss is quick to stop you from leaving. “Hey! Now where are you two going?” Shit, of course it wouldn’t be as easy to leave.
“I think she’s had too much to drink, sir.” A lie. You haven’t touched a single drink, but no one here is sober enough to know that. “It would be better to have her sleep it off so she can make it to work tomorrow.”
Minho hopes his excuse is enough and from the belly laugh that your boss gives, he thinks it is.
“I like the way you think! Make sure you take care of her. We’ve got a big project coming up and I need my best workers.”
A thank you, a quick bow, and Minho is quick to grab your things and lead you outside. To his luck, you play the drunk girl perfectly. Your full weight is on his shoulder that you’re leaning on, breathing into his neck and trying to nip his skin.Your tail is so out of control that you whack him and you as Minho walks to Seungmin.
No, this isn’t a fever.
And Seungmin is quick to confirm that the moment he sees how much you’re clinging onto Minho. He covers his mouth and nose with his hand. “Fuck. Your heat's getting bad. Why the fuck did you come in the condition?”
“I-I…no! Seung, I’m not. I can’t.” That seems to snap you out of your trance enough to answer him, but not enough to separate yourself from Minho.
“Heat?” Minho looks at you questioningly. Didn’t you tell me the doctors said you that your animal DNA is too small for heat periods?” Which he believed without question. Minho has known you for years and you’ve never had a heat in that time. Not so much as a story to tell or any suppressors he’s seen.
You look like you’re about to cry even with the hazy look in your eye. “They did! It’s way too late for me to experience my first heat. I’m just sick.”
Seungmin scoffs. “Sick? I don’t think so. Listen, the point is, you need to leave. I don’t mean to sound like a dick, but you’re going to attract were-males with your pheromones.” He looks around protectively and then back at you, putting his hand down. “Okay, I don’t mean to come off weird, but do you think you can…handle it on your own?”
There’s a silence between the three of you. Minho blinks rapidly. Did he hear that right? Is Seungmin, this man he just met tonight, really asking to hook up with you? In front of him? Your best friend?
He must have a death wish. “What the fuck are you saying, man?”
Seungmin averts his gaze to the other male. “Was I talking to you?”
“Seungmin!” You scold.
“Nah, you don’t get it, human. She’s in heat. You’re not going to be able to properly calm her down, or worse, she’s gonna go into a frenzy because you can’t.”
This is exactly why Minho can’t stand weredogs. They’re too obsessed with something that’s not even theirs. “And you think just ‘cuz you’re a dog you can? You don’t know me and you don’t know her. Get your snout out of our business.” Minho pulls you closer. “We’re leaving, let’s go.”
He only manages to get a few steps away before Seungmin spins him around. Being so close to him, Minho realizes he’s taller, but not by much. The ears add the illusion of extra height. It’s the piercing gaze, however, that makes Minho feel small. “Tell me, Minho, have you ever been with a were-female?”
“That’s none of your business. Fuck off.”
“I’ll go ahead and give you the benefit of the doubt and say sure, maybe you have once or twice. But have you ever been with one during their heat? During their first heat? Do you know what a weredog even does in heat? What they need? For fuck's sake, your stupid nose can’t even tell the difference from last week to this week.”
Seungmin takes a step closer until his chest is almost touching Minho’s. So close that you can smell how your heat is affecting him.
“I’m not doing this for a quick fuck and I’m sure as hell not doing it for you. Despite what your little human brain might think, I care. I care enough to make sure that she’ll go home safely and get properly taken care of. I’m not thinking of myself, unlike someone.”
It feels like a slap on the cheek. Minho’s jaw is so clenched that his teeth begin to ache. He wants to tell Seungmin that he doesn’t know what he’s talking about, that he’s wrong - but shit, is he really? Minho isn’t well-versed in weredogs outside of friendships and the hookups he had were all feline or human. It hurts to admit, but he doesn’t know. Minho doesn’t even know what to do with you still clinging onto him and dipping your hands up his shirt to feel his skin.
Fuuuck this.
Minho lets out a deep sigh, almost as if it hurts him to say, “You're not getting in my car. Just follow behind.”
And follow Seungmin does. On the road driving far too fast the speed limit, on the sidewalk leading up to Minho’s house, to the front door that you wobble to, up the stairs that inevitably lead to Minho’s room that you barge into.
The bed is the first thing you go to. Neither of the men have a chance to lay down any ground rules before you bury yourself between the sheets. Minho stares as you inhale his blanket, grabbing his pillow and biting down on it with your canines. It only takes a second before you roll onto your stomach and grind on it, effectively humping his favorite pillow.
No, he isn’t staring anymore, he’s gawking. Minho nearly flinches at the amount of drool his poor pillow has to endure.
“Are you just gonna stand there or what?” Seungmin rasps out. The voice breaks Minho’s attention, and although he knows the weredog beside him is male, he still jumps at the sight.
Seungmin is full of want. His ears are up straight, his tail swishes as if he’s watching a prey, his teeth are bared with a hint of saliva pooling at the corners of his mouth, and if Minho looks down, he could see the outline of a bulging-
“Mmm sorry,” you whine. “Smells so good. Min’ smells so good.” Your hips press up and down deeply, getting that nice friction on your clothed cunt. It looks cute, strangely, to see how desperate you are for a release. Minho would have liked to enjoy the scene longer if it wasn’t for Seungmin losing his patience. It takes a mere three strides for Seungmin’s long legs to reach you, his eyes pupils blown wide.
Within a second, Minho is beside him.
“Don’t get any-”
“Praise her,” Seungmin chokes out. “Pet her, touch her, fuck! Just do something. I’m going crazy.” He forces himself to back away from you, opting to pace around Minho’s room, trying to look for anything to distract himself from the rut he’s about to go in. Seungmin reaches for the bottom of his shirt and begins to hastily undress. He doesn’t even spare a glance at the human when he says, “Get her undressed. Weredogs need skin contact during their heat.”
Easier said than done. You’re clawing Minho’s skin affectionately and reaching for his belt. He feels like he’s wrestling you if he ignores his boner. He manages to unbutton your top, shaky hands reaching back to unclasp your bra but you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him close. Your legs wrap around his torso and bring him in, his cock to your cunt through the many layers of clothes.
“No, takes too long. Just put it in me. I’m so wet already.”
Your voice is a whisper in his ear. Minho realizes it’s because you don’t want Seungmin to hear. To sweeten the deal, you grind on his crotch. Minho’s knees are fully on the bed, giving you a much better angle to hump him instead.
You let out the smallest whine. The tiniest sound of pleasure from something other than masturbating, but Seungmin hears it. He whips his head quickly and rushes to you two with a small package in his hand.
Minho’s able to make it out when he gets closer. It’s from when you and him went to the convenience store earlier. When the fox cashier shot his sly smile and said, These are on the house. Have fun tonight.
“I don’t even want to know where you got these pills,” Seungmin tosses the package to Minho. “Take it now. It should have an effect within 5 minutes.”
Knot Cock! The package reads. INSTRUCTIONS: take 5-10 minutes prior to intercourse with weredog. Do not mix with other genitalia-morphing pills. drowsiness and mild pain are-
“Jesus fuck,” Seungmin moans. “Your pussy smells so good.”
Minho rips the package open and discards the warnings. He can read it later. Right now, he’s focused on dry swallowing the pill, finally removing his clothes, and helping Seungmin take off your skirt.
Strings of arousal stick to your underwear as the material goes down your legs. You whine at the cold air, but Seungmin is quick to reassure you. “Good. Good. You’re doing such a good job. I’m almost done, baby.”
A scowl appears on Minho’s expression when he glances at Seungmin. It’s hard to just look at his face when the two men are naked. It’s far too easy to notice the flush in Seungmin’s chest and cock. How different, yet similar, it looks to his own.
They’re doing this together, why is he taking all the credit? He’s not even supposed to be here, he’s just helping. “I got you,” Minho emphasizes. He places his hand on your bare thighs and gently spreads them apart.
In all its glory, your cunt shines with arousal. For a brief moment, the men stare. There’s no arguing with your pussy doing all the talking, wetness seeping through your folds as if it’s crying. It’s only seconds they take time drooling over you, but too many seconds too long. You impatiently reach your hand down and spread your lower lips, using your other hand to rub your fluttering hole.
“Please, pleaseplease-”
Seungmin moves first, much to Minho’s displeasure. A growl emits from his chest as Seungmin peels your hands away from your cunt. Saliva drips down his chin - down his neck. Minho thinks he might eat you, but Seungmin opts to devour your cunt.
The sound that leaves you is more of a howl than a moan. A noise of appreciation and pleasure at every swipe of his tongue. Seungmin’s throat vibrates with his grunts, it bobs with every gulp. You thread one hand into his hair and the other entwines with Minho’s fingers. Minho can’t tell if he’s squeezing your hand or if you're squeezing his, but it doesn’t matter. Not when a foreign haze begins to take hold of his senses, a pressure in his cock he’s never felt before.
Minho tears his gaze from Seungmin eating you out to see his cock enlarged. He’s never seen it so big and red. He’s especially never had a ring at the base, a near-identical state of Seungmin’s. The shock almost distracts him from the urge he’s getting - the urge to push Seungmin aside, to have you close to him in every and any way possible.
Crap, the pill is working a lot better than Minho would have guessed.
To try and fight the effects, Minho leans down to get a taste of your cunt. The scent of you grows stronger, but Minho isn’t able to get his lick in when Seungmin pulls away to growl at him. Much to Minho’s horror, he growls back. The men bare their teeth, a clear sign of intimidation and Minho doesn’t back away from even with Seungmin’s sharp canines.
You, however, notice the clash of pheromones. You hear the snarls loud enough to pick your head up and focus your dilated pupils. Roughly, you move your hands to grip the back of their heads and force them into your cunt. They bonk their foreheads slightly, a soft whine coming from Seungmin and a final snarl from Minho before they succumb to your taste.
They can’t notice how their tongues mix and clash, or maybe they do, but sucking on your clit outweighs the fact. You can’t find yourself to care when their tongues move as if they’re fighting. One muscle pushes the other out of the way just for it to do it back. It’s almost cute if it was in any other situation, but you still smile and moan when one tongue flicks your clit.
Without needing to speak to each other, the men silently agree to move together to hear you again. Starting towards the bottom of your clit, Minho and Seungmin glide up. You tremble and squeal when the tips of their tongue continuously flick at your bud, but they graciously dip back down. Looking at how they suck your clit only amplifies the feeling of pleasure, but you can’t look away. It’s a hypnotic sight, watching their tongues lap up and down, watching the saliva spread to your thighs and pelvis from how much they lick.
You could cum just like this, looking into their eyes with your cunt in their mouth, but you don’t want to finish like that. Your heat makes it so that it feels painful to be empty no matter how their tongues tease your entrance. The only thing you need to be satisfied is to be full. So full of cum that it leaks for weeks after. To be stuffed and properly bred into with any male. They may have fought in the beginning, but you’re beyond elated for your first heat to be with them.
It’s far too hard to use words, not when you're panting and moaning with every lick, but you manage to get out small, nonono’s that make Seungmin’s ears perk up. Minho takes the opportunity to fully be on your cunt, sucking and dragging his tongue while Seungmin paws up to you.
He doesn’t have to ask, his eyes say it all with the worry and arousal in them.
“Fuck me.” Gosh, you’ve never been so direct before. “No more licking just please. It hurts.” You place a hand on your stomach, emphasizing the emptiness. “Wanna be full.”
Minho swears when Seungmin rips his head from your cunt. He;’s forced off with Seungmin’s fingers in his hair. Minho might have snarled again, but he heard your begging. Heard how the two of them eating you out did little to help your heat. It was only a matter of time before either of them was inside you, but the real question is who. Maybe Minho would have been more open, thinking more logically, about letting Seungmin go first, but the drug in his system makes it so the most important thing is having you to himself.
The look Minho gives Seungmin is deadly. “I’m going first.”
Seungmin doesn’t so much as acknowledge his words - can’t when he’s already stroking his cock and balancing himself on his knees. Minho hates how he succumbs to the drug, shoving Seungmin so hard that he nearly falls off the bed. “I said -” But Seungmin doesn’t let Minho finish, interrupting the older male with a just-as-hard push.
“Stop,” you all but whisper. They look at you and the expression on your face makes them obey, save for the teeth. “I…I want both. Can’t I have both?”
Is that even possible? Minho can only imagine how difficult it would be to take two cocks, let alone knots that will surely have your pussy expanding. It seems like Seungmin is thinking the same thing based on his confused expression, but his rut makes him just as clueless as Minho.
The men look at each other, eyes clear for the first time in a while. No words are needed to come to a silent agreement. Minho tucks himself between you and the bed, flipping you the other way until you’re chest-to-chest with your best friend. Seungmin stays on his knees on the bed, his cock pointed at your entrance. It takes a bit more adjusting before you’re nicely sandwiched between the two and you wouldn’t have it any other way. Their scent covers you perfectly with their skin on every inch of yours.
You’ve never gotten the experience to nest, but you assume it feels something like this.
Minho’s erection sits between your thighs, hot and heavy. You should feel weird, gross even, having your closest friend getting ready to fuck you. That feeling never happens. Not even as you lift your hips for Minho to grab his cock and angle it towards your cunt.
“Tell me-” He moans when you slide your cunt against his tip. “T-tell me if it hurts.”
You would have laughed if you could. Feeling genuine pain seems impossible in your state, but you nod anyway.
Minho doesn’t waste time rubbing his dick on your cunt. His cock is throbbing so painfully that the only relief is sinking into you.
Inch by inch, he enters. The tip flares more than it normally would, not that you would know, and the stretch has you whining into his chest. His scent calms you and you suck on his skin to further soothe yourself. Minho isn’t going as slow as he wants to. He’s trying to open you up gently, but your cunt is so warm, so soft, that he can’t help himself from fucking into you until his artificial knot prevents him from going deeper.
