#esp with the baby coming soon-

[static-x3]

*gives cat*

-🍓

[Static looks at the cat and back to Morgan starrey eyed]

"can we-?"

"no, I'm sorry, we don't have enough room to take care of another animal- we already have Shango and theyre still pissy youre not home enough. No cat, Stat."

[sadge static noises]

[everythingsinred]

ill just never get over this panel or how its the first time we see natsume visibly upset and sad from his own perspective (something we dont really see much of because of the way his character works), especially because the plant disintegrating in front of him is representing much more than a plant and he can never ever have anything good in his life without fearing it would be harmed in some way to discipline him.

[trash-iest]

Another year closer to 25 🤡

[satellitesunset]

myle.txt

[strawberriandromeda]

Sent my bf a vid abt my pet hamster and he hasnt responded chat should i kill myself

[pepperyduck]

pins & needles

summary: how various jjk men react to ur new/unnoticed piercings! incl. nanami, gojo, geto, choso

warnings: veryyyyyyy suggestive (esp in nanami's), (new) piercings, geto's & nanami's is a new relationship type thing. excuse any typos pls😞. 18+ mdni!

a/n: i got like 3 new piercings over the weekend, this is just self indulgent and cute methinks. also tyyy for 700 :3, i'm trying so hard to get over the writer's block. love u all!

choso + smiley piercing!

"i've never been happier to see you," choso groans as soon as he enters your dorm, kicking off his shoes at the door. though his voice is monotone, you can infer he's tired, worn out from a day's work and fighting curses.

"rough day?" you scoot over in bed to allow room for your boyfriend, smoothing out the sheets and flipping your blanket up.

"very." the singular word is the only response choso gives before beginning to strip his uniform right in front of you. as you're watching intently, choso gets almost completely naked before grabbing some clothes he'd left over; a pair of baggy pants and an "i heart my girlfriend" shirt that you gifted him, and lazily putting them on.

"i did something today, cho," you inform him, and choso’s attention immediately snaps to you, eyes showing that he was obviously wondering.

"what’d you do?"

you give him a bright smile, all the teeth in your mouth shown to him, the shiny ring glistening atop your pretty gums. choso’s brows furrow together, his pupils coming to realize there was something new in your mouth, something different about your smile.

"what’s…that?" he asks, stepping closer and closer and eventually sitting on the bed with you. you giggle at his curious looking, his eyebrows still knitted together in an inquisitive way.

"a piercing, silly," you inform him, carefully flipping up your top lip to show where the jewelry went through the frenulum of your inner lip.

"does it hurt?" choso leans in even more, straightening his eyes with the freshly pierced hole in your mouth.

"not really, just a little bit," you tell him, letting go of your lip and pressing a quick peck to choso’s lips. it catches him off-guard, choso’s face lights up red because he thought he couldn’t kiss you. smiling triumphantly, you pull away from your boyfriend.

"it—um—it looks really pretty on you." choso compliments, "can i kiss you again? please?" and he’s so sincere and sweet, always asking permission for everything. so endearing, really, even with his deep, dark voice.

needless to say, when he kisses you again, choso is making sure to flick the jewelry all around with his tongue, faintly enough to not hurt the new wound. and it becomes a habit from thereon.

gojo + bellybutton piercing!

"i missed you so much, baby."

satoru is on top of you, arms caging you in while you lay underneath him, smiling and feebly grasping the biggest part of his bicep. it had been over a month since you'd seen your husband, he'd been away on a business trip for far too long.

"did you miss me?" his words are drawn out and dramatic, like always, like he was teasing you—but he was practically always teasing you.

"yes, satoru," you blankly reply, "i missed you."

just before you can roll your eyes, gojo's kissing you, a bit enthusiastically, but you quickly melt into his touch. as annoying as he could be, you loved him, you missed him. you had longed for him the moment he left—that was a fact you couldn’t deny.

as quickly as he meets your lips, satoru leaves, disconnecting himself to trail down your torso that was draped in a way-too-expensive t-shirt of his. but the one thing that doesn't leave you is his eyes, he keeps an intense stare on your face as he moves lower and lower towards your waistline. his fingertips dance along your sides before pinching the fabric of the bottom of the shirt and slowly lifting it up.

his eyes are no longer able to stay on yours when he catches a glimpse of the sparkly blue rhinestones on each ball of the jewelry stuck through your navel. of course, you chose the shade that best matched satoru's eye color.

"no way!" satoru exclaims, beaming with a new-found excitement for the little hole in your tummy, "you actually did it?"

"yes, satoru," you repeat, threading your fingers through the white tufts of your husband's hair.

gojo's nimble fingers come to play with the jewelry—the size comparison comedic from how large his hands are. he studies the now fully healed wound, moving the jewelry all around and practically forgetting the previous heated mood.

"do you like it?" you somewhat nervously ask, intimidated by the tedious investigation of your bellybutton.

"yes, duh," satoru dramatically quips, "you think i should get one next?"

nanami + nipple piercing!

kento had tried so hard to ignore it.

you didn't mean to distract him, really. it was a simple mishap at first, not wearing a bra when kento came over. but after the first time, he didn't seem to mind, he was gentlemanly enough. his eyes stayed averted—when you were looking at him, at least—so you took it as a green flag to remain braless when he was at your house without worry.

but nanami's only a man.

so here you are, after work, after your boyfriend had come over, ranting to him in your kitchen about your boss and whatever bullshit you had to put up with that day. but your words land upon deaf ears, noise drowned out by the sight of the little hearts poking out from the shirt you're wearing. he's sat at your dining table, legs lazily spread as he half-listens to you.

"—like, what?! what else am i supposed to do in that situation?"

for the first time in your venting session, you lock eyes with kento, noticing how they flash up quickly from...your chest.

"ken?"

"um—yes?" he chokes, a little too obviously for him to not be embarrassed over.

a smug smile rests over your face, nanami was caught red handed, ogling at your boobs and the cute heart-shaped jewelry that adorned them.

"what'cha staring at?" trailing closer to him with a teasing tone in your voice, you're killing him, embarrassing the poor man as the seconds roll on. kento doesn't reply either, only a raspy breath leaving his lungs as his response. his face heats up and his expression drops, shamelessly glancing down at your chest once more—one, two—counting the peaks of your nipples through the shirt.