Veins bulge from Minho’s neck. He’s never had sex like this - he’s never had such an urge to claim, to breed. His cock is unbelievably sensitive and your pussy feels like heaven. He groans, hands going to your ass to squeeze the pulp flesh.
It’s then that he feels a different set of hands that he’s reminded of the actual male were-dog. “I’m in. You can-”
Seungmin, who’s been patiently sitting, pushes into you without any further instruction. The intrusion makes you yip from surprise. Minho’s ears pick up on the sound and a sense of inhumane protection overcomes him. He thinks you’re in pain from the small howl, but you moan almost immediately after. Seungmin thrusts into you much quicker, much faster than Minho had initially.
“Finally.” It sounds guttural from Seungmin’s throat. “Been waiting forever.”
Unlike Minho, who at least tries to savor the feeling of your walls wrapped around his cock, Seungmin ruts into you. The force of his thrusts makes you rock against Minho’s length. You let out little squeals and whimpers with every move right into Minho’s ear. If he wanted, Minho could finish just like this. With Seungmin’s cock rubbing against his own and your pussy moving just enough for some friction.
But Minho doesn’t want to just cum.
He wants to carve himself in you. To make his mark in the deepest part of you. Minho places his feet flat on the bed to properly thrust. It only takes one time to have you biting down his chest, your sharp teeth digging painfully into his skin.
“Fuck!” Minho’s flesh tastes of salt and desire. “Fuuuuck…”
Seungmin puts his hands on your lower back, causing you to arch at just the right angle for their tips to kiss your cervix. They buck up into you with different tempos, one going in while the other goes out. It’s an endless feeling of being filled. You swear you can feel them touching the back of your throat with how deep they are.
Distantly, you can feel the wetness of Seungmin’s drool dripping onto your ass. Pulling your teeth from Minho’s chest, you turn back to see just as you thought. Seungmin’s eyes are blown wide, tail stiff and pointed upwards with his flat tongue hanging out. He probably doesn’t even notice the mess he’s making on your back with his eyes locked where you three connect.
Minho groans at the welt from the wound you’ve left, but the pain is quickly forgotten at your tightening walls. He's astonished, truthfully, at how much your cunt can open. How eager it is to be pumped and used until it’s satisfied. Words can’t seem to leave him though, he can’t tell you how much he loves feeling your cunt and Seungmin’s cock working together.
No, instead, the noises he’s making are eerily similar to Seungmin. To try and quiet himself, Minho buries his face into your neck. He licks and sucks the skin there, gripping your ass harder as he manages to finally match his pace with the were-dog.
With your scent (and with the help of the pill) he understands why you bit him. What better way to claim you than both on the inside and outside? His teeth graze the sensitive part of your neck. You whine, lifting your neck higher to allow Minho better access. It’s not as easy to do with your body jolting from their thrusts, but Seungmin is quick to help.
He uses a hand to grip your hair, lifting you so high that your chest completely lifts from Minho’s. You whimper at the sudden movement, but the men are quick to kiss each side of your throat in apology. The new angle has you gushing overwhelmingly. Minho might have to buy a new mattress entirely.
“Feel that?” Seungmin glances at Minho. “Feel that pussy clenching?”
Minho can’t find the will to pull his lips away from you, so he looks back at Seungmin in acknowledgment.
“That’s her telling us to cum in it. Ready to be bred like a good pup, huh?” He shakes his fist with your hair in his hand.
You let him wiggle your head, nodding along with the movements. Seungmin grunts with approval and keeps your neck bare to them. Their movements grow sloppy, suddenly unable to keep a solid rhythm with their cocks pushing deeper and deeper until you know it’s only a matter of time before their knots fill you. You feel your saliva drip down your chin and Minho is gracious enough to kiss the drool away.
Seungmin’s claws dig into your back and scalp and Minho’s blunt nails squeeze the flesh of your ass. They snarl, though this time, it’s far from how it was before.
“Shit. How are you still so tight with two cocks in you?” Minho grunts out. His teeth nip your throat and Seungmin mimics on the other side. “So close, pup.” Seungmin sucks harshly on your bruising flesh. “Gonna take our knots so good.”
“So good,” you confirm. “Give it to me. Min’... Seung’. I need it.”
It’s in unison that they bite you. Minho’s dull teeth hurt compared to Seungmin’s pointed canines, but the stinging on your neck is nothing compared to the stretch between your legs when they force their knots in. You nearly scream from the intrusion, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you finally, finally cum with every cell in your body.
Your cunt expands with the spurts of cum from their cocks. It’s impossible for anything to drip out of your cunt, their dicks are perfectly made to ensure your pussy swallows everything. Their growls are loud in your ears, possessive and satisfied with their knot being buried in you. Minho is first to pull his teeth away from you, licking the mark better until he moves to a different spot to suck. Seungmin, on the other hand, opts to bite harder, ensuring his teeth will leave marks you’ll have to cover up. It’s not until he tastes the familiar metallic tang that he pulls away and pacifies the sting with his lips.
Seungmin releases his grip and you collapse on Minho’s chest. The men give shallow thrusts to further guarantee that you’re stuffed before you whine and twitch. Their hands soothe your body to coax you further into relaxation.
Minutes pass by before Minho thinks he’s ready to move. He tries to pull his cock out, but he’s met with resistance as if his dick and your pussy are actually molded together…with Seungmin’s, unfortunately.
You bark out a cry from pain - not the good kind - and Seungmin growls with annoyance.
“What the fuck?” Minho looks bewildered. His confused eyes find Seungmin’s. “Why can’t I move?” You’d laugh if you weren’t so fucked out, or if the throbbing between your legs was bearable. Seungmin clicks his tongue and laughs colorlessly. “Cuz we’re knotted, pretty boy. You’re gonna be stuck with me for a while. Literally.”
#smut#skz smut#stray kids smut#stray kids#skz#skz hard thoughts#skz hard hours#skz seungmin#skz minho#minho smut#seungmin x reader#seungmin smut#minho#lee know#seungmin#seungmin stray kids#stray kids minho
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ok. years have passed and we've had some distance, so i'm finally gonna take the leap of faith that tma fandom is finally ready to hear me on this. let's talk about tannins.
161 was the first tma episode i heard on early release, and i felt the bit where martin declines wine and cites tannins was pretty obvious in its implications. cool, got it, say no more.
imagine my surprise when i was one of maybe three people i saw read between the lines there, in a fandom famous for red stringing--a fandom that immediately caught the much less obvious thread of ignition sources in the same episode. i'll spell it out: alcohol is an issue for martin.
maybe it just felt obvious because addiction is a pet issue for me--as it is for jonny, who has said everything he writes is filtered through a lens of addiction. i don't know if that's due to his own experience or a loved one's, and i won't speculate; i also don't know if martin personally struggled with drinking or just avoids it for fear he would, but alcohol would fit what we know of his family. his dad walking out and his mum spiralling into bitter wallowing and verbal abuse? i'd bet one or both of them drank, yeah.
on a basic level martin tries to decline alcohol, and that alone should have raised eyebrows given what we know of martin and, again, a fandom that dissects everything. we already knew martin "K" blackwood lied about his personal life and his family in particular, especially pre-canon, which is when this flashback took place. i was shocked that everyone took his flimsy excuse at face value with no further questions.
and the excuse is flimsy. martin turns down wine by--nervously--exclaiming tannins are "a proven headache trigger!" which sounds like trivia from a magazine cover and not the words of someone who actually has headaches--and it hasn't come up before or since. jon, confused, points out that tea, a drink martin consumes to a degree that is memetic both in- and out-of-universe, also contains tannins, and martin squawks a panicked, "what?!"
if tannins are enough of a concern for martin that he knew they're in wine and so avoids it, why didn't he know they're in his drink of choice? why does he still drink tea at the time of canon, and why doesn't he struggle with constant headaches from consuming 'a proven headache trigger' day in and day out? why, indeed, would someone avoid wine and not tea?
when sasha insists martin drink he caves and agrees to 'just a drop'. i imagine him pouring it in a plant, which admittedly he could have done if tannins really were the issue. i will say that i, for one, would be less likely to falsely agree to something that makes me physically ill than to a private issue that i'd rather not be pressed on any further. this scene also establishes martin's birthday was an ice cream party instead of the more traditional visit to a pub.
also, this scene was in the first episode of the final season, as one of three flashbacks that could have been to any pre-canon event in the archives. prime narrative real estate. not really time one would waste on establishing the important character context that martin has... headaches. which never comes up before or after, even regarding the week he spent in spiral town. but you know what is pretty crucial character background...?
it felt like a no-brainer, and yet all i saw was h/c fluff about jon attending to martin's headaches. and i hate feeling bitter about disability representation. i want folks with chronic headaches to feel seen and have fluffy escapist fantasies. i don't want to be mad about people portraying a character with a disability. but, guys? you got the wrong disability. jonny sent a clear message, and it went over fandom's head.
#martin blackwood#tma#the magnus archives#tma meta#the magnus archives meta#tma 161#mag161#sage speaks#sage original post#meta#im sure others caught it that i didnt see but listen. i was DEEP in the fandom. people getting it made up maybe 1% of the response i saw#and i had people fighting me for saying it#alcohol cw#alcoholism cw#addiction cw#greatest hits#wonderful news: tma fandom WAS ready to hear me say this!
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I feel like when people emphasize Akechi's murders, they often act like his motivation only boils down to "daddy issues" or they really make light of the impacts societal discrimination can have on a person. "But Futaba didn't end up like Akechi," I've seen people say, but the thing is, Akechi is meant to show the worst case scenario. Someone without anyone left to uplift him, to ground him, and to give him a reason to be better. Futaba had Sojiro, though that hardly justifies her mother's death, nor the horrible mistreatment from her relatives or what Shido put her through by framing Wakaba's death as a suicide. Futaba was in a very dark place, and she needed a helping hand. The Phantom Thieves saved her. But Akechi didn't have that helping hand when he needed it most. He lost his mother at a very young age, endured the foster system, never finding a new forever home, and at his absolute lowest point, was granted power he didn't understand with no one to guide him, and wanted to get close to Shido to one day backstab him and give him a taste of his own medicine. The murders came later, when Shido "instructed him." And given the way Shido yells at Akechi about what happens to people who cross him, and given what he did to Futaba (the men in suits), his cleaner, and how many people he had on his side, on top of Sojiro making it very clear how cutthroat Shido was to his enemies... Akechi was screwed no matter what. His face, his name, all of it could be used to ruin him in the real world. Alone, he would not have been enough to go through Shido's Palace, given how much trouble the Phantom Thieves had as a group. Plus, y'know, this:
Something so many people ignore when they talk about Akechi and his murders and ignore everything else the narrative tries to say about him.
What P5 tries to say about Akechi is so important to its core themes. That, if Akechi hadn't been a victim of so much injustice, he might have never gone to such lengths. That doesn't undo the damage he's done, but it's so important to understanding why the game approaches him with sympathy rather than writing him off as pure evil. Because it didn't have to be this way. If he had just met Joker sooner, if he had just had somebody. Akechi represents what can happen to vulnerable children who are failed by systems meant to uphold justice and other ideals, and how those who have nothing, who have only ever been hurt, are far more likely to lash out in turn. Persona 5 places so much importance on the suffering of children and the ways society needs to improve for the sake of children. That, I think, is one of the key reasons Akechi is framed as a victim. He is a warning, a cry to do better.
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today on splatoon mythbusters: is Agent 4 a country bumpkin?
no lol this is probably the funniest widespread misconception to come out in recent years A big part of it is because people misunderstood this map.
I came across this trivia point on the wiki page for agent 4 while making this post LOL agent 4 has better access to public transportation than 95% of you With all that green on the map and nothing marked in between, It seems that people have been assuming the population density of inkopolis looks something like the image on the left. While it's unclear exactly how big the population is of inkadia and the surrounding area is, going roughly off of how irl east Tokyo and neighboring Chiba prefecture look, i think its safe to guess were dealing with an urban area that looks more like whats on the right.
(side note about population count: i take the account of the Low Water Party with a grain of salt since that isnt even a real number they used. something that is more reliable is that graffiti artist Sally has over 240k followers on social media. while followers can be from anywhere in the world ofc, it sounds like her fanbase is largely in inkopolis. i think its safe to say inkopolis is a very big city!)
If we're to look more at the irl equivalent of the area, it seems the Inkopolis Coastal Connector is based on the Keiyo Line. Following that line roughly to where 4's house is lands us in a ward in Chiba city. It doesn't look like much, but about 100k people live in that area. Not a super crazy urban area like tokyo, but still urban.
(incidentally, a major landmark on the Keiyo line is Makuhari Messe, where 3 of the irl splatoon idol concerts have been held. maybe a coincidence but maybe gives more credence to the idea that that's what the coastal connector is based on?) Apparently on the Japanese side, there's a theory that 4 is from Yotsukaido, which is a little further north of the area i circled. why there? Yotsukaido means "4 town street"...4...haha
Ok enough guessing based on "vibes" and real maps that may or may not be accurate to how things are in the splatoon world. The Actual lore: On Splatoon base it's confirmed they grew up about 40 minutes away from Inkopolis by train, close to the city. That's like a nothing amount of distance.
Another developer interview from 2017 goes into more detail.
Inoue: Agent 3 had a very "I've finally made it to the city" feeling, with a strong desire to become fresh. 4 on the other hand, not so much. Rather than being someone from the countryside, they're more like someone who came from a commuter town within the greater metropolitan area. It's like a place where the limited express trains wouldn't stop at, but the semi-express trains would (laughs).
so agent 4 is very clearly, a city kid. agent 3 is the country bumpkin, from an area so far away its not even on the map. According to splatoon base...
Far enough away that they moved to inkopolis alone. meanwhile 4 lives close enough that they could just go home to their parents after battling.
Also this is something that I never see brought up. Amidst the dubiously canon early concept comics in the back of the artbook, there's a comic about agent 3 leaving their hometown, mentioning they live in a seaside town called [REDACTED] with a population of 5000.
Again, these comics are dubious since theyre so old. but there are ideas in these comics that have carried over to the final games in some form, and this is consistent with agent 3's final characterization that they come from a far away small town and had a longing for the city.
anyway tldr i think its funny how agent 4's fandom characterization/backstory got swapped with 3's all because of a misread map
#splatoon#agent 4#agent 3#splatoon lore#splatoon theory#also i will be deleting that blatantly wrong trivia point from agent 4's page
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Hey guys, we need to talk. Because a certain little something in TMAGP 8 is causing what is genuinely the most toxic part of the Magpod fandom at large to once again rear its ugly head. So let's talk about podcast character appearance head canons, shall we?
I'm tagging this with the Magnus Archives, TMA and Magpod tags because I am absolutely calling all of you out, but if you don't want spoilers for The Magnus Protocol episode 8 then stop reading right now.
.
.
. Okay, so, Gerry exists in the TMAGP universe. He's happy (or at least acts cheerful). And some people have headcanoned this to mean that he is no longer goth, or at the very least isn't dying his hair black with bad box color. And other people have decided to get seriously agro over this. I have literally seen with my very own eyeballs someone call "un-gothing" Gerry a "hate crime" and calling the person they were talking to "gothphobic."
Let me make this absolutely clear for all of you: podcasts are a purely audio medium and unless a physical trait of theirs is explicitely stated, everyone's headcanon for how a character appears is valid. Goth TMAGP Gerry is valid. But also
Rainbow Goth TMAGP Gerry is valid. Pastel Goth TMAGP Gerry is valid.
Not Goth At All TMAGP Gerry is valid.
Bald Gerry who has actually gotten his brain cancer diagnosed in time and is getting treated for it is valid. Somebody's headcanon of a character that has no canonical description to them, or whose headcanon matches the few crumbs of canonical description we have but otherwise doesn't look the way you imagine them to, is not going to take away from your own headcanon of what a character looks like. If someone imagining or drawing a character looking a different way from how you imagine them looking somehow takes away from your enjoyment of the fandom or otherwise makes you feel like you need to barge in and tell them that they're Wrong and need to conform to your headcanon or else, that is a reflection on you, not them.
And this problem way predates TMAGP, let alone TMAGP 8. The only description we have of John is that he is in his early 30's and has prematurely greying hair.
If someone thinks he looks like the pastiest motherfucker to ever dwell in a basement, an extra-in-the-Adam's Family or Tim Burtan protagonist of a man, let them.
What's that? You want to tell them that John is BROWN and if they don't headcanon him looking that way they're WRONG and RACIST? Back away from the keyboard and go outside.
(Ironically, as someone who started getting grey hairs in my hair in my 20's myself, I'm pretty sure everyone's headcanon of John, with tiny little whisps of grey in his hair, is wrong, because if he was so grey that people were surprised to learn he was "a child of the 90's," he was probably full on salt-and-pepper when he was in his 20's.)
The only description we have for Martin is that he (man who canonically has the self esteem of a used doormat) describes himself as "not the smallest guy", Not-Sasha called him "roomy", Melanie is skinner than him, and Jonny said he imagined him as a "bigger guy" who would beat Alex in a physical fight. If someone decides to take this information and conclude that it means he's tall, broad and has muscle, rather than that he's overweight, fucking let them. If your first instinct to this is to run to your keyboard and call them "fatphobic" or otherwise bash them for it, I once again urge you to back away from your keyboard and go outside.
Someone headcanons Basira not wearing a headscarf? We have exactly 0 canonical physical description of her and the people who headcanon her as having one are basing that purely off of her name alone. Fucking let them. Someone headcanons Melanie and/ or Georgie as a skin color you don't agree with or a hairstyle you don't like? Fucking let them. As long as someone's headcanon of a character's description doesn't contradict the few canonical descriptions we have of a character, why do you care? Them having a different headcanon from you doesn't take away your right to imagine the characters looking however you like, anymore than it should take away their right to do the same. Someone headcanoning John as white (or Black, or Asian, or Mixed, or whatever) isn't going to make all of the fanart of John as brown with long hair suddenly disappear, nor the fanfiction describing him as such (although I do often wonder if the opposite is not true; is the fact that John looks the same in so much of the fanart I see on here really because of fandom "consensus", or is it because people are absolutely awful to anyone who draws him Different?). Someone headcanoning Martin as not fat isn't going to make the mountains of fanart of him as a fluffy little marshmallow vanish into the void (although I do remember hearing about someone getting bullied off the internet for daring to draw Martin as not fat). And someone headcanoning Gerry in TMAGP as not being goth isn't going to take away your preciouse goth TMAGP Gerry headcanon. That should be part of the fun of it, shouldn't it? Seeing what different images people have conjured in their heads of these characters we only get to experience with our ears, and celebrating the differences as well as the similarities? Why are we bullying people into conforming to one appearance of a character when no actual canonical appearance of them exists?
#the magnus archives#tma#the magnus protocol#the magnus protocol spoilers#tmp#tmp spoilers#tmapg#tmagp spoilers#magpod
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Hi sage!! I hope you're doing well<33 do you mind doing jealousy headcanons for dan heng, jing yuan and any other characters you chose?? Thank you 🤍🤍 you're keeping the hsr x reader tag alive 😭
* pairing(s) : various hsr men (4, again) x gender neutral reader
* prompt : jealousy bites like you like a poisonous snake, the bite hurts, but its the venom that gets you.
* authors note : hi anon !!! (๑´ㅂ`๑) thank you for requesting, you're so sweet for the last msg omg tysm <3 i hope u enjoy !
* brief warning : blade kills a man, very blade of him. (his is also more of a joke im sorry blade lovers) ALSO THIS PROGRESSIVELY GETS SHORTER EACH CHARACTER, I JUST REALLY LIKE DAN HENG IM SORRY LMAO.
DAN HENG can't hide the way his eye twitches, how tightly he grips onto his spear or the way he'd mutter things under his breath. He despises it when he's jealous, but he hates it more when he sees the reason for doing so.
He knows he's.. not exactly like all your previous partners, it stemmed an insecurity in him. He wasn't all too funny, and knew he couldn't make you laugh with a corny joke.
So the way Sampo keeps making you laugh, making you smile, it was sparking a jealous flame in his heart. But more than anything, it saddened him that he couldn't make you laugh like that.
God, your smile was so pretty.
After a while, he interlocks his fingers with yours and mutters a small 'Can we go?' to you. You immediately notice his saddened tone, and thank Sampo for his time before walking home with your boyfriend.
"Dan Heng?" You say softly, noticing his rather saddened mood. He lets out a small hum to acknowledge your call for him, and you sigh. "Are you upset?"
He nods his head.
"Is it.. because of Sampo?"
He hesitates, but that alone gives you an answer.
Dan Heng takes a deep breath, before looking at you, his eyes filled with honesty. "I was.. jealous. I know I can't make you laugh the way he does, and it frustrates me. I want to be a man who makes you smile everyday but-"
Amidst his rant, he sees how your gaze softened at his words. This entire time, he was insecure? He hid it well, so well, at the very least from you. "I'm sorry, this is stupid-"
"N-no! It's not, I should be apologizing if anything! I failed to realize these things.. I'm sorry, my love. Sampo.. he makes me laugh, but you make my heart flutter. You make me feel things no one else can, okay? I'm yours, as you are mine."
He smiles at you, he's just happy he communicated his feelings, and you understood. "I'll be sure to try and tell you how I feel next time, okay? As long as you promise you'll stop hanging out with him. I was honestly afraid I was gonna have to get rid of him."
You blinked a few times, but he sighs. "I'm kiddinngg.."
JING YUAN knows he's far too good of a man, therefore doesn't get jealous.
He's yet to be disproven in the first part, but his golden eyes are filled with annoyance as the stares of a certain enemy of his lingers far too long on you.
You were filling in for Yanqing, he was absent for the day (something about falling into an ice cold river and getting sick or something...) and so someone needed to be there as the General would be meeting Blade.
And Jing Yuan couldn't ignore how Blade's eyes never left your form while he spoke, hanging your head down low and so you wouldn't notice. That made him greatly annoyed, almost unable to focus, but he had a mission at hand. And so he forced his jealousy to subside.
Needless to say, the small marks on your neck was embarassing to have seen in public. (And the small bird constantly pecking at Blade's hair was definitely also not Jing Yuans doing.)
GEPARD is so understanding, he evaluates every situation with logical thinking, as expected as a leader.
So it wasn't hard to figure out the intentions of the 'friend' that was speaking to you, how their voice was almost sweeter, and the way they clinged onto your arm was signalling red flags.
Gepard wouldn't have minded this, it could've easily been friendly gestures, but Serval is one of your closest friends and you were within a friendgroup. And she knows that person has a crush on you, and it was painfully obvious.
So naturally, he swiftly and surpisingly gently pulls you from the waist out of their grasp especially with how firm his grip around you was. He gives them a not so friendly glare, and plants a soft kiss to your lips. "My partner." He states, pulling you close as you're left to be stunned with the sudden posessiveness of your partner. "Mine."
Blade simply stares down at the person even attempting to approach you with clearly bad intentions. And if they dare to try to push their luck, Blade comes home with blood on his hands.
"What did you do??" You'd ask, you already knew the answer after already learning what Blade was truly like. "What was necessary." He replied, a kiss on your cheek as he walks in through the door to wash his hands.
#✹ ִֶָ ꐑꐑ entos paw prints#honkai star rail x reader#hsr x reader#honkai star rail#dan heng x reader#jing yuan x reader#gepard landau x reader#gepard x reader#blade hsr x reader
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Mounting Spring Ch. 3
Summary: Paradis has opened its doors to the world, and the Rumbling has not yet occurred. The military board insists, "We need more Ackermans!" to avoid ruining Mikasa's life. Levi agrees. Arranged marriage, explicit consent, Omegaverse. Alpha! Levi x Omega! Y/N. Mentions of underage marriage but it doesn't happen, the reader is over 21.Age gap but they are both adults. (I would say enemys to lover but they don't even know eachother to be enemys lol.) Author note: I've had this idea for so long… Omegaverse is my guilty pleasure, and I decided to treat myself with it. From the creator of "Not in season?" I bring to you "Mounting Spring" lmao haha sorry it's just that my first omegaverse was rather a success… so I decided to do another. Masterlist to the previous parts! Ao3 link in case you prefer to read there!
The raindrops fell over the cobblestones, and, in particular, those falling from the gable were heavy against the small porch of the chapel where she waited. She breathed into her hands, seeking warmth as she tilted her head to the side. Now alone, she felt her curiosity begin to spark, like a cat finally let out of its carrier.
The narrow side streets hinted at the town’s size and social standing, with only one main road that, incidentally, was the only paved one. She guessed that if the weather hadn’t been so dreary, she could have seen the end of it. Her more optimistic side blamed the weather, but the town struck her as dreadful. In the distance, her attention was drawn to the farmer who had been inside with them.
He was talking to someone she assumed was his wife or another townsperson, with his horse beside him and a border collie patiently waiting against his leg. Eventually, both of them turned to look at her, and she stiffened under their scrutiny.
‘Should I... wave at them? Don’t small towns know everyone? Should I start getting to know everyone?’
But as her mind filled with these thoughts, they turned back to talk to each other. She pressed her lips together, feeling time drag painfully. The coat over her head made her uneasy. Almost involuntarily, she took a few deep breaths, catching a faint scent in the air, and then another, more focused sniff. It felt like cheating somehow, though it wasn’t, as her nose itched from his scent, and her body seemed to process it more deeply.
‘It’s deeper than Die...’ she thought melancholically. Perhaps it was because she hadn’t encountered many unmated alphas in her life, or at least hadn’t gotten close enough to catch their scent. ‘Well… isn’t he humanity’s strength? ...something like that. I guess it takes some strong genes to be called that.’
“All right.” Levi’s voice startled her, and she tensed, turning to see him. He was drenched from his search for horses but seemed to handle it with a calmness, like sheep who don’t mind the sky falling on them. His hand held the reins of two horses, and, if her mind hadn’t been elsewhere, she might have chuckled.
The black horse was absurdly tall and elegant, while the other was a dirty white with grayish spots, shorter and with bulkier legs.
“You can have the one I rented if you prefer,” Levi offered, handing her the reins. But she didn’t take them right away.
“Um…” She hesitated. “Sorry. I’ve never ridden alone,” she explained. Then, feeling the need to clarify, she added, “I usually just take carts.”
Levi quickly grasped the issue. After a brief consideration, he reached back and switched the reins. "Take mine," he said, extending the reins of the black mare instead. "She’s calm and obedient.” Levi said, nodding toward the mare. “Scout-trained.”
She looked at the tall, sleek horse in front of her, nerves clear on her face. He jerked his thumb at the other smaller, stocky white one. “This one, I don’t know.”
Her hand tentatively moved forward to touch the mare’s nose. At her touch, the horse nudged forward, her dark eyes focused intently on her. The mare’s imposing size made her hesitate. “Can’t we just ride together?”
Levi, double-checking the saddle, looked back and replied firmly, “No. Too much mud on the way. I don’t want to put extra weight on her.”
When he finished adjusting the saddle, he held out his arm, gesturing for her to step closer. He gave her a once-over and instructed, “Take the cloak underneath. No point in wearing it now that it’s soaked.”
‘Well… he does enjoy giving orders,’ she thought.
Feeling self-conscious under his observant gaze, she removed his coat, then unfastened her cloak, which was heavy and sodden. Her cheeks flushed as she noticed the white dress beneath was now damp and clung uncomfortably. She quickly ran her hands over her arms, trying to cover up, but Levi moved smoothly, placing his coat back over her shoulders before tossing the soaked cloak over the mare’s back.
She took her position beside the mare, gripping the saddle, though her uncertainty was plain. “But… with my dress and that saddle, it’ll be difficult to ride with my legs on the side.”
“Ride with your legs apart.”