"i'm sorry," he finally chokes out, unable to keep his eyes from flashing up and down, to your eyes then to your chest, again and again.

without any words, you slot yourself between nanami's legs, inching your chest closer to his face. it was so funny how easily his stoic persona disintegrated under your presence. he'd never been this close to your chest—to you. and it's intoxicating to him, he's ashamed how he loses himself by simply being eye level with your boobs.

but that guilt quickly washes away when you take his hand and place it perfectly to cup your tit—index finger and thumb resting right around the pretty jewelry under your shirt.

tdlr; that's the first night your boyfriend stays over at your place.

geto + clavicle piercing!

"you look lovely tonight."

smooth as ever, geto compliments you, his voice dripping with a sweet nectar. your insides warm up despite the harsh cold outside, the thick coat draped over your frame doing little to combat the weather.

"thank you," you whisper and smile at him, stepping into the door of the fancy restaurant suguru had chosen for your date. third date, to be exact.

once you're at your table, suguru helps you shimmy the bulky jacket off your shoulders, revealing the tasteful, deep-cut top you had chosen for your date—along with the two studs on each side of your collarbone that your clothing showed off rather perfectly.

it takes suguru a few moments to notice once he sits down. he tries to strike up conversation, relying on the simple questions and responses he can utter without getting too distracted. however, within a few minutes, geto is cracking, eyes every so often flickering down to the gems that aligned your clavicle so prettily. he can't help it, because with every slight movement you make, the jewelry sparkles in the dim light of the restaurant—it's hard to ignore.

"are you okay?" you interrupt your previous dialogue when you take note of geto's increasingly hazy replies, and how he seems a bit spaced out.

"yeah," suguru swallows deeply, "i really like your—um," his pointer finger vaguely motions to his own collarbone, and you have to look down at your chest before you realize what he’s talking about.

his mouth is dry. he’d already thought you were, like, the sexiest woman on earth, but this, oh this, was just too much. geto was unsure as to why he found the piercings so distracting, so hot, but nonetheless enjoyed the view he had.

"oh, thank you!" you giggle, smiling brightly and ghosting your fingers over the piercings—you’d honestly forgotten that this would be the first time he’s seen this much of your body, and the piercings ended up being the perfect touch to make suguru lose his mind.

and he can't wait until he's able to feel on 'em, too.

[tortureddarkstar]

✩ IN BLOOM

AND HE LIKES TO SING ALONG / / AND HE LIKES TO SHOOT HIS GUN

DEAN WINCHESTER X F!READER

18+ CONTENT. MINORS DNI.

summary: dean teaches you how to shoot a gun. amongst other things.

inspired by: in bloom- nirvana

this was a very much ‘fine i’ll do it myself’ kinda feat. not enough dean fics out there esp since its spn season. this is also my tumblr debut x

lots of smut, not a lot of plot. hope u like x

“hey, focus.”

your attention snapped back to the ‘x’ dean had etched into a tree.

dean had his arms around you, thick hands encompassing yours which aimed his white colt at dean’s makeshift target.

“hm? oh, sorry.” you blinked your eyes a few times, drawing in on the target.

“no. not ‘sorry’. focus.” he grunted in your ear. “sure thing you can use a knife, sweetheart, but what happens when you’re too far? y’gonna throw your knife at a ghost?”

“well that’s why i have you and sammy.” you shrugged, to which earned you a jab in the back from dean.

“keep your back straight.” dean rumbled, eyes rolling at your overt smartness.

“ow.”

“yeah, you’re gonna feel an ‘ow’ when you’ve got claws down your body. back straight, eyes on the target.” you took note of how his father’s drill training peeked through his orders to you, even after all these years.

you huffed, fixing your posture and lining up dean’s colt.

there was something twisted about such a pure, little thing using dean’s favoured weapon.

not only had he used it on countless demons, ghosts, werewolves- heck people too. but you remembered the first time time he had used it on you.

on a hunt, not too long ago, he caught you staring a little too mindlessly towards him.

well, not towards him. more so the colt.

and when you had told him later that night that you wanted him to use it on you, he seemed, at the time, a little taken aback, hesitant even.

however, you watched, writhing under him, as that hesitance turned into malevolence and instead of giving himself to you that night, he gave you only his gun.

“come on baby, work for it.” dean coaxed, admiring your contorted face and your wanton whimpers.

“you gonna shoot that anytime soon?”

fuck, now you were wet.

“sorry, m’just distracted.” you mumbled, furrowing your brows, determined to actually shoot now. “focusing now.”

dean was still behind you, heavy grip on your elbows, heavy breath in your ears.

yeah we’ll see about focusing.

dean had no intention to distract you by any means, in fact it was his idea for you to learn how to use a gun- “sam and i aren’t always gonna be there. and i don’t plan on you leaving anytime soon either.”

but you were taking way too long trying to shoot a target less than six feet from you, and dean never has any objections to a bit of fun.

he watched as your index finger finally began to apply pressure over the trigger. his mind calculating when exactly to introduce some fun into this little training session.

dean slowly took his hands off yours, letting it snake down to rest on your waist.

“dean, what are you doing?” your voice had already begun to shake, the weight of the colt feeling heavier as your palms started sweating.

“nothin’. focus.” dean dismissed, his hand traversing down, down, until he found the buttons on your jeans, toying with them until he hit the band of your panties.

“dean.” there was no way you were concentrating at all on that tree anymore.

“let’s play a little game, huh? the closer you are to the target, the closer i get to where you really want me.” his fingers slipped under the waistband of your underwear. “that sound fair, sweets?”

instead of answering, you pulled the trigger, the bullet burning a hole in the tree 20 centimetres above from where you wanted it to go.

“that a yes, huh?” he grunted in your ear “but, i said the target, baby.”

“dean.. please.” you huffed out, eyes rolling as your head fell back onto his shoulder, the gun almost slipping out of your hands.

“monsters are more distracting. shoot. right in the middle, i know you can do it baby, come on.” dean’s voice was gruff in your ear, sending an entire wave of shivers down your spine.

you glanced down as his hand crept closer to where you craved him, edging around your clit, but never touching it.

inhaling, you straightened your back, shook away the shivers, and regained your grip on his colt.