She looked over her shoulder at him as he moved to help her up. Despite his short height, he hoisted her up smoothly onto the mare. She was perched high above him now, gripping the reins and feeling the unfamiliar weight of control. Levi stepped back and gave her a once-over, as though to make sure she was seated safely.
“This isn’t very ladylike,” she murmured, her voice carrying a note of unease as the powerful animal shifted beneath her.
Levi raised an eyebrow, still maintaining his stoic look but with a glint of dry humor breaking through. “Well,” he said, his voice calm and low, “I’m the husband now, and I don’t mind it.”
But the silence that followed told him all he needed to know: she didn’t find it funny.
“Just hold steady,” he advised, placing a hand on the mare’s neck in an almost fatherly pat. “She’s been through rougher trips than this.”
The mare, as if responding to his touch, lowered her head, brushing her soft nose against his hair and disheveling it slightly, so that her dark fur mingled with his equally raven locks.
With that, he took the reins and knotted them to the other horse and swung himself up with practiced ease, barely flinching at the wet leather. It struck her that he was completely in his element, as if he belonged here in this bleak weather and muddy roads, as if he barely noticed the discomfort.
The rain pattered steadily, its soft murmur filling the quiet as Levi guided his horse through the thickening gloom of the forest. Her soaked white cloak hung limply from the horse’s saddle. The water on it was counterproductive to keep the warmth, so she took it off. The green trench coat pulled over her head helped more, but it was far from miraculous. Despite the rain, a thick fog was rising as they left the small countryside town and ventured deeper into the forest. Soon, the cobblestones ended, leaving the horses to trudge through thick mud. The road became nearly invisible just a few steps ahead, and she cast a nervous glance at the forest, which seemed to stretch on endlessly.
“Captain… shouldn’t we wait? It’s getting dark, and it could be dangerous,” she murmured, eyeing the shifting shadows between the trees.
Levi’s response was firm, almost cutting. “I told you to call me Levi, and don’t worry.” His tone was as sharp as his gaze ahead. She wasn’t convinced, her brows knitting together in silent protest. Y/N clung tightly to the saddle of the black mare Levi had called his own. His raven hair stuck to his forehead as the rain poured mercilessly on him without his trench coat. When she pressed again, “But—” he cut her off.
“I wouldn’t do anything dangerous,” he declared, his tone allowing no debate. “If I say it’s safe, it’s safe. Understood?”
She murmured a reluctant hum, clearly displeased, but he glanced back over his shoulder, eyes piercing. “I didn’t hear you.”
She swallowed, muttering low, “Understood.” The word fell with barely concealed disdain, and under her breath, she added with a hint of defiance, “…sir.”
‘He said it wasn’t that far...’ but as they continued, it became clear that the headquarters weren’t close by.
Each step the horse took forward felt like moving deeper into an enclosure, further away from family and friends. Eventually, the rocky forest path opened onto the scouts' rustic facility—a large training field of neatly trimmed grass and a main building looming in the darkness, with smaller buildings in the back. She squinted, barely able to make them out through the thick fog but guessed they might be the barracks, possibly separated by gender.
She thought they would stop at the main doors, but Levi guided the horses further. The place overwhelmed her—she didn’t know where to look, and the quietness, at least from the outside, only made her more curious.
“Where is everyone?” she asked.
Levi looked around the quiet training grounds. “It’s late. Most of the soldiers are in the mess hall for dinner or getting ready for curfew,” he explained, his eyes sweeping the area with practiced vigilance. “Especially in this shitty weather.”
He dismounted near a back entrance, which seemed to be a service area littered with discarded training materials. When the horses stopped, she moved to dismount, glancing down to gauge the distance to the ground.
“Need help?” he asked, already striding over with firm steps, his boots far better equipped for the weather than hers. He positioned himself behind her and said, “Let go, I got you.”
With his hands under her arms, he lifted her down with surprising ease. She turned quickly to face him, but he just said, “Stay here. I’ll put the horses away.” before she could protest.
Though Levi’s presence didn’t exactly warm the atmosphere, his absence made the cold settle in even deeper. She shifted uncomfortably, her gaze darting around hectic —taking in the swaying trees under t the gusting wind, the flashes of lightning splitting the clouds. While the rain had momentarily stopped on the way back, it was obvious it wasn’t over. The forest sounds felt ominous in the dark, with only dim light illuminating the semi-open area at the back of the building.
‘I feel like a doe... in the middle of a meadow.’
Ignoring Levi’s instruction, she opened the door and stepped inside. She glanced down both ends of the corridor, where yellowish candlelight cast a warm glow. The hum of distant voices filled the air, and she wrinkled her nose in distaste. ‘It stinks.’
It reeked of alphas—too many of them. Down the corridor to her left, she saw two young women, a brunette and a dark-haired one, passing by. The brunette noticed her standing in the hallway and looked back with a puzzled expression.
‘Alright, maybe this time I should actually introduce myself.’
She raised a hand slightly, giving a tentative wave, but the brunette turned, calling out to someone—
“I thought I told you to stay there.” Levi’s voice cut in from behind, firm with a trace of irritation as he locked the back door. Without further comment, he led her up a nearby staircase, his movements swift and purposeful.
“But—” she started to object, glancing to the side, but he was already nudging her forward. His hand hovered at her back, as if nudging her without physically touching her, more a mental command than a physical push.
As they ascended the stairs, Sasha, a brunette at the far end of the corridor, tugged on Jean and Connie’s arms. “See, she’s there!” she exclaimed. But when the three of them looked down the hall, no one was there—only a trail of muddy footprints.
“...She was there,” Sasha insisted.
Jean shot her a skeptical look. “Sasha, are you that hungry you’re seeing things... again?”
Sasha frowned, clearly annoyed. “I saw her! I might be hungry, but I’m not imagining things.”
“Well, she’s not there now, that’s for sure,” Connie said, stretching his arms behind his head. “Maybe a ghost?”
“A suicidal one,” Jean added dryly. “Only higher-ups use the back door. And if Captain Levi sees that mud, he’d probably drag out a Ouija board just to kick that ghost’s ass for dirtying his floors.”
Sasha and Connie started to walk away, but Jean paused, wrinkling his nose and sniffing the air with a puzzled expression. “...I do smell something strange, though.”
Sasha and Connie shrugged, both of them betas, unable to pick up on any scent. But Mikasa, overhearing, joined them, her dark eyes narrowing. “Jasmine, berries, and coconut milk.”
Jean shot her a smirk. “Well, I did switch to a new cologne…”
But Mikasa ignored him, already walking ahead with a thoughtful expression, leaving Jean to trail off, his attempt at humor forgotten.
As they moved through the winding corridors, she struggled to keep pace. Levi’s stride was steady and brisk, his attention fixed forward, but after a few glances back, he seemed to notice her struggle. With a subtle sigh, he slowed his pace focusing on her feet to match her pace.
As he did so, he couldn’t help but notice the trail of mud they were leaving behind. Each footprint was a smear of damp earth and grime on the clean floor. His jaw tightened, and he clicked his tongue in irritation. ‘Focus on the important shit,’ he reminded himself.
Reaching the door to his chambers, he patted his trousers absently, then checked the pockets of his uniform jacket. His brow creased in mild annoyance before he remembered: ‘The keys are in my coat.’
He moved closer to her, his face showing a rare hint of apology. “Sorry,” he murmured, reaching into the pockets of the coat she wore. She held still as he fished around, finally pulling out the key with a subtle nod.
Before turning the key in the lock, he looked down at her shoes, now caked in mud.
“Wait,” he muttered, holding a hand up. He gestured to her shoes with a short nod. “Shoes off,” he instructed, bending to remove his own boots first, leaving them by the doorway. She followed suit, slipping off her mud-caked shoes, which felt heavier with every step.
She hesitated, glancing at the mud-covered shoes, but then leaned against the wall to remove her shoes. He did the same, tugging off his own boots and setting them neatly to the side. Once they were both ready, he unlocked the door and pushed it open, holding it for her to step inside.
To be honest, she couldn’t say she was disappointed—her journey to his office had shown her this wasn’t the marriage she’d imagined. She’d heard the Scouts were… humble people. ‘A sweet way to call them low class,’ she thought wryly, fiddling with her loose ring, trying to keep it from slipping off her finger. Part of her almost wished the room would stay dark so she wouldn’t have to face reality, while another part hoped for a glimmer of candlelight to surprise her for the better.
Levi shut the door behind him with a subtle sigh, closing his eyes briefly, as if gathering strength from somewhere unknown. ‘One task down,’ he reminded himself, as if safely getting her to the Scout headquarters unnoticed was his toughest mission yet. He shrugged off his uniform jacket and hung it on the coat rack by the door.
She stood, frozen in place, as he walked past her, lighting a few candles he’d set up earlier. He busied himself lighting more, methodically checking off tasks from his mental to-do list. “Why don’t you take a shower? The water should be warm,” he suggested.
‘And... here it is,’ she thought, her pupils darting around the room as though afraid to turn her head, scanning the place as the light started to fill it. She tried to hide her discomfort, not so much from a lack of hygiene as from a lack of warmth. Catching his eyes on her, she forced a thin smile. “Very... modest.”
‘…Empty and rustic, but the last thing I want to find out is what he’s like when he’s mad.’
The room had only two doors: one, she guessed, led to a small bathroom, and the other to the bedroom. The main space was an office with a single shelf filled with books and not much else. ‘Doesn’t he have paintings or decorations?’ She found herself searching for anything that might make the space feel less austere and more homely, something to give her a glimpse of who he was. The office seemed to be the most furnished part of the quarters, with a set of sofas, a coffee table by the fireplace, and a desk. The large arched window was probably his only indulgence, a feature suggesting he spent most of his time here.
“Shower?” Levi insisted, “Don’t take it personally, but I’d like to shower too.”
That snapped her out of her trance. “Oh—sure,” in a small voice. “Um... where did you put my luggage?”
Levi’s brow furrowed, and after a moment, he realized he hadn’t noticed her lack of belongings. “Was I supposed to have it?” he replied, answering her question with another—not a habit of his.
“I sent it ahead, two days ago,” she explained, “They told me it would be best.”
His eyes flicked to the window and the rain still pouring down outside. ‘Well… I think it’s pretty clear why that didn’t arrive yet.’
With a weary sigh, Levi leaned against his desk, one hand running over his damp hair. He looked worn out, both physically and emotionally. “This is a rural area,” he said, “and with this rain, it could take a few more days. A cart wouldn’t make it through the forest right now.”
Levi stepped over to his bedroom, opened a few drawers, and, without moving from her spot, she couldn’t resist sneaking a look. She leaned forward, trying to get a glimpse over the door frame.
She couldn’t see much, but curiosity stretched her mouth open as she craned her neck. A chest of drawers held neatly folded clothes, a couple of books stacked on top, and a wardrobe nearby had boxes on top that reached the ceiling (probably he used it as storage) with boots lined up beneath it. There was a standing mirror in one corner and she could only see the wood footboard of a small bed against the wall.
“Here, you can—” Levi turned back toward her, catching her in the act of peeking. She straightened up quickly, feigning innocence. He raised an eyebrow at her obvious interest. “It’s not as if it’s off-limits. Walk in if you want.”
‘Like a dog caught digging through the trash,’ he thought, mildly amused by her guilty expression.
“Anyway, here.” He handed her some clothes. “The rest is in the bathroom.”
She took them with a distracted nod, disappearing behind the bathroom door.
“Ah...” He let out a deep breath he didn’t know he was holding as he let himself collapse, boneless, into his desk chair. His hair was soaked, as was the rest of him, but he didn’t care. “A moment of silence.”
Though she hadn’t said much, her silence was somehow louder than any words. Covering his eyes with his forearm, he felt drained—he’d been through expeditions to retake Wall Maria, yet this felt just as exhausting. But as always, Levi quickly pushed himself back up, pressing the bridge of his nose to calm the headache beginning to throb behind his eyes, and moved on.
“I don’t have time to slack off,” he grunted to himself. He didn’t have much firewood left—it had been an unusually warm spring until today, and firewood was a luxury he was used to being frugal with, like nearly everything else in his life.
'She should probably dry her hair before bed,' he thought, setting a kettle of water on in case she wanted tea. He considered making himself a cup but, as “going to bed” crossed his mind, the idea shifted to the liquor he had stashed in a cabinet. He poured himself a small glass, not intending to get drunk, but needing something that soothed him better than his usual caffeine.
The fire began warming the room, and he placed his coat and jacket near it. He stepped outside briefly to bring in their shoes, cleaning them off and setting them to dry. The kettle’s whistle echoed in the quiet room, and he took it off the heat. That’s when a thought began to bother him.
‘Should I check?’ He found himself near the bathroom door, ear pressed against it, straining to hear any sign of life. ‘What if she passed out in there?... or maybe she’s just constipated and can’t take a shit’
Knocking softly, he asked, “You okay in there?”
“Yes, sorry.”
Relieved but mildly exasperated, he shook his head. She’s using up all the water in the place, he thought, realizing she’d definitely not adapted to the military’s five-minute shower rule.
Inside the bathroom, she was struggling to detangle her hair, but there was no conditioner, no hair mask, or anything remotely helpful. Her skin felt dry without any lotion, slightly raw from the harsh soap he had. Her hair smelled vaguely like cucumber, a tangled mess that only worsened under her frustrated attempts.
“We are not going to cry, we are not going to cry,” she kept whispering to herself in front of the mirror.
‘This was supposed to be my wedding night,’
For as long as she could remember, she had dreamed of her fiancé slowly, reverently helping her out of her wedding dress—a dress chosen just for him. She’d imagined him finally seeing her, her skin soft, her scent sweet enough to eat, a blend of lotion, perfume, everything.
Instead, here she was, struggling with tangled hair and an uncooperative brush, her mascara still on because there was no makeup remover, wearing a baggy T-shirt and gray sweatpants, smelling like some generic soap, with her wedding dress stuffed in a dirty laundry basket.
A million questions rushed through her mind. ‘What do I do?… Should I just lay there and let him do whatever he wants?’ ‘Is it going to hurt?’ ‘Would he force me to do something?’
“I could lock myself in here forever,” she reasoned, gripping the doorknob. ‘…Or could I?’
But eventually, she stepped out cautiously, slowly opening the door. He was sitting with his back to her, watching the fire from one of the couches. When he sensed her presence, he glanced over his shoulder. “Finally. For a moment, I thought you drowned in there.”
Eyes downcast, she muttered, “Sorry.”
Levi clicked his tongue. “It was a joke,” he grunted, feeling like nothing he said made the situation any less awkward.
Levi noticed her standing there, looking unsure and uncomfortable, and with a small sigh, he gestured toward the couch. "Sit down," he said, his tone a bit softer than usual. "Dry up. It's cold in here."
She hesitated but finally obeyed, slowly lowering herself onto the couch, her hands still clinging to her damp hair. Levi awkwardly stood for a moment, unsure of what to do next, before clearing his throat before speaking again.
"Do you want something to eat? I can go see if there’s anything left from dinner," he asked awkwardly, already knowing she hadn’t eaten since the long journey.
She didn’t reply immediately, only giving a soft hum as her response. Levi looked over his shoulder, brow furrowed.
"That’s a no, then?" he muttered, then shifted his weight and walked to the desk. He leaned against it, sipping from his glass.
"Fine," he muttered, “but I prefer when people actually answer me with words.”
She didn’t respond. He glanced over at her, then added, “You sure? I can bring something. I don’t mind.”
"No, thank you," she replied, her voice quiet but clear.
Levi let out a small grunt of acknowledgment, not wanting to push her. He felt an odd tension in the air as he took another sip from his drink. “Alright then.” He paused before offering, "Tea, maybe?”
"No, thank you." Her voice was quiet, distant.
Levi exhaled a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his wet hair as he tried to focus on the fire.
The tension lingered in the air, and after a moment, she spoke again, breaking the silence.
"When do you think my things will arrive?" she asked, a note of uncertainty in her voice.
Levi glanced at her, "Could take a while. The roads are bad, especially with this weather." He paused, his eyes meeting hers for a moment before continuing. "But if you need anything urgently, just tell me."
She hesitated, her eyes darting away. Levi frowned slightly, sensing she was holding something back. He was starting to feel a little impatient.
"Are you still on the rags?" he asked bluntly, unable to ignore the subtle discomfort in the way she fidgeted. "Need something for that?"
Her eyes widened, a blush creeping across her face as she looked away, clearly embarrassed by the question. She seemed to shrink under his gaze, her shoulders stiffening.
"I-I’m fine," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.
Levi raised an eyebrow, not entirely convinced by her answer. He didn’t know her well enough to be sure, but he was certain that something was off. He wasn’t about to let her go without offering help, though.
"Look, if you need anything, just say it." He rubbed the back of his neck, his voice softening slightly, “I can be named humanity’s strongest and all that bullshit but I’m not a mind reader,”
She didn’t meet his eyes, still hesitant, but Levi stood still, waiting for her to speak. ‘There’s no point dragging this out any longer,’ she decided.
“No, uh—” she chose her words carefully, “I’m over it.”
Levi still seemed confused, so she clarified, her face growing redder by the second. “I’m... ready for you… whenever you tell me.”
Her words dropped into the room like the cannonballs once used to break titans’ necks. Levi’s first thought, admittedly, wasn’t his most noble: ‘So... she thinks people don’t fuck when women are bleeding or?’
Lost in his thoughts and the awkwardness of the moment, he didn’t notice how she bit her lip, glancing up at him shyly. “Just—please, don’t be too rough on me.”
Captain Levi always had a comeback, a retort, a dry response. But now, he only pressed his fingers against his glass, eyes locked with hers, lips parted as if to speak but words caught in the back of his throat. Across his life, he’d seen people look at him in many ways—admiration, anger, pity, fear—but hers was different. Her eyes, reflective and tinged red, stared up at him with something close to terror. A terror filled with pure resignation, pleading him.
His jaw tightened, and he felt a knot form in his throat. ‘I’m going to make those bastards pay for this,’ He broke eye contact, turning his head and squeezing his eyes shut.
It was painful, painful for him to think someone could look at him like that. To see him as someone who might treat her as an object, begging him that at least, if he was going to do that, not to be a brute about it. But the worst part, the thought that clenched his throat even more was: ‘Like my mother…’
The room felt silent except for the branches scratching against the window in the storm outside and the flickering firelight. He forced his voice to sound steady. “Just go to bed.”
“Huh?” she asked, confused. “...Should I...wait for you there?”
Levi shook his head. “I can’t do it. Just go to bed. You look like shit.”
He wasn’t known for being the best communicator, and his words often got lost in translation. She blinked, panic rising in her eyes. “I’m...not pretty enough? I tried to look my best—I didn’t mean to disappoint. Please, don’t call this off…”
The thought of being sent back as a failure made her stomach turn. Her family, her younger sisters, her grandmother—they all depended on her.
Levi raised his hand, stopping her mid-sentence. “Oi, oi, relax. I didn’t mean that—damn it! I meant you look tired.”
“But—” she hesitated, moving a step toward him but keeping her distance.
“Shit,” he muttered, his cheeks warming slightly. “It has nothing to do with that.”
Her confusion was clear, so he forced himself to say it: “You’re...pretty, alright? That’s not the issue.”
She still looked uncertain. “If you don’t…claim me…what will people say?” she asked. “People will look down on you as a soldier, as a man...as an alpha.”
Levi chuckled, though he didn’t mean it. “Well, one good thing about who I am is that everyone’s too scared to say anything to my face,” he replied, almost gently. “I just can’t—not while you’re this scared.”
The truth hung in the air, and she resumed fidgeting with her ring, frowning as she looked at the carpet and her voice grew quieter. “What if…I never want to?”
Levi shrugged, too tired to pretend. “Then I guess we’ll wait until next spring when we’re both so damn drunk on hormones, you’ll be begging for it, and neither of us will remember it.”
"Spring?" she echoed, her caution mixed with disbelief. "But that’s a long wait..."
“Oh, well,” he said, with a dry humor, “we’ll just have to try not to kill each other in the meantime.” He gestured to the room. “Go to bed.”
"Where will you sleep?" she asked, then added, almost disappointed, "Do you... have someone else?"
Not that she was jealous, but she’d heard that “a good wife always knows.”
This time, the question made Levi scoff, an amused smirk tugging at his lips. “Good one. No, I don’t. I don’t even use the bed—I sleep at my desk.”
‘That can’t be healthy,’ she thought, grimacing. But, like a mouse just freed by a cat, she walked cautiously toward the bedroom, unsure if this escape was real. That can’t be healthy, she thought with a grimace of disapproval. But with hesitant steps, like a mouse released from a cat’s grip, she headed toward the room, still unsure how real this escape was.
Levi finished his drink, then readied himself to take his own shower, thinking, ‘It’s going to be a long, tense wait until next spring.’
A wait filled with mounting anxiety.
Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out. Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @l3visthighs @hannieslovebot @flxrartsstuff @feelingsandemotionsnotexplored @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @katharinasdiaryy @ackermanswifee @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @searriously @blackdxggr @storiesofsung @abiatackerman @braunsbabe @moonchild-angel @galactict3a @lemonsupernova @hyuckwon-my-husbands @heyitsd1yaa @sydneyyuu @love-for-faeries-go-burrrr @mandaax @sugacor3 @r0ckst4rjk @vegetasgirl2799 @catiwinky @pinksaiyans @sparklykeylime Wanna join my tag list? Here!
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does tommy ever feel the wrath of joel’s pregnant wife or does she reserve that specifically for joel? I feel like tommy would get on her nerves a little bit 😂
I was waiting for someone to ask this! Tbh I think preggo wife saves her wrath for Joel simply because shes comfortable with him and can relax and let her guard down. With Tommy alone....
Tommy Dealing with Preggo Wife
Warnings: just language and Joel and Wife being insecure in their own (slightly toxic) ways
- - - -
You were super pregnant at this point. A couple weeks away from making Joel a doting husband to a doting father, and he was probably more on edge than you were. Your anxious little poor husband Joel, freaking out that he needed to take a weekend trip away, and the only person he can rely to watch over you--
"I don't need to be fucking baby sat--!"
-- his sweet, helpless, innocent little pregnant wife, is unfortunately, Tommy.
"Ok listen very carefully," Joel starts, now having Tommy's full attention like he's about to ask him to do his first heart transplant. "She doesn't go anywhere unless you decide. She eats what you put in front of her, and you don't take her shit. She's gonna be bitchy and whiny and crying. She needs to rest. Rub her shoulder, put her feet up, whatever. But you gotta tough through and just make sure she understands that you're in charge. And what you say, goes. Got it?"
He knows Joel is relying on him to take care of his most precious belonging...who also is the devil. "Ok...ok. I mean it's like a... like watching a toddler, right?" Tommy asks, unsure about the whole thing.
"Yeah... a pregnant one that weighs more than ya and swears and probably will slap you a lot."
Joel smacks Tommy's shoulder lovingly with an encouraging smile.
Tommy feels even more hesitant. but he knows that he just needs to channel his inner Joel this weekend: stern, unmoving, and commanding, and he'll do just fine navigating you.
Joel hugs you real tight and kisses your forehead, inhaling your hair deeply as if to etch it into his brain. "I love you, baby, I'm gonna miss you so--"
"Later fucker." you pat his bum and wave him off as you waddle away in his large T shirt towards the freezer drawer, pulling out a Ben and Jerry's fudge pint with wet lips and a grin.
Tommy shrugs and helps Joel out to the truck with his bag. he waves goodbye as his brother backs out the driveway, shouting "YOU'RE IN CHARGE!"
I'm in charge, I'm in charge, he chants to himself, taking a deep breath before entering your house again.
"Alright!" he claps his hands together awkwardly but with a tone leadership. "We are going to stay in bed today,"
"Mall," you grump though a big scoop of ice cream.
"W-what?"
"M'goin ta mall. Yur takin mee," you nod towards him casually, gulping another spoon.
"uhh-h." Tommy looks around anxiously. Was this part of the test? He should put his foot down, yeah, Joel said you go no where unless Tommy explicitly said so. "N-no."
you swallow. "'Scuse me?"
"N-no? I mean... no! I said, we are putting you in bed, and what i say, go--"
"Thomas Miller," you say, and an eerie sense of fear swallows Tommy, sending shivers all over his body. Despite the 90 degree forecast, its like someone just tossed his insides into a freezer, and you were locking him in.
"Y-yes...maam," he whispers, feeling small.
"We can either do this... the hard way," you tilt your head with a sinister gaze towards him, as if referencing that bit of "Joel" he's trying to channel inside. "Or, we can do this... my way." The way you smile at the end is somehow even more threatening than the chilled tone you're having with him.
It was like when he and Joel broke his grandma's vase, and rather than yelling at them, she had the exact same terrifyingly threatening voice, and it made Tommy sleep with one eye open for a week.
"What will it be, Thomas."
He remembers to breathe shakily through his nose, licking his parched lower lip.
He doesn't want to be known as the guy who got beat up by his pregnant sister in law.
-
"Do you want a pretzel?" you ask kindly.
"Ah... no--no that's okay--"
"I'm getting you one, honey, just say Thank you."
"Okay. T-thank you."
Tommy bites into the cinnamon sugar one with the extra glaze you had ordered, and he had never felt such sweet heaven.
"Joel used to yell at me for my sweet tooth," he admits as the two of you stuff your faces and waltz slowly down the mall halls.
"Me too!" you bump his shoulder heartily.
Tommy lets out a relaxed sigh. From the moment he agreed to do whatever it was you wanted, the weekend had been fantastic. Turns out, you're not only super fun to blast kareoke to the worst songs in the car, but also all full of warmth, laughter, and even more suprisingly, extremely generous at offering to spoil him rotten like a mother with her favorite child.
"What can I make you for dinner?"
"Wha--no I'm supposed to cook for you--"
"Tommy stop please. I want to make you something. You have to be stuck with me all day walking like a slow penguin. I want to do something for you. You deserve it. "
You hadn't noticed Tommy pausing along your walk, watching you in awe as you waddled about, gently caressing your tummy absentmindedly as you window shopped.
This was the demon that Joel complained about every hour of the day???
And even more concerning was: how did someone like JOEL manage to score a girl like YOU???
You were so peaceful, generous, kind, loving, all smiles and willing to take care of him.
Was he doing everything right or everything wrong?
The two of you return home, with Tommy hauling more gifts that you had bought him. He really wasn't able to protest, with you somehow disappearing from sight conveniently, to his horror that he somehow lost you like a puppy in the park, and then finding you suddenly swiping your card at a register.
He should feel bad, truly, but you were just in such a good mood, he didn't want to seem ungrateful. And he also.... really liked all of it.
"Oh these are so fuckin nice!" He cheers, pulling out the new sneakers you had just bought in it's wrapping paper. "Mine are--"
"Old and ratty, yes I know that's why I bought them. Sick of your nasty shoes trailing my house--"
"S-sorry--"
"Bought you some fuzzy slippers too so you can switch out when you come in."
"Im not really a slippers guy..."
"You are now."
You ended up making a quick spaghetti, slapping him away every time he tried to hover in the kitchen. "I wanna stand! good exercise!" you nod with a smile.
And it seemed like you meant it. Despite babyzilla cooking and ready to burst out, you were light on your feet in the kitchen. Like a ballerina dancing and swaying, you hummed to a tune in your head as you tasted the sauce on the spatula. You were in the zone, in your world. and it was genuinely... beautiful. He understood it now, when people say pregnant women glow. the entire time, Joel always said you did, but he only ever saw how tired the pregnancy made the both of you.
Was... Joel the problem?
After a hearty dinner, Tommy washed up the dishes. You said your goodnights and headed to your master bedroom, tucked in, and lights off just as Tommy gathered his pillows down the hall in the guest bedroom.