“that’s a girl.” dean whispered, nipping your earlobe before granting you a sickly sweet kiss, stark in contrast to the current situation. he felt you whimper into the kiss before pulling away, not yet granting you any such reward.

this time you tried not to think as hard. yes thinking too hard would send you over the edge, resulting in a punishment from dean, but you also tried to rationalise- you wouldn’t be thinking too much if you were being chased by a demon, right?

the second shot was much better and much closer, not smack in the middle like he wanted but close enough for dean to finally reward you with attention to your aching clit.

“come on baby, third times the charm.” now dean was moving his right hand from your right elbow, allowing it to slip under your shirt and rest upon your left tit.

“s’too much, dean. please.” he could tell from the whiny tone of your voice that you had begun to tear up.

oh, he’d give you something to cry about.

without warning, he stuck his middle finger into you, letting the heel of his palm push against your core.

“see how nice i am? hmm?” he grunted, digging his finger and palm into you. “now, you make that shot and i’ll give you what you want. if not, all you’ll have tonight is that there colt.”

now that drew a moan out of you.

“we’ve a deal, pretty girl?” dean nosed at the side of your face, grinning slightly at your torment.

nothing but a pathetic hum, bordering a grumble, came out.

a mumble of ‘good girl’ came out of his mouth and into your hair as he resumed his movements inside.

just like the previous two times, you repeated your actions. straight back, tight grip. and just like the last time, you tried your damndest to clear your mind. even though it was harder now with his finger in you, moving with more fervour and more dexterity.

you bit your lip in both concentration and suppression of a throaty moan. your finger, once again, gripped the trigger as you pressed down, your eyes following the bullet as it hit the target.

smack. in. the. middle.

you began smiling but your celebration was cut short by dean finally moving as fast as you wanted, adding another finger, just as you wanted and finally, turning you around so he could kiss you. just as you wanted. finally making you cum, just as you wanted.

“atta girl. knew you could do it. baby just needed a bit of encouragement, huh?” dean goaded. through your concentration and your post-orgasmic haze, you hadn’t noticed that dean had taken himself out of his confines, allowing you to feel just how hard he was.

with as much might your jelly-legs could muster, you jumped onto him, caging him as you pushed him backwards on the hood of his impala parked conveniently behind you.

“you want this, baby? want me to fuck you on my car?” he tugged your head back by your hair to watch your reply- jaw slack with a hastened nod and moan. “dirty girl.”

you let his mouth envelop yours before he spun you both around, setting your back onto the car. from here, you could see just how desperate you were for him, a collection of your juices had darkened his boxers, a little on his open fly, catching the light of the cloudy sun.

you carried on staring, eyes glazing over as he lined himself up with your entrance, that beautiful sting electrifying as he settled deep into you.

“dean.” you whined. your hands had moved from holding his midsection to cradling his face as your nails dug into his neck, bringing him into a kiss that was purely teeth and tongue, encouragement for him to keep moving.

a few, albeit long, minutes pass of dean rocking in and out, in and out of you with the occasional kiss or tug at each others hair, all the while your moans of his name and other incoherencies fill the air of the murky woodland dean had sought out for your ‘lesson’.

oh what a lesson this was.

dean found himself moving faster now, his hands and hips most likely bruising you. he would be lying if he said that’s not what he wanted. swallowing one of your breathy moans once again, his thumb moved to your clit, bringing you to the edge right next to him.

the twittering of crows were now drowned out by mumbles of ‘dean’, ‘so good’ and other mismatched phrases, stark in contrast to your usual eloquence.

“come on baby, cum with me. come on.” dean goaded, his thrusts getting harsher as his words got more strained.

obedient as always, you took the thumb of the hand cradling your head into your mouth, sucking, licking, biting on it as your brow-bone tilted up- both signs of your ever-approaching orgasm.

soon enough, ramblings of heated compliments were overtook by the increasing pitch and tone of moans, the last articulate sentence being dean’s- a simple warning of his seed spilling into you falling from his pout lips, enough to push you over the edge you’d been teetering on for the past ten minutes.

ever eager to please, you let go.

spasm after spasm washed over you as dean watched from above, cheshire cat-smile across his face as he watched yours contort when he pulled out to stand and admire his handiwork.

he waited and watched as you sat up on the impala, leaning on your hands. dean revelled in the way your hair tangled, your tits spilling from the tank you wore, matching the dark-wash jeans that had bunched up around your knees.

you were in bloom. and oh how he basked in it.

[ravengards-rogue]

WHAT SET YOU FREE, BROUGHT YOU TO ME BABY.

rdr2 men + short blurbs about their favorite sex positions.

ft. arthur morgan, john marston, javier escuella, and charles smith.

✧ tags : SPOILER HEAVY, fem + afab!reader, unprotected sex, light angst (in the horny post is crazy im sorry fdkjjkds), very gendered language, javier says one thing in spanish (thank u @nanamimizz), a little sprinkle of plot with each (and some canon divergency), john co-parents w abigail, otherwise just horny. 18+

✧ wc : about 1.4-8k each (6.3k total)

✧ a/n : sorry for making a multi character post for the cowboy game its cooking me to death. my john bias is showing rip. title is from rebel yell by billy idol but i listen to the bvb cover

sorry about charles and javiers but if i edit this anymore im going to level an entire city using hollow purple technique. please rb if you enjoyed i worked kind of hard on whatever this is.

sorry for . the THIRD repost of this i promise i wont after this. its just really bugging me. PLEASE

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆ ARTHUR MORGAN + PRONE BONE ; 

It’s an odd feelin’ for Arthur. 

Wanting something, he means. Wanting anything as much as he wants you. He’s lived a less than quiet life up until now. And he ain’t the brightest, certainly, but living this kind of life teaches you many lessons. One of them being, it’s better not to covet anything. Coveting something you’re not entitled to, well—it’ll lead you places you wouldn’t want to go with a gun. 

Arthur has made the mistake of coveting love before, dreamed of a future so completely out of his reach he almost convinced himself it was possible. Dreamed of it so foolishly he’d even go visit a woman he very well ought to forget. It’s his problem, his burden to bear - always desiring outcomes unsuited to him. 

He’s just that sort of man he reckons. But he learned his lesson. He tries (tried?) to stay away from it after that. Tried not to pine too much for normalcy when such hopes had failed him twice. The loss of his child completely on his account and the loss of his love at the same fate. 