He sighs, laying on his belly and inhaling the fresh linen before closing his eyes.
Not more than a few moments pass before he hears some sniffles down the hall. Then again, a cough and whine.
He sits up and heads down to your room, the door cracked and dark. he flips the light switch on to see you sitting upright in your bed, rubbing your eyes.
"You okay?" he asks softly.
"M'good!" you give him two thumbs up. "Night!"
He nods and flips the switch off again, turning away. he doesn't make it two steps before he hears your unmistakable crying.
He turns the lights back on to see you wiping fat tears from your cheeks, sobbing into your shirt--Joel's shirt.
"Hey...what's wrong? Are you okay? ya in pain? What can I--"
You pull your face up, lips trembling and all tear soaken. He sees your clutching one of Joel's jackets in your hands, wrapped tightly like you don't want it to leave you. A completely emotional mess as you huff and puff.
He puts the pieces together. "Ya miss Joel, don't you--"
"I MISS HIMMMMMM!!!!!!!!" you wail, erupting into a long cry into the air with slunked shoulders and larger tears strolling down from the creases of your closed eyes.
He tightens his lips awkwardly, not wanting to let out a chuckles. Turns out big scary pregnant "later fucker" wife really did love that dumbass. Its also probably the first time he sees bags under your eyes, like you were hiding your exhaustion. When Joel is around, you almost never looked tired. Just pouty and groutchy like a spoiled senior cat.
Maybe Joel wasnt the problem, but the solution. He knew how to take care of you, knew what you needed when you needed it, knew when to put his foot down, and even when hed watch you two bicker and bitch, joel knew exactly how to get you in bed wrapped around him like gumby. Every. Single. Night.
He rubs your arm soothingly.
"Why"-hiccup--"did he"--sniffle--"leave me!"
"He aint leave ya, just had some work."
"HE HATES ME!!!!!!!!!"
He shakes his head, knowing you're inconsolable. rather than trying to reason, he brings you to his shoulder so you can cry your heart out on him as he hugs you. "There there," he hums, swaying you two side to side.
like a crying toddler indeed.
"M'sorry," you whimper, rubbing your eyes with your balled fists. "Wakin' you up, me crying like this. I can't--I can't help it some times..." your voice waivers, face warm in embarrassment that you're burdening Tommy so much.
"Don't sweat it. You did a lot today. Can I get you anything to cheer you up?" he suggests, expecting a trip down to the freezer for a nice tub of Ben and Jerry's Ice Cr--
"Can you get the jar of pickles?"
That...is fine too.
He brings up the largest jar of dill pickles he's ever seen in his life, sets them in your lap. He pops open the sturdy lid for your eager fingers to pull a long dill out and slink it into your lips. the satisfying crunch echoes in the room as you munch.
You start crying again. "I Fucking HATE Pickles!" you groan angrily before taking another generous crunch with a confusingly delightful hum. "Like--I hate it, but they're good?"
He chuckles, taking a piece. He pauses, eying you fearfully as if he made a wrong move not asking your permissions to take one of your hated yet coveted pickles. You nod, and the two of you crunch down on the peculiar snack.
"It's probably from the baby..."
"Fuckin' weirdo." you pat the rounded hump of your tummy and swallow the rest of your slice. Though, the way you stroke along the skin so delicately with a little smirk, he knows you're already in love with your "fuckin weirdo" baby more than anyone could love anything in this world.
Tommy never really thought about the word "uncle" until this moment, and the first emotion he has to associate it with, is excitement.
"Mkay. I'm done now." You hold the jar out to him so he can close it. "Thank you, Tommy," you say sweetly with the gentlest, sleepiest smile. "I really appreciate it."
THIS IS THE ANGEL JOEL HAS THE NERVES TO COMPLAIN ABOUT????
He swears, if Joel comes back and calls him up later saying how insufferable you are, he may just have to size up and smack his big brother.
Tommy pats your head, tucks you in again and turns of the lights.
-
The next day you make Tommy take you to breakfast and get him as many pancakes and French toast he can stuff his face with. A spoiled little brother indeed, and as he swallows another lump of the best breakfast eggs he's ever had, he wonders how sweet life would have been with a big sister like you spoiling him every day instead of Joel making him do chores and shit.
Its not until Joel is meeting the two of you at a lunch spot that Tommy remembers exactly what Joel always groans about.
"Hi baby!" He grins, rushing to give you a big hug for the first time in two days.
And despite your crying for him last night, you only retort with "sup fucker" casually and near bored, as if you weren't sniffing his jacket and Wagging your imaginary tail in disguise.
Joel purses his lips sarcastically, knowing you mean well, and Tommy laughs. You two definitely understood each other way better than he thought.
"Im gonna wash my hands, you two get a table," Joel says, and disappears down the back entrance.
Your waitress greets you just as Tommy is helping you slide down into the booth, big baby belly and all.
"Just three waters, please,"
"And a pepsi! Lots of ice. Two pepsis actually. And bread. And maybe like uh milkshake to start off?--"
The waitress glances at Tommy with a raised brow, wondering if you're genuine or not. He shrugs and nods, noting "she's pretty far along if ya can tell."
"My older sister was the same way. I'll get that in. You two...sorry I shouldn't say it but you two make a cute couple--" she says kindly.
Unfortunately, its exactly at the same Joel returns and hears that last bit, directed towards you and Tommy.
She walks away just as you catch Joels bewildered expression, conveniently with Tommy's hand on your bump and another around your lower back (supporting you into the booth of course but JOEL doesn't see it that way with this new context).
You and Tommy open your mouths to dismiss the claim and misunderstanding, but ever defensive Joel just shoves Tommy aside, slides into your booth next to you and slams your hand into his lap, his bear paws enclosed around yours. Tommy quietly slides into the opposite end, met with Joels flaring nostrils and billowing steam coming out of them.
The younger Miller realizes that slapping some sense into Joel and "sizing him up" was a total pipe dream. He'd be lucky to live long enough to an uncle at this point.
You gotta defend your poor brother in law. "The waitress just saw--"
"Cute couple, huh," he seethe with gritted teeth his entire seething focus at Tommy rather than paying any mind to you.
"Joel stop, Tommy was REALLY great to me this weekend--"
"Oh I BET he was," he grunts, turning towards you with a scowl. "S'that why he got new shoes on?" Joel damn well knows Tommy didn't just pony up and buy new shit for himself this weekend, given he refuses to buy himself anything new for years past it's expiration.
Tommy knows he's never allowed to baby sit you alone again at this rate.
"She was crying last night saying how much she missed ya," Tommy blurts.
You kick his shin under the table, not wanting to let Joel know what a pathetic groveling mess--
"Wait really!?" he nuzzles closer to your, as if all the anger in his body dissipated at the notion his poor little wife was calling out for her hubby.
Tommy chuckles and nods. "We shared some pickles in bed, ain't that right?"
You slap your face just as Joel rears his once again flaring red face towards Tommy. "You did WHAT in WHERE????"
- - - -
@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop @himboelover @callsignwidow @wintersquirrel @fluffygoffpanda @picketniffler @bbyanarchist
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Hiii! How would slashers react if their usually soft s/o ask them to kill someone for whatever reason?
OOOOHH I LOVE this idea!! give me a sec to whip something up!! (Post production edit: I'm so sorry it took so long! I had a long spell of creative rut!)
VARIOUS SLASHERS WITH SOFT S/O ASKING THEIR PARTNER TO KILL SOMEONE FOR THEM!
Includes: Jason, Micheal, Vincent Sinclair, Lester Sinclair, Bo Sinclair, bubba Sawyer, Thomas Hewitt, Charles Lee Ray, Freddy Krueger
AS ALWAYS MDNI! I AM AN 18+ PAGE! THANK YOU!
Jason Voorhees:
Jason was confused to say the least- you WANTED him to kill someone? What did that bastard do?
When you first come to Jason, your usually cheerful face set in grim determination, and almost resignation- he feared the worst, that you wanted to leave him.
But when you uttered the question, when you asked him to kill someone- his already dead heart felt like it may break again- what did they do? Why did you feel the need for him to kill them?
Does he need to make them suffer? How badly did they hurt you?
It may be overwhelming how many questions he asks (signs) you.
Of course in the end he will of course kill the person- if for nothing else than because he cares for you and your mental health.
He will set you up all cozy before he leaves to do the deed, leaving you with blankets and movies and hot cocoa.
Michael Myers:
No questions asked- he is out the door.
dont even expect to be able to explain WHY you want this guy/girl dead- he will already be grabbing his weapon and heading for the door.
Of course he will make it especially painful- they hurt his S/O after all.
But once its done, he'll slink home, wrapping his arms around you from behind and burying his face in your neck, still bloodied from the asshat who DARED make you upset.
And of course he would cuddle you close, silently holding you and stroking your tummy, low growls are expected if you try to get up at all.
he probably will keep you home for the next few weeks- for your 'protection'
and he does mean it!!!
he wants you safe!!
Even in his own fucked up way <3
Vincent Sinclair:
Vincent will pause- eyes scanning you- thinking perhaps it was a joke
you HAD to be joking right?
but when he realized you weren't his stomach turned-
what the hell had this bastard done? clearly he didn't DESERVE to be immortalized- so of course Vincent wouldn't use him at all in his art
rather making Lester 'dispose' of the body quietly
he would make it painful- violent; much more than usual
Once the deed is done he will coddle you, showing you little sculptures, or if you are interested in art- draw and paint with you, his watchful gaze never leaving you- you were his messiah, his god/dess you were his everything-
he would make sure you were safe.
even though he would usually leave this to his brother, it's personal now
Lester Sinclair
Now Lester, he's taken off gaurd by this request, you his sweet lil angel cakes are asking him to off someone?
But of course he won't tell you no.
He will make sure to get his Bowie knife all ready to 'take ojt the trash'
He will ask how painful it should to be
If your crying when you ask, even more reason for him to make that bastard suffer worse than they made you suffer.
Bo Sinclair
Bo doesn't ask anymore questions.
All he needs to know is when where and who.
Of course he will make it painful
And of course he will make the fucker suffer, maybe he will even remove a few fingers to torture them.
He wants his partner happy, so hearing you ask him to kill someone sent him off the fucking rails.
Bubba Sawyer
Bubba sees red
Why would you of all people want someone dead?
Unless they hurt you real bad.
That makes him really angry
He doesn't like the idea of you being hurt, let alone someone else hurting you so bad you don't want them alive anymore.
It will be painful
And slow
He knows how to kill fast, so it stands to reason if he doesn't hit vital points he can make them suffer longer
Thomas Hewitt
Tommy sees red, very similar to bubba
Except he will put on a full on manhunt for the fucker
Using more phycological methods first, stalking them like prey
Before snatching them up and ending them brutally
Charles Lee ray
An excuse to kill some sad mother fucker? Gladly.
But when he sees the tears in your eyes, the way you are shaking, it's personal.
It isn't any longer something to waste time.
This fucker hurt his partner.
This bastard dated touch what was his.
Honestly he will probably fillet the fucker
Freddy Krueger
He won't make it easy.
He will torment the bastard for weeks in their dreams before finally striking.
And of course he won't let you forget that you asked him to kill someone
Of course he is worried, he doesn't fully grasp what the sudden change was about, but he doesn't mind killing for you.
#slasher fucker#slasher boyfriend#slasher x reader#slasher hcs#slasher headcanons#vincent sinclair x reader#lester sinclair x reader#lester sinclair#vincent sinclair#bo sinclair x reader#bo sinclair#micheal myers x reader#micheal myers#jason vorhees#jason vorhees x reader#bubba sawyer#bubba sawyer x reader#thomas hewitt#thomas hewitt x reader#charles lee ray#human chucky#charles lee ray x reader#freddy kruger x reader#freddy krueger#18+ mdni#mdni blog
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Off Day
ʚ pairing: Kate Martin x Roommate!reader
ʚ word count: 2.6k words
ʚ warnings: RPF!! angst, creepy!stalker-ish!classmate, harassment, some fluff at the end
ʚ ri speaks: okay so i literally just dropped part one and the masterlist and right after i literally wrote this part! i literally pulled this series out of my ass last night…pardon my french. so i finished the masterlist and first part last night and so far, the feedback im getting is really good so…yay!☺️ anyways, this part is a little dark? but trustttt it will be resolved soon.
Part 2
| Series Masterlist |
You desperately wanted to crawl back into bed, get back under the cool covers, and just lie there until the world ended. Or until Kate got home. Either way, you wanted to be anywhere but class.
Something about today was so off. You woke up and did your routine like any normal day. Kate left earlier than you but came back right before you left. You left her breakfast or lunch, whatever she decided to classify it as on the counter, and said you'd see her later at practice. That was 3 hours ago.
But today you had an exam in your anatomy class. This class was easy but you just did not want to be there because of Nick. Ever since a couple of days ago when you told Kate what went down between him and Gabbie, he's been relentless in getting the details of "your and Kate's relationship." You didn't want to tell him it wasn't Kate because you'd rather have to pretend to date her than anyone in California. Especially the girls you knew.
Something about Nick was off so you weren't going to pick a random girl in your following on Instagram. Knowing him, he'd probably stalk the poor woman. You just wanted to skip this class altogether. You hoped this line in the coffee shop on campus would move faster to possibly find a seat where other people could fill in around you before he could.
"Hey!" You turned your head, pulled one airpod out of your ear, and smiled at the brunette next to you. Her name was Juliana and you had class with her in like ten minutes.
"Oh, my god, hi!" You put the AirPod back in its case, abandoning the tranquility for the rest of whatever conversation was going to ensue.
"Not to be nosy or get in your business, and I really don't want to make you uncomfortable, but that guy over there keeps staring at you." She pointed her finger, subtly, in the direction behind her. You got to be fucken kidding…Nick. "He's been saying things to people in anatomy, saying you guys are talking, and how he doesn't like how you're too close to Kate. Or something like that, it's all unclear. But I found it weird and thought you should know." Her face looked genuinely concerned. Her eyes went soft as she looked at your expression change from friendly to somewhat terrified.
"Oh, my god. Thanks for telling me. I don't even know him. He's asked me out a couple of times but I rejected him. Who is he telling? Do a lot of people know?" You asked her. Your hands started to get clammy, as you started to move to the pick-up counter, your name being called; your drink ready.
"I honestly have no idea, but if anyone asks just tell them you're in a relationship." Juliana suggested, unsure of how to handle the whole situation.
"Yeah, I thought he'd leave me alone when my friend Gabbie had said I was seeing someone already. He automatically assumed it was my best friend Kate." You really thought this was behind you. This was probably the bad feeling you've been feeling all day.
"Oh, so you're not dating Kate?" Juliana asked, her face lightening up.
"No, but she said she was okay with going along with it to keep him away from me. Why? You like her?" You had no idea she swung that way. She usually talked about boy drama whenever you guys did group work in your class.
"Uh, no. But if she decides to start seeing someone and needs to drop the whole "fake girlfriend" thing, you can definitely ask me. I'm happy to help." She smiled warmly at you. You were very grateful for her willingness to help.
"Oh, okay. Thank you so much!" Her friend then called her over, and you both said goodbye. You had already made it to your class. Juliana keeping you company the whole way. You walked in and took a seat, pulling out your phone. You figured you could text Kate and let her know that if Juliana was willing to help, you'd relieve her of her duties. You also wanted to catch her up on what the hell went down in the coffee shop.
"you will not believe what just happened..."
almost instantly, her response bubble popped up.
"omg, what?"
"a friend in my anatomy class came up to me in better buzz and told me some guy was staring at me"
"what guy? are you okay?"
"and the guy was Nick!"
"oh..."
"apparently he's telling people me and him are talking but doesn't like how me and you are so close"
"wtf. are you serious?"
"did you tell her that me and u were together?"
"ab that...she said she would be down to be my "girlfriend" if I needed it. so I was thinking I would just tell ppl that me n her are together, so that way you're not dragged into this mess lol"
"Oh."
"okay for sure."
"I gtg. I'll see you later at practice!"
"alright, see you later. love you!"
" 'bear <3 loved "alright, see you later. love you!" "
Usually, she said it back. You, Kate, and all the girls got in the habit of saying 'love you' to one another because it was true. You all loved each other so dearly. None of you had shame in how you felt about one another and how close you held each other to your hearts. But you just decided to brush it off, she was probably just super busy.
You honestly had no idea why your mind told you to read into everything she's been saying and texting you, lately. I was seriously getting unhealthy with how much you worried about what she thought about you. You were lost in thought before someone took a seat next to you. Assuming it was Juliana because she was just outside with her friends, you turned to tell her that if she was down to be your "girlfriend." You were pretty startled to see it wasn't her but Nick instead.
"So, how have you been?" He asked. Something about him seemingly so off. You didn't like the feeling you got around him at all. You noticed his gaze following you out of the shop with Juliana ten minutes ago. You looked around the room, the spots in the class filling up quickly. You saw Juliana walk in, but before you could get her attention, Nick moved into your line of sight and prevented anyone from coming between you two.
"Uh, good?" You looked down at your phone trying to find anything to keep you looking as uninterested as possible.
"That's it? Nothing else to say to me?" He seemed to be growing more irritable with the short responses.
"I don't know what you want me to say, I didn't want to talk to you anyway." You looked at him, wishing he'd go away. You didn't want to say it out loud and catch the attention of everyone around you.
"Oh, now that's not nice. That's no way to talk to your boyfriend." He said, a weird smile encroaching on his lips. You did not like this at all. You were genuinely starting to get scared. You pulled up Juliana's number, thankful you asked for it last week so you could send her the notes she missed.
"911. he's starting to really freak me out."
You sent the message and immediately Nick asked who you had been texting. "Can you please, for the love of god, leave me alone? I'm seeing someone." The smirk on his face dropped, a cold stare being directed right at you.
"No, you're not. You're seeing me."
"No, she's not you creep. She's my girlfriend." Juliana then sat on the opposite side of you, staring Nick down. Nick's face flushed, his eyes looking at a few people who had turned around to see what was going on. She placed a hand on your leg.
It wasn't long after your exam and when the class was dismissed that Nick approached you again. He tried to talk to you, you just want to get straight to the Carver stadium. No students that weren't on the team or staff weren't allowed in. You just needed to get there as quickly as possible.
"Hey! Stop ignoring me." Nick semi-shouted at you. You had put both airpods in, trying to tune him out. It wasn't until he tried to grab your arm and pull you back from walking away from him that you turned around ready to blow up before your saving grace came up to both of you.
"Hey, man! Watch the fuck out. I don't know who you think you are but you are not gonna put your hands on my friend like that. Not like that, not now, and not ever." Hannah, with the hand she had placed on his arm to throw it off you, pushed him back a little before putting her arm around your shoulder and walking away from him. "That was fucking weird. You know that guy?" She looked back to see if he was still there, and indeed he was. Watching you both walk in the direction towards the arena.
"No, actually. He's a fucking creep who asked me out a couple of times and took it horribly. He's been harassing me for a little. He was staring at me while I was getting coffee before my class like two hours ago." You said, calming down significantly since Hannah showed up. But your stomach was still uneasy and you really did not want to go to that class tomorrow or ever until he was gone and far away from Iowa City.
"Yeah, don't walk around campus alone anymore. I'll come to find you after every—what class is this?"
"Anatomy."
"Okay, after every one of your anatomy classes, I'll come to find you and we can go to practice together. Do you have friends that know what classes you have and can walk you?" Now that you think about it, Juliana was in a lot of your classes. She wanted to do nursing so most classes you had in the week, were with her.
"Yeah, funny story. The girl that's pretending to be my girlfriend to keep that guy away, which he obviously doesn't give a damn about, is in a lot of my classes. And it works out because the ones she's not in, Kate takes me because they're on her way." You smiled at the tall girl, grateful.
"Okay, good. I don't want you getting stalked and possibly worse because of that guy. You should report him before it gets too bad." Hannah suggested, and rightfully so.
"Yeah, I will. Thanks again, Hannah."
The girls' practice was going well. Until it wasn't.
"Hey, you got a minute?" You were organizing gauze and wraps in the med bag behind the bench before you looked up and saw Kate holding her nose.
"Yes, of course, Kate. Another one?" You looked at the girl as she walked around the bench and you handed her a towel. She broke her nose every year, you and Caitlin swore on it. You grabbed some gauze squares and put them in each nostril, to absorb as much blood as possible before you completely ruined the towel.
"Don't tilt your head back. It could cause clots." You knew she already knew that with how prone Kate was to bloody noses. But it never hurts to refresh her mind, as it is instinct to stop the bleeding.
"Yeah, thanks." You and Kate stood there while the bleeding stopped. "Alright, I think I'm good." She said a small smile on her face. You saw some blood on her shirt, grabbing the small bottle of peroxide in the bag, and a small gauze pad, you tried to soak as much of it out so it was easier for her when she did laundry. Suddenly your phone started buzzing. A new notification every second.
"Jeez, who is blowing up your phone?" Kate asked, as she looked at your screen lighting up and watching the notifications pop up one by one.
"I don't know. Can you check?" You asked as you tried to get the last spot of blood off her clothes.
"It's Instagram. Someone named Nick? Is it that same Nick guy Hannah said harassed the fuck out of you today?" She set your phone down. Your stomach immediately churning. You were honestly getting the creeps.
"Oh my god. She told you?" You asked as you looked into Kate's eyes. Both of yours mirroring each other. The same worried look.
"Yeah, and I'm glad she did. You need to say something. Or I can if you're not comfortable." Kate suggested. Now six more new notifications popped up, all from Nick. "I'll block him for you." She said, picking up your phone but stopping to look at you. Her eyes silently asking if that was okay with you.
"Yeah, please." You sighed as you threw the gauze squares away, putting the peroxide back before watching Kate block Nick. On your main and spam account. You have no idea how he found you; your name isn’t in the usernames. You really should go private and change your message settings. "Alright lemme check your nose though, to make sure it's not broken." There was absolutely no need to do this. You knew it was probably just a simple elbow or ball to the face. You both would've known if it was broken.
"Alright." She sat on the bench, signature manspread. Good lord. You stood between her legs, putting pressure on different parts of her nose, checking for any indication of pain. It was a little tender but that was obvious, and so was you making an excuse to keep Kate a little longer. I mean, could she blame you? You haven't seen her much in the last couple of days. Late practices you missed for studying for your exam, her leaving earlier than you and by the time you get home she's either asleep or visiting her nephew. You missed your best friend.
You could see her looking at you as you checked. Your eyes meet once or twice, small giggles escaping your lips every time. Her eyes dropping to your lips occasionally, watching your tongue poke out a little as you focused on the task at hand. That made her giggle too. "Okay, bear. You're good." You kissed the top of her head and patted her shoulder before she stood up and ran back to the court.
"If I roll my ankle, do I get a cute nickname and a kiss too?" Caitlin shouted as she pretended to throw herself on the ground. You laughed at her antics loudly before nodding your head and yelling yes. You laughed harder as she pretended to limp towards you.
"Yeah, I'm gonna need like ten kisses to make this unbearable pain go away." She fakes winced as she took a seat in the spot Kate was previously in, resting her "injured" foot on the chairs next to her.
"Oh for sure, Cait." You laughed.
Suddenly, Sydney, Kylie, Jada, and Gabbie, hobbled over pretending to be injured to get their kisses too. "You need one too, Coach Bluder?" You shouted after you made your way through half the lineup. You made the assistant coaches laugh, including Coach herself. The practice was better after that, but you just couldn't shake the events from today off.
Maybe another movie night with Kate would fix this. A lot of ice cream must be eaten tonight. Just one night, peaceful, and Nick free.
#kate martin#kate martin x reader#kate martin fanfic#iowa wbb x reader#iowa hawkeyes x reader#iowa hawkeyes#iowawbb x reader#caitlin clark iowa#caitlin clark#hannah stuelke#gabbie marshall#jada gyamfi#sydney affolter#kate martin is so cutie#god i love kate martin#kate martin is indeed my gf#i love kate martin#she is my wife#real#sapphic wlw#wlw fanfic#wlw blog#wlw#rimunagenius writes !#and they were roommates#series
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fascinated and distressed by chase's disordered relationship with sexuality + his emotions abt his own trauma & abuse
thru the beginning of the show he doesn't even realize he's hot despite being objectively attractive. when he finds out he's hot he then realizes people pretend to be interested in him as a person in order to have sex with him and gets super upset about it
he starts having a bunch of meaningless sex as a coping mechanism when cameron leaves him. and also a lot of other times. whenever something bad happens, basically, he starts going out with a bunch of women, just to feel something, presumably
^to the extent where hes known within the hospital as a slut. and has had sex with an insane amount of nurses. as well as presumably women who are not at his place of work.
he says doing this made him hate himself so he stopped. it's the b-plot for an episode and then he's back having meaningless sex again by the end of the episode
even his coworkers know this about him. and have called it out, masters even says she thinks he doesn't respect women bc, in her words, he's with a different one every few days or maybe he finds comfort in meaningless relationships
goes back to having meaningless sex within weeks of getting stabbed. which is really bad for wound healing reasons too. genuinely it seems like such compulsive behavior for him considering he keeps doing it even when its objectively not only a bad idea but actively dangerous
house even directly says he's "a serial slut" because he's "terrified of intimacy." incredibly accurate assessment
his relationship with his sexuality reads so heavily as someone who thinks they're not good for anything else
see also: dissociation & avoidance
we know he has a lot of trauma especially in childhood- he never really gets into it let alone into how he Feels about it but what we know is already bad & that's just the stuff he's okay with sharing with his coworkers or patients
in general he's very avoidant of his own trauma- when he gets stabbed he says he "can't change what happened, can only make better choices from here" as if it was his own fault, and refuses thru the whole episode to acknowledge that being traumatized by this would be a really normal reaction that he is definitely having. instead he just blames himself
also, he dissociates from traumatic things that happen to him - says "there was a stabbing" rather than "i was stabbed" for instance
when he's talking abt his childhood trauma he does it in a very similar way - he talks about it very bluntly and doesn't ever get into how he actually feels about it.
see also: dr. fawn response
general passive willingness to go along with anything- when cameron says they should have sex in s3 he's surprised and then he just kinda goes along with it. not bc he didn't want to bc he obviously did, but he's just generally very much someone who does whatever other people want him to do. i feel like he and cameron both tend to seek validation thru sex in an unhealthy way that i'm still gnawing on like a dog with a bone i have to go rewatch s3 to really articulate it though
he has a sort of desperation for praise and approval especially from anyone he views as an authority figure. he does whatever authority figures tell him out of this idea that it'll bring him approval and therefore safety
like no matter what house does or says to him he doesn't argue or retaliate or anything. even when house punches him he collapses on the ground in pain and then just keeps talking about the patient like nothing happened.
the scene in 3.10 after house punches him where he's in the ddx room and house walks in and throws the file at him and chase is startled and tries to pretend he's not. and he looks up with this huge fuck ass bruise on his jaw swallows heavily and pretends not to be upset. and house asks if he got that looked at as if he wasn't the one to give it to him and chase just swallows and says he's fine. dr fawn response :(
#text#i still have a few episodes left Worried im gonna post this and immediately soemthing else will Happen that is relevant here#avian i stole the phrase 'dr fawn response' from u its really good its been bouncing around my head for several days#chase#robert chase#house md#Implication here being i think he was sexually abused at some point. idk if the Writers intended that#but i'm looking at him with my eyes and thinking about him in my brain and it's very clear to me#house spoilers#analysis
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♡︎ Shinso Hitoshi as your boyfriend ♡︎
Pairing: fem!reader x Shinso Hitoshi
Genre: fluff
Warnings: suggestive content, possessive!Shinso, jealous!Shinso
•° his hair is always in knots, you can't tell me otherwise. he'll never admit it, in fact he'll say that he only does it because it makes you happy, but he loves it when you cuddle him like this: with his head on your lap, while he lets you comb his hair and run your hands through it. There have been many times when he's fallen asleep in this position, and every time you catch him when he tries to get even closer to your body with his face.