So, wanting you - well, he feels like the world's dullest fool. Really. How is it that Arthur had fallen in love with someone again? It had all just happened so quickly. You were another woman he’d saved from the O’Driscolls, though it wasn’t like you were no damsel. A lot of those men were dead by the time they arrived. That sort of perseverance would stick with you while you traveled together. Much like Sadie, you didn’t take well to housework - you liked to earn your keep. Though you’re not nearly so trigger happy. 

You’re quiet, thoughtful, well-read. Plus you’re good at making money. That’s why Dutch don't complain about you joining them, he figures. 

(Arthur tries not to pry into it too much at first, but he eventually learns that you’re gambling. Which is how you’re able to make such a fast turn around. A prim little lady like you makes for a fine poker player, and you love to play men out of their money. He thinks it’s one of the funniest and most interesting things about you. He can’t help but love you a little more for it. )

When the feelings in him start to stir, Arthur tries to overlook it. Arthur convinces himself, time and time again - that there’s no way he’ll grow more tender about you. Eventually, it’ll die down. You’re a decent woman is all, a kind one - who’s easy for him to love and even easier for him to confide in. In your time together, you often come to Arthur and you always seem to have some profound wisdom he is so sorely lacking. Someone easy to love, who does not expect much from Arthur at all. It’s only natural a lonely, covetous man like him would start to dream about you. He tells himself, it will pass eventually. Should he simply let it run by him, it will pass. But Arthurs a fool, you’ll remember. 

 Of course, by the time he understood all that - he already loved you enough that he couldn’t bear it. It was already too late and it wasn’t going to change any time soon. Especially not while everything changed around him. 

So, Arthur is undoubtedly a fool, but he’s lucky. He felt divinely blessed when you’d returned his feelings for him so politely. A coy little smile on your face, a laugh like you thought he was silly for being doubtful. Arthur tried to explain himself but you wouldn’t hear a word of it. Maybe that’s another thing he loves so much about you. There’s nothing he ever needs to explain. 

In any case, all Arthur seems to do lately is want you. Wants you when it’s inconvenient. Wants you before he wants liquor or a cigarette or some other vice. Any time anything goes wrong, you’re the first thing his mind can conjure up for relief. That pretty smile and that self-assured way of living. It’s hard to get time alone in camp. And Arthur is a man in love, so any touch could be enough to set him on fire. Last week you hugged his waist a little before giving him a kiss goodbye and he had to listen to you laugh yourself into a fit as he waited for…little Arthur to settle down. 

He don’t get many chances to be with you. Lay with you in that way that grown folk in love do. Though, if the two of you book it somewhere for a few days - the camp knows better not to ask where you’ve been. But it’s not often you get to really be together, where it’s peaceful to do that. Someone’s always hounding one of you to do something. 

Arthur is a lucky man though, like he said. Today he had time. Today he’s alone with you in a beat up little saloon and today he gets to do as he likes. He gets to be greedy. And it’s an odd feeling for him, really, to want something so bad he disregards everything else in the world for a little while. 

Feeling you, though - absolves the guilt for wanting. He’d be stupid to want you any less desperately. 

Arthur’s favorite way to have you is on your stomach. Laid flat, just barely pushed up against him as he fucks you deep. You’ll fuck like rabbits for a little while and Arthur will wear you out just like this, maneuvering you until you’re pinned all underneath his weight. You lose any fight you might have, too exhausted to worry yourself with pleasing him - and when you’re like that, you let Arthur take care of you. 

(He really ain’t talented at much, but he’s good with his hands. Being dexterous is part of being a talented shot. When Arthur has the time to spread you sweet in his lap and make you cum all over his fingers, he does so for as long as he can. At least until you beg him so sweetly otherwise. The same hands, soiled with gunsmoke, look so good so deep in you. At least in his eyes.)

Wet and pliable and helpless. Arthur loves you like that. He knows, he knows you’re anything but - but he’d be damned to pretend this don’t feel best. Tight, wet cunt so welcoming from all the pleasure he’s ripped out of you. Your bodies pressed together, your heartbeat pulsing through your skin. All sticky, honeyed need and animal desire as Arthur lets all of him sink on top of you. His heavy, lumbering form crushing you in - trapping you somewhere you can’t run from him. The curve of your spine pushed against his chest, ticklish. 

Every inch of his body that so wholly wants for you, Arthur aches to make you feel. Burn it in you lest anything happens that risks your forgetting. 

He can feel his hips meet your ass, backside squished against him - desperate for deeper friction. Whining. You’re whining to him so pretty, a pillow pushed underneath you to give friction to needy clit. 

Arthur can feel how much you want more. Maybe Arthur is greedy, but he likes that look much better on you. Your pussy is sucking him in so tight, silken walls pulsing with every shallow little measured thrust. Arthur lets his arm wrap around your neck, your face pressing into his bicep. You moan again and he laughs. 

“Arthur,” Your words come out in a messy slur. He lets his scruffy face press against your neck, a kiss behind your ear. He wants to kiss you all over. There’s not enough hours in the day. “Oh, god, Arthur,” 

“Still feels good, then, I’m guessin’,” 

“Shut up,” You huff and press your cheek into his arm. He doesn’t bother stifling his laugh. “Still feels…big. Stretchin’ me out—hicc—so much,” 

You really don’t try to rile him up - but you do a damn good job of it anyway. He groans, grunts as he pulls back and pistons himself in you. A gesture half-way between a kiss and the warning shot of a gun. The sound of skin hitting skin echoes, noisy and vulgar. Arthur don’t pay it much mind. He laughs against your shoulder.

“One of these days, that moutha’ yours is gonna get me in real trouble.” 

You giggle back at him 

“What kinda trouble is that now?” 

Even from your side glance, you’ve got that lovely little smile on you. Fuckdrunk and ingratiating, like you know he’s wrapped so tight around your fingers. And he is, like nothing else in the world could have him. A wave of possession curls up over Arthur, makes him press more of himself into you. Onto you. Another deep push of his cock, sliding against the tenderest parts of you. Staking some silent desire in you. He wants and wants and wants, and hopes that whatevers above him can forgive him for making the same mistake thrice. 

“Dunno,” Arthur comments, teeth grazing your shoulder and kissing the indentations “Got our whole lives together to find out, I reckon.” 

“I’ll hold you to it, Mister.” 

Arthur laughs. “Hope you do, Miss.” 

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆ JOHN MARSTON + COWGIRL ;

John doesn’t say that he loves you lightly. 

Hardly a thing he says can be said that way. Could never afford too. In an alternate universe where nothing goes wrong in his life, maybe - but he has a hard time picturing what the hell that’d look like. A version of himself so untainted, without all of the violence and blood and gunsmoke? Foreign. John can’t picture it worth a damn. 

Who John is without a deadbeat father and a dead Ma is somewhere far beyond his reach. Ain’t nothing about his life, at any point, lighthearted. 

On top of all that mess, he’s got a boy at age four with a woman he ain’t married too. And that relationship is always on rocky waters, even though John’s decided to do right by his own flesh and blood sometime ago. Most things in the world he should feel good about he doesn’t, and most things he should understand render him clueless. He’s a mess on multiple accounts, and he still doesn’t know how exactly he’s meant to approach this life of his. He knows what he should do, but nothing about how to do it. 

John doesn’t come to love you easily ‘cause he wouldn’t know easy love if it hit him in his face. Quickly and painfully, but not easily. 

Your return to the gang was an odd one. You were an old presence and your disappearance was an even older story. John thought he’d never gonna see you again for sure. You’d been a part of the gang back long before all of the nonsense that took place in Blackwater and you left about the time Arthur’s boy died. John don’t remember why you left exactly. He thinks it was a fight with Hosea, of all things.

 Dutch weren't too happy about it neither, but Dutch back then didn’t make a show. 

So you left, and John buried every feeling he ever harbored. You found all them again up in Colter, where you’d been living out your days lately. According to you, in the middle of riding, you thought you’d heard Arthur. So, somewhat recklessly, you went chasing him. Didn’t matter if he was just something your mind conjured. According to you, if it was him, it was at least worth checking to make sure. You’d reunited with Arthur and after some tears, he rode with you back to camp. 

Upon your return, the gang welcomed you with open arms. 

You’d done a lot in your time alone.You spent most of that time just like that, a ghost wanderin’ the planes. You weren’t gonna stay with ‘em, but Arthur insisted and Hosea did too. That wasn’t enough to compel, so John was last to chip in. You should stay, at least until Valentine. 

(Silently he thought, you should stay so John can trace memories of you. It was so long ago, he should’ve forgotten all of it. You were a year older than John and always on his ass but easy for him to talk to. Didn’t fuss over his failures. You just barely grew into your womanhood when you set your sights on running away. You wanted more than this life, and John never really forgave you for it. His first heartbreak, maybe - but it’s all too blurry for that. 

You understood him though better than anyone, and one day you were gone. Nothing’s really the same.) 

You changed tremendously and not at all. He missed you. God, did he ever. Missed you a long time. Didn’t realize how much until you came back and everything in him felt right again. Your return stirred up old feelings and everyone noticed. He wasn’t trying to keep it a secret, but he really wasn’t trying to fall back into anything with you. Not how he did. 

Just like you did back then, you read John like an open book. And just like he did back then, he loved you all too helplessly for it.  It was just all too easy again, to be with you. 

You stayed out of the way at first, for the sake of his family. 

But, John ain’t a half-decent man even when he’s trying to be. So he set himself on being with you. It wasn’t easy - most things with him aren’t as you’ll see.  Having you around again straightened what was left of his common sense, at least. He told Abigail before telling you. He figured you wouldn’t even reply unless that was all out of the way. That turned out as well as you’d expect.

 It was settled between the two of you thereafter. He’s lucky she didn’t toss him into the street. 

Everything works out in a way. As best they can between broken people. You make peace with each other. His boy loves you like a third parent (you’re better with him than John is). Abigail commends you for straightening out such a worthless man though she’s a little melancholy.  John just tries to stay out of the way. You’ll be together in the end. There’s a plan with the five of you. 

But until it all falls apart, he doesn’t get all that much time with you. 

There’s moments like tonight, though. Rare ones. Together out robbin’, cooped out some place in the woods where no one is around. A place so shaded by nightfall that John can absolve himself of every sin he’s ever committed in his life and pray at the altar between your hips. John is convinced he might find worship like he’s always hearing about there whenever he touches you, the marred skin of his hands and knuckles reading the scripture of your body with careful precision. 

You might turn him into a literate man yet. 

John glances up at you. Only the light of the fire and the moonlight there to accompany as he watches you over him. You’re beautiful. John couldn’t picture a single thing more perfect in his life. 

Your hands against his bare chest, nails digging into the flesh as you lean forward. Your palm dug into the dirt, John finds his own hands rested at your hips. John looks at you awe-struck, cock twitching at the mere sight. His heart settles in his throat, but he’s calm all at the same time. With you, he forgets. All of it. The worst of himself. 

Bare naked and so close, he watches your face as you strain. You feel soft. Every inch of you in comparison to him is. A bead of sweat slides down the valley of your breasts. John cranes his neck up to catch it with his tongue, licking a stripe up to your neck - letting his teeth sink into the space between your jaw and neck. You want to make it last and John doesn’t blame you. It’s so rare you get to have each other so unrestrained. John can feel all the ways you want him, can see it in your face - all pinched with need. You’re holding yourself back, trying to get it to last as long as the night will allow. It’s cute in a way.

It’s different than how he’s used to seein’ you, all cocky or otherwise. You’re needy like this. Just needy. His stomach turns with lust, jolting through him like a strike of lightning. His cock twitches against your folds, sliding against them. Pure admiration watching the sticky mess of his pre-cum and your own arousal mix together and smear on your mound. You make a soft noise in the back of your throat, faint and tender as you fall forward just a little. John laughs against your neck. 

“Darlin’,” He says with a huff. Not malice. Something akin to bliss, where he can rarely afford it “Have I done something to piss you off today?” 

You pick yourself up and look down at him and frown. John kisses the corner of your mouth, resisting some crude desire to fuck up into you. 

“Just,” You grunt as the tip of his cock passes over your throbbing clit, your whole body wracking to a shiver. John looks awed. “Pent up. Goddamn it,” 

John figures it out quickly after that. It’s this part of it he likes. The proximity. The closeness. Feeling the tremble in your hands as they struggle to keep up right, muscles strained in your forearms. Being able to hold you, to keep the pace or let you take the lead. The clear view of your face as pleasure travels up through your spine and melts into you. He grabs your hips, the fat dimpling underneath his fingers as he moves you along. He can’t wait. You don’t bother to protest seeing John can’t seem to bear it anymore. You collapse into his chest, your tits pushed flat against his pecs.