•° he's not a fan of PDA, but if you really insist, you can hold each other by the pinky. Just know that if you meet someone you know while you're walking, his hand will immediately leave yours. He's very shy, what can you do?
•° I'm convinced of this when I say it: HE'S POSSESSIVE! maybe even a little too much at times, it could be a red flag, but he thought it was obvious the day you got together, that you are his and no one else's. When he sees that someone is taking things a little too far with you, he doesn't think twice about reaching out to you and making that someone understand who you belong to.
The boy in front of you was clearly hitting on you, you told him several times that you're not interested and that you don't want to have anything to do with him, but no, some boys are just empty-headed.
Luckily for you, you can't say the same for the boy though, you feel the presence of your boyfriend coming from behind. An arm slides around your waist and pulls you back, making you slam into Shinso's chest.
"That's enough." you hear his voice close to your ear: it's low, hoarse and you can feel the annoyance dancing between the words.
his grip on your waist tightens, and you're sure that it will almost certainly leave its mark for the next few minutes. it's a clear sign that he wants to send, but not to you, to the bastard in front of the two of you. he knows that you know that you are his, but the bastard has yet to figure it out.
"Leave, before I'll make you." shivers run down your spine, and judging from the way the boy in front of you swallowed, he felt the same way.
•° At first he was against it, but he can't resist your sweet eyes that implore him, when you beg him to use his quirk in bed. at first he thinks it's unfair to you, but in reality, deep down, it's the excitement that gets the better of him. the idea of being able to have absolute control over you, being able to tell you what to do without you saying anything, the way you're submissive to him...he just can't help it, but to turn himself on. He's always seen his powers as a bad thing, like the powers of a villain, but if we look at it from this point of view, it couldn't have gone better for him.
•° he reminds you that he loves you in the most random moments of the day, as long as it's just the two of you and no one else. You can be doing the most casual things, like cooking something, listening to music together and he will pull you close with a hug, whispering in your ear how much he loves you.
•° he has black humor. on the surface he may seem like the usual guy who never jokes, always serious and shy, but give him time to open up to you and be ready for the jokes you would never expect to come out of his mouth. he has a humor, you just have to get it.
•° he is definitely the type of guy who would rather stay home and watch a movie in peace, rather than go to a party, drink and dance. If instead you are the type who likes to go clubbing, you can be sure that he will be your personal driver both there and back. He will never let you go home alone, with a taxi or an uber or with someone. Just call him and he will already be in the car to pick you up.
•° Pet names. He has a ton of them. Eery day he calls you by a different name, but there's one that he particularly likes, and above all that has a certain effect on you: doll. He just sounds so majestic when he calls you that, it's impossible for your knees not to tremble at that sound.
•° he always compliments you, for everything. You got a good grade in school, you did well in practice, when you look beautiful in a dress. He doesn't care, whatever you do, he'll compliment and praise you.
"Shinso! Look, I got an A on the test!" You show him the test, but in reality he hasn't even had time to look at it, since you immediately jump on him.
His arms immediately meet behind your back and he squeezes you tightly so that he lifts you up and makes you spin in the air.
When he puts you back down, he presses a kiss on your head and with a sweet voice makes your heart melt: "Good girl, I'm so proud of you, doll."
•° in my opinion, Shinso is the kind of boyfriend who would ask (force) you to sit on his lap and do his eyeliner (even better if he asks you to do his waterline too, he'd look so good). Plus he loves seeing your face focused just a few inches away from his, while his hands remain on your lower back. Shinso with makeup>>>
•° when you both became adults, at eighteen, he'll beg you to get a tattoo together. He wants your love to be seen by everyone, what better idea than to tattoo it on your skin. Oh, and don't be surprised if after a few months you see his pale skin covered in black ink. Not long after you'll be running your hands over a body almost full of tattoos.
#hitoshi shinsou#mha shinsou#shinsou x reader#hitoshi x reader#hitoshi shinsou x reader#mha shinso hitoshi#mha x reader
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Dating requests of bunnymund and pitch black (separately) where they’re dating the guardian of love?
A/N: i feel this is utter garbo, but i hope it's still good enough to post 😭😭😭
NOTICE (7/10/24) : NO LONGER WRITING FOR ROTG
Word Count:430 Warnings: none i think
Headcanons E. Aster Bunnymund and Pitch Black with a Guardian of Love! S/O
Bunny:
Bunnymund is fantastic to date!
As the Guardians of Hope and Love, you compliment each other very well. You take care of and respect each other more than anyone else on earth.
He's still tough and agile on the outside but when the two of you are able to get some peace and quiet, he's a gentle giant who just wants to cuddle.
He'd definitely be the one to call you cheesy but sweet nicknames (i.e. lovebug, cutie, muffin and of course, the ever so classic darling.)
He adores you and would do almost anything you asked if it would make you him happy, and the same applies for you.
You would both be fiercely protective of each other too. If either of you has any little inkling that the other maybe in trouble, you're rushing off to find each other.
There are times when he thinks that you may have used your powers on him to make him love you, but when he sees the look of true affection your eyes, he knows what you have together is real.
Bunny would joke that you're his own personal Cupid sent straight from the Man in the Moon and tells you he wouldn't trade you for anything.
Pitch:
Pitch is a rather reserved man. All dark corners and silent contemplation but that changes once you enter the picture.
You bring the perfect amount of color and liveliness into his monotone world.
He doesn't understand how someone could be so different from him yet be the perfect match for him. Pitch loves you more than he thought possible for someone like himself.
And while he's still bitter about his place in the world, he's less so truly angry about it with you by his side.
He will still get mad at the way humans and the other guardians have treated him, but he could never find it in himself to be angry at you.
He really tries to be a better person but if anything bad were to ever happen to you, he'd burn the entire world to the ground to take revenge.
Pitch may not always verbally express it, but its clear that he loves you just by the way he behaves around you.
Around others, he's stiff and stoic but when he's alone with you, his entire demeanor visibly softens and relaxes.
Whenever you're alone, he will secretly relish in any bit of physical affection you might give him. He was so lonely for such a long time but you changed his life simply by being there for him.
#rise of the guardians#rise of the guardians imagine#bunnymund x reader#pitch black x reader#headcanon
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bestfriend!vernon + epilogue
warnings: none!
pairings: vernon x afab reader
genre: best friends to lovers!!!!
wc: 1.8k
check out my masterlist! // hansol's m.list
bestfriend!vernon who you met not randomly or by friends but rather, through your mother. why you ask? because your mom & vernon's mom are best friends, so naturally, their kids have to get to know each other, their kids have to be bestfriends just like themselves. naturally vernon and you just have to get married too so that both your moms can fulfill their life long dream of being sisters, as a family.
bestfriend!vernon who is always being the one who initiates skinship when it comes to you. he finds comfort and peace in the simple things, like hugging you, holding your hands when you're both in a crowded place or when you link your arms with his and you skip happily while walking home.
bestfriend!vernon who stays up all night with you till the sun rises when you get nightmares and can't go back to sleep. he would talk about the most random of things to try to help you get distracted from the nightmare; which he of course succeeded in doing. on nights like this, he always makes sure to tuck you in & that you're deep in sleep. only then will he turn off the night light by your bedside table and proceed to sleep on the couch; making sure not to close the door to your room completely in case you get another nightmare & need him around. he wants to be sure he can hear you & be there for you.
bestfriend!vernon who loves loves loves movies and watching them in the cinemas, he also thinks watching movies alone in the cinema is his own way of spending ‘me’ time with himself; occasionally, you would join vernon on these movie nights in the cinema, other times, you prefer watching movies in the comfort of your own home; be it your bedroom or living room. but what vernon loves more than his solo movie dates with himself is talking about the movie afterwards and discussing them with you. vernon loves that you could also see & understand the art and depth behind those movies. he loves that he doesn't feel alone in that department.
bestfriend!vernon who starts to ask to himself if he should tell you how he feels about you when he overhears someone from your class gushing over you as he walked past their table in the cafeteria to get to you. “are you not having anything for lunch today?” you asked as you watch him set his backpack down on the side of the table with only a juice box in his hands and sits across from you. “I'm not that hungry actually… I had a heavy breakfast. you go ahead, watching you eat will make me full.” he said cheekily. he can't possibly admit to you that hearing someone else gush over you made his stomach twist and made him lose his appetite. “really? but you should still eat something! have a bite of mine!” you raised your spoon to his mouth, “aaahhhh” you said as vernon eyes the spoon in front of him and slowly opens his mouth. he doesn't think he can stomach anything right now at the thought of possibly losing you, but how could he ever say no to you when you plead him to have a bite with your doe eyes? vernon quietly accepts his fate that he will do anything for you, even if its small things like this that you don't know about.
bestfriend!vernon who visits your family in secret on a Friday afternoon when he had no classes. “I was so happy you called, we've only ever spoken on the phone these days, I feel like I haven't seen you in forever!” your mother said as she rushes to pull vernon in for a hug. “where is y/n?” she asks as she pulled away from him. “she's in class right now, she doesn't get off until 430pm today,” vernon answered with ease. “I wanted to surprise her, she told me she missed your cooking so I thought I'd come by to pick up some food you made for her to have for dinner tonight instead of the usual pizza we have on Fridays.” vernon admitted as his hands scratch the back of his head out of shyness. “that's so sweet of you vernon! I'm glad she has you by her side. you guys still keep up with your pizza Friday tradition after all these years?” your mother asks as vernon recalls all the pizza Friday nights the both of you had with both your moms right here in this house where he's now standing alone. vernon then realizes how oddly easy this is, to be in your home with your mother, just the 2 of them, as if it's so natural and how its always supposed to be. like he's a part of your family too, not just a friend. “yeah, we still eat pizzas for dinner every Friday thanks to you & my mom.” vernon answers cheekily.
bestfriend!vernon who was rendered speechless when your mother asked him “so, have you told her?” he didn't need to ask what your mother meant or what she was talking about, he knew exactly what she meant. at the young age of 8 years old, vernon had asked your mother for permission for your hand in marriage; not knowing how difficult and different things and feelings actually are when you're both older. back then, everything was simple to naive vernon, if you like someone, you tell them, you kiss them, you get married & you live happily ever after! at least that's what all the barbie movies he's watched with you has taught him. “do you think your daughter feels the same for me?” he asked hesitantly, afraid of the unknown. “that's something you should ask her, not me my dear,” your mother said as she reached out for his hand in comfort. “but what I do know is that if you never try, you will never know. do you think you can live with that? not knowing? and for how long more do you think you can stay by her side as just her friend?” your mother knows all too well how you really feel about vernon. so does his mom. the two adults are simply just watching their two kids being idiots, wondering when the two of you will finally get together.
epilogue:
vernon's heart feels so full & he smiles so big as he watches you down your mother's food as if you have been starved for days. “god, I really missed this so much. thank you thank you thank you I love you!” you said hurriedly as you leaned forward to kiss vernon on his forehead with your slightly greasy lips, mouth still full of food, not that vernon minded one bit. “you're the best.” you said as you sat back down to devour the food in front of you. “are you happy? are you enjoying yourself?” vernon asked as he took a sip of his apple juice, still with a big smile painted on his lips. “I'm so so happy, thank you vernon.” there your doe eyes go again, vernon feels his heart swelling up at the sight of you.
“y/n.” he said as he tried to calm his beating heart. you looked up at him in acknowledgement without verbally answering. “can I ask you something?” he asked as he picked up a tissue to wipe the side of your mouth, his face turning serious. “what is it?” you asked as you gulp down your juice. “hmm.. how do you feel about me?” your body involuntarily starts giving you hiccups as soon as your brain starts processing vernon's question. “what..what do you mean?” you asked through your hiccups. “no I mean, I just, I like you..I don't know- no no I mean I know I like you, I like you a lot no I mean I love you I just-” vernon stopped himself when he feels like mind had gone haywire, he doesn't know how to do this.
“okay..? I love you too but-”
“no not like that. I love you as in…I want to hold your hand and i-”
“but you already do hold my hand…well sometimes.” you say as your words deflate.
“exactly. just sometimes. because I don't want to bother you too much with it I don't know if it irritates you or bothers you or if you're just holding my hand because I'm holding your hand and you feel like you have to.” vernon picks up the courage to look at you, trying to read your face but for the first time in his life, he can't for the life of him figure out how you're feeling right now or what you could possibly be thinking about.
“vernon what are you trying to say exactly?” you asked after what feels like an eternity of silence.
“what I'm trying to say is…is that I want to hold your hand all the time, not just sometimes. I want to kiss you too, not just on your forehead, but also on your cheeks and maybe..on your lips too if you'd let me….okay that didn't come out the way I wanted it to but I mean I just…” vernon paused to take a deep breath before he continued, “what im trying to say is that, i love you. i'm in love with you and I want to be with you and maybe... we could end up like they do in those barbie movies we watched when we were younger. well…that is…if you like me too…?” vernon asked cautiously.
you let out a laugh that comes out sounding more like a giggle, “like you too? if i like you too? vernon, i don't know how the hell you haven't figured out how in love I am with you all these years.” only then does vernon’s body physically relaxes and lets out a sigh of relief. “does this mean you'll let me hold your hand through the entire movie later?” vernon asks as he reaches to hold your hand in his. “I'll let you hold my hand forever if you want, only if you'll let me do the same.”
vernon doesn't think he could be any happier, or that you could be even more adorable than you already are, but he was proven wrong later that night when you fall asleep with your head on his lap drooling a little while your hand was still holding onto his tightly even in your sleep. vernon takes a picture and sends it to your mother along with the message “i told her today 🙂” his phone vibrates in his free hand with a text back from your mother reading “I always knew this day would come!”
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