His cock throbs near painfully, sliding against your soft cunt before finding himself lined with you. He thinks to himself that it’s this he was looking for, as he tucks your face against his neck and lets his tip stretch you out slowly. Such a vice like grip, stretching - resisting him like your whole body can’t anticipate the sensation of fullness. You gasp against his throat. 

“John,”  

What a sweet sound from your mouth, even sweeter as he bucks himself up. Keeps you steady and lets his cock stretch you full, feel you deep. “That’s right, my angel. Didn’t think you’d remember my name when you’re all worked up like this.” 

“You’re,” You gasp and John thrusts, thrusts hard until he’s buried to the hilt. You shudder, walls pulsing around him as he bottoms out and John laughs like the terrible man he is. He fucks you again, over and over - a wicked little smile watching “Awful. Just awful, John Marston,” 

“Ain’t that the truth,” He hums against your mouth as his hand snakes between your bodies, thumb rubbing against your clit. “Wonder what kinda woman that makes you,” 

“A foolish one,” 

John laughs. 

“I sure do love you for it,”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆JAVIER ESCUELLA + SIDEWAYS ;

Javier hasn’t thought about much other than surviving. 

It’s been like that. Been like that for a while, probably much longer than he cares to admit. He’s sure any sane man would suffer the same plight if they lead the same life. Anything but survival is little more than a pipe-dream, so Javier tries not to go for anything too strongly. In that aspect he’s like many of the members of the gang he’s in, perhaps that’s why he sticks to them. There’s that phrase Hosea’s always saying - that misery loves company. Javier will take any decent company he can get.  He’s desperate for it just like he’s desperate for most things - inwardly, silently. 

Some of that desperation may be symptomatic of who he is. After he killed a man in a crime of passion for a woman he loved and ran from a government who would sooner exile him than change, Javier decided to not dream anymore. Every revolutionary who dreams too hopefully pays the price in blood.

(Javier thinks there’s probably nothing in the world as true as this. A form of gospel. He remembers the first dream he ever had after his uncle passed. Not a nightmare but a dream. He remembers the exact feeling of waking up, cold and confused. What is a dream, except a memento of survivor's guilt that loyal people cling onto fruitlessly. When hope starts to feel like a debt he’s going to waste his life paying back, Javier loses sight of everything. The beginning of the end in some way.) 

His mind doesn’t occupy itself with anything bigger than that. Since Dutch found him starving, there was never a desire to try and live off aspirations. He pays his penance with loyalty and honor. Practices some form of humility and tries, not too desperately, to carve a place for him to fit. All without drawing too much attention or caring too much. If you ignore the bleeding in his fingers, his penchant for knives over guns, and his refusal to talk too long about the place he comes from - it’s nearly believable that none of it matters. 

Except loyalty. All Javier honors is that. It’s the only thing he has some part in choosing, so he choses it every time. Living like that didn’t make any difference to him. He was surrounded by mostly decent people. He didn’t hate the life he was living. 

It wasn’t important. It didn’t matter. His directionless-ness, his floating. Hadn’t since he joined the gang. At least not to anyone but him. He didn’t know what he’s meant to do or if he was meant to proceed with this forever. He was (is)  loyal to Dutch. To the gang. 

He hadn’t thought much about what comes after. 

And it didn’t matter until he met you

He’d sworn off love after seeing where it got him, at least until he could love more dispassionately. When the women bring you back from their outing from Valentine and beg Dutch to let you stay, Javier doesn’t think much of it all. He thinks you’re pretty, if it counts for anything. But he doesn’t let himself linger on you too long. 

But that’s the sequence with you two, really. The whole time.  He doesn’t linger until he does. It doesn't matter until it does. He doesn’t think about you until it’s all he can think about. 

You go for him first. And it’s in little, unimportant ways that might not mean shit to you but mean a whole lot to him. You have some kind of tenderness about you that you wear deep, runs through your blood like love ran through his once long ago. Some softness he can’t really measure with his own. It’s not that that gets him. It’s that sometimes you look at Javier like he's … someone you want to see. He forgot what that was like all together. It felt foreign to him the first time it happened. Seeing how you light up when Javier is around. 

You wanted to see him. You noticed that he’s gone. If he sang by the campfire - you’d sit by him and listen.  If he was out in the trees keeping guard, he’d hear the soft call of your voice to Grimshaw ask Where’s Javier? And sometimes the girls will make fun of you - but you wouldn’t deny anything they said. It’s so small and ordinary. He would’ve never considered himself simple before meeting you. Nothing is simple. Nothing. 

(But then, Javier thinks of the kinds of songs he sings and the way he takes care of himself and the clothes he wears and maybe Javier has some kind of affinity for preciousness that explains all of it.) 

When Javier confesses his feelings for you - he finds the affair to be like most things between you. Ordinary love, not really between outlaws but people. It’s up against a tree while you share a drink and he’s looking at the curve of your mouth and the plum color Karen’s so kindly put on you. And his head fills with kissing you so he does. A breathless confession between alcohol stains and the feeling of your hands curled in the lapels of his suit. 

From there, Javier is your lover. He’s not interested in the business of secrets, but he tries not to let it show too much. Not that he doesn’t want to. He wants to show you off more than anything - at least some part of him does. But the other part wants to keep you away from prying eyes, keep his love for you only where the both of you can see. If he could keep that pretty lovestruck face you make all to himself forever he would. 

When he gets a chance to whisk you away from everything, Javier jumps at the chance. Not often, but Javier makes time for you. Makes time to indulge in love he thought he’d  never find again. 

That’s why he’s here with you in the middle of nowhere, a ghost town where no one knows you.. A reserved room with a bed and lowlights all to yourselves. 

Javier can’t keep his hands to himself and he doubts you expect him too. 

For Javier, this sense of proximity is what intoxicates him most. The warmth of your bare skin in the slivers of yourself exposed. Javier is fond of finding you like this after a long day of horse riding. Of sneaking touches to your waist as you push back against him to sleep, only to find his desire for you - laid clearly. He likes hearing you whimper feeling his length poke against your back, the embarrassment when it dawns on you that he wants you after all. Always surprised, even though Javier tells you it so often. Whispers it along your neck and shoulders whenever you’re at camp together.

You like the feeling of his hands so Javier always starts with them. He squeezes your hips. Planes his palms over your chest before squeezing your chest, pushing the fat between his fingers. You like the way  they look when they grope you, his chin resting against your shoulder as you spoon. In the lowlights of a cheap hotel - Javier gets the perfect view of your silhouette. Your body is sensitive over the fabric of your gown, heat prickling through you. 

Javier who is always so gentle with you, rouses so deep listening to your whining as he explores your body. The suffocating closeness of a single bed intoxicates him. 

“Javier,” Your voice is sweet and thin. Plays in Javier’s head like music and makes his mouth curl up into a catlike grin as you push back on him.  You look slightly over your shoulder, lips pushed into a pout. “Please,” 

He tugs at the fabric of your nightgown. The top half pulls haphazard underneath your tits, nipples perky and sensitive to touch while the skirt pools at your waist. What gets Javier like this is the desperation. Wanting so much but not being able to look too long. A way for you to mirror him, it’s a matter of possession. In some stupid way. Bunching your clothes up, pushing the fabric of your panties to one side, letting his arm wrap around your waist to touch and tease.  All of these are imprints of his longing, tucked faithful into your side as he whispers sweet nothings into your skin.

His cock twitches as it pushes past your folds with finality, your hands curling up at your sides.  You whimper softly, let your cheek rest against the sheets as Javier takes you on your side. Terribly close, you fuss as you feel him slide every inch into you slow, your hands reaching back for purchase. It’s the fit of you against him so perfect, the silent strokes of intimacy, the hush-hush giggles between the sheets that Javier loves most about fucking you like this. Too enamored with you to look too closely, he lets his eyes flutter closed. He could get drunk just being in your space. 

He carves out space for himself inside of you, feels your cunt accommodate for him like it loves him. A feverishness breaks out as his forehead rests on the space between your shoulders, an uncharacteristic whiny quality in his words. 

“Ser mío,” Javier says - as a reflection of what he really wants, to belong only to you. “Belong to me.” 

Darling as you always are, you nod softly. 

“All yours, Javier,” You whimper, finding his hand. “Forever,”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆ CHARLES SMITH + MATING PRESS ; 

Wandering. 

He’s been doing it his whole life. Not something he’s proud of. Or ashamed of either, really. Just how things have gone for him until now. Charles doesn’t think his life has been any better or any worse than anyone else's. At least not when he weighs it with the same kind of pragmatism he does most things. It’s been a hard life, and a miserable one in so many ways. Still, it’s not something Charles is too keen to dwell on. 

There’s just something thematic about loss in Charles' life in a way he finds completely unpleasant. It’s more constant than anything. Loss of his home, loss of his mother, loss of his father in an attempt to find what’s best for him. It’s some overarching message that hangs over his head like a shadow. Everywhere he goes, trying to rectify his own solitude seems to come back to him. It doesn’t help that it’s an unfair world to start with, and would’ve been if he had just been black or just been native. But Charles is both, and has lived a life that reflects that specific injustice thoroughly. 

There’s not really anything Charles can do about it, at its baseline. When he left his father, the name of the game had simply been survival. He was well-equipped enough for that at least. But after survival comes trying to live and trying to live isn’t something so simple. Jumping in and out of gangs who thought they could get away with slighting him or generally being surrounded by unpleasant people. Trying to find something in pages of book and scripture, or in the way water ripples when it rains. 

He’s never felt any one way towards the gang. Even when he joined them all the way back in the Grizzlies. Lost in the cold, they’d crossed paths as Charles was out hunting. A lot of it feels like a blur. Of all the folks he’s met in his travels though, Dutch treats him fair and the rest of them (or most of them) are decent, honest folk. Charles stays in the Van Der Linde gang for such simple reasons as trying to stay alive and be somewhere that isn’t actively hostile towards him. He’s a good gunman, and a better fighter. The inner workings of gang politics and forging connection isn’t at the forefront of his mind, with the exception of the kindest few. 

The Van Der Linde gang is just a place where he can figure out what his purpose is meant to be, even if he doesn’t find it there. He’s never expecting anything to come out from his loyalties to it. 

Of all the things Charles expects of his life in the Van Der Linde gang, love is at the very bottom of the list. 

Maybe it’s about time he stops being surprised by these things happening to him one or way another.

 You were a member of the gang far before him, and someone Charles took to quickly. You’d joined the gang not too long after John from what Arthur tells him. Though the brunette speaks about you more fondly than he does his brother. A problem child at the start, according to Arthur - always getting into all sorts of trouble. Something you seemingly feel embarrassed about now and refuse to bring up. Charles has a hard time picturing it having only known you as you are. 

The woman you’ve grown into is someone else completely, and Charles sees that in you all the time. Compassionate like Hosea but charismatic like Dutch, and clever. And you’re beautiful, too, though Charles feels a little shallow admitting that’s part of what drew you into him. 

It wasn’t Charles that approached you first. You were the one who spoke to him, as often as you thought necessary but never in a way he found invasive. He doesn’t know what it is exactly about you that charms him near instantly. You’re enigmatic to a fault. It’s like you always know exactly what to say and exactly when to say it. Even more than that, you’re a terribly pleasant person to be around. Subtly warm and free of assumptions. When Charles talks to you about anything, you listen without making him feel like it’s any sort of burden to you. You don’t pry, don’t make missteps. Treat him fair, and then some. 

It’s unbearably simple, just how quickly and how easily he comes to adore you.  And, in some ways, Charles knows better than to believe that his purpose is loving someone. There’s more to it than that, surely - after everything. 

But then, he’ll watch you do something. Watch you do some kind of menial work that he could do for you instead. Thinks of skinning animals for new clothes and chopping wood and rubbing the soap off of you and all of a sudden it makes him feel anchored. Everything he could do for you. You anchor Charles easily, with a wispy smile. Make him want to find purpose in life with you. He never wants to be somewhere you’re not. 

He confesses it to you just like that, and like you do with most things - you accept and reciprocate without making too much of a fuss. 

For Charles, making love is an extension of wanting to ground himself in you. A distant siren song - the intersection of lust and bone deep adoration. Like most things, you’re the one to approach first every time. A soft hand on his forearm, a whisper that you want him. It’s with ease that he draws you away. Drags from you camp during nightfall with his horse and blankets and picks a spot with the perfect view of the stars. 

Charles watches you under the glow of moonlight, his vision adjusting to you easily. Naked underneath him, laid on your back with your legs folded at your knees - heaving deep breaths. He can see the sweat beading down your skin, your chest rising and falling - and the perfect view of your pussy. His hands and mouth are wet as you breathe out. He finds himself smiling at you, his own erection pressed against your thigh, pre-cum leaking out in a mesmerized haze. 

You lift your hands up and he leans down, surprised as you wrap them around his neck and pull him closer to you. Your mouths meet like that, and Charles laughs against your lips as you kiss him so eagerly. You blink at him, pretty. You’re always prettier than he remembers you being the last time he looks. 

“Charles,” You frown at him. “It’s impolite to keep a lady waiting,” 

He kisses the corner of your mouth. “Sorry, my love. I don’t want to hurt you,” 

“Well, I’m fine with it,” You repeat, almost petulant. Charles frowns. “‘Sides, it ain’t my first time taking you, you know?” 

“Well, I’m not fine with it.” 

You pout, looking at him all endeared. Charles couldn’t help but love you even if he tried. “You ain’t gonna hurt me. C’mon. Please?” 

“Please, what?” 

You look at him aghast before breaking out into a faux-scandalized giggle. “Now you—please fuck me. Pretty, please.” 

Charles feels something tickling against his spine hearing you say it. He couldn’t imagine getting sick of you in his whole life.  “Yeah, that’s good to hear.” 

You make an indignant noise but it’s silenced quickly as Charles positions himself against your entrance. He has plenty of discipline when it comes to matters like these, but right now - he feels like he’s going to lose his mind. Not nearly enough patience to wait. He lets his hands go up underneath your knees just to have something to hold onto. 

You make a little gasp as the tip of his cock pushes into you. Your walls are so soft, likely after all the orgasms he’d given you prior. You stop him in a shocked gasp, and Charles immediately readies himself to pull out. As if sensing his hesitance, you shake your head. 

“Charles,” You gasp, the words caught in your throat and hoarse “Deep. Want it deep,” 

His abdomen tightens, cocking twitching hard at your words. He agrees silently to your desires. 

When it comes to sex, there’s very little Charles dislikes.

But this is his favorite. He’s simple but no other position lets him see you so close. He likes the way your eyes widen as he pushes up underneath your knees and folds you underneath his weight. How you look pinned down under him, the perfect view of your eyes rolling back into your head and the proximity from your face to his. He lets his cock stretch you out slowly, throbbing each time your nails dig desperately into arms trying to keep your composure. Fuck you feel so tight like that. Soft pussy, dripping and sticky. You suck him in relentlessly, and Charles groans as he bottoms out. You take every inch of him so well. So perfect like the rest of you. 

Your eyes flutter open as he stays there, buried in you in complete bliss. You’re dazed. 

“Kiss?” 

Surprise followed by adoration, he abides by your request easily. Overwhelmed with it as he presses a chaste peck to your mouth, he laughs. “As many as you want.”

Anything you want, Charles thinks, he would give to you. 

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆

[papil0nglegs]

Friday night night funkin dating hcs!!

Warnings: Some nsfw stuff but nothing too far, boob grabbing, bra stealing, nudes but not rlly

A/n: I HAVE ANOTHER OBSESSION UGHHH, anyways!! I’m so happy the fandom is reviving bc of the new update ahh. Also I didn’t rlly know what to put for bc so apologies if you wanted more of him :(

Keith (bf):

He’s such a flower sniffer istg

He’s like a rosy cheeked sweetheart who brings you heart chocolate every time he visits you

No but actually he’s wrapped around your fingers, it’s scary.

His fav dates are you and him alone at his house watching Godzilla movies and laying his head against your stomach while you play with his hair

AND YOU WEAR HIS HAT

Sometimes you’ll send a pic of you in his boxers that he left at your house just to tease him

But whenever he feels silly (which is all the time) he’ll send a picture of him in your bra for funsies

“I can do that too :D”

“0_•”

Keith is such a nerd, playing video games with him is your go to date

You guys would always match, like whenever you two play Mario kart he’d be toad and you’d be toadette

You hype him up sm, esp when playing Fortnite 😭

Y’all know that one Tik tok audio that goes

“Yeah get his ass FUCKING PUSSY TRY THE FUCK AGAIN BITCH, TRY THE FUCK AGAIII”

You do that, and it scares him.

His fav activity? Pot + cartoons.

You guys are the silliest couples ever. Laughing at SpongeBob with fog all over the room until your ribs start to hurt.

“Babes.. do you think that like-Starfires armpits are also pink?”

“…woah”

Pico:

Now when pico first starting dating you he thought you were just another chick to stuff his wiener in.

But soon enough, you guys were both wrapped around each others finger.

He’d kill for you tbh

Pico canonically has abs, so he likes it whenever he’s chilling with you and you just poke/rub them. He thinks it’s the cutest AND hottest shit ever

This man cannot get enough of your boobies, whenever he’s on his phone he’d have his arm around you and casually use your boob as a stress ball.

Sometimes he’ll just steal your bras whenever you’re showering or changing, just so that he can get a fresh look at ‘his girls�� (that’s what he calls them)

“Pico!! Have you seen my bra?”

“Hm? Na babe, I’m js here.”

This sly fuckin ginger

Most of his dates consist of going to his fav burger joint or sleeping over at each others houses

He esp loves the second one cuz he gets to makeout with you, prob his fav thing to do in this life.

Whenever you guys leave any function, like ever, he’ll yell out your ship name as he leaves the room 😭

“Pi-y/n, OUT”

“Babe you don’t have to do that every time we leave..”

Also his dad (Tankmen) loves embarrassing him in front of you.

(Tankmen) “Yeah so Pico kept pissing himself in the bed until 7th grade, shit had me concerned but turns out it was just normal puberty shit.”

(You)“Oh..”

“Dad I’m gonna kill you.”

Lmao he did eventually

Darnell

Darnell has such a big ego on being a ‘cool tough guy’, but when it comes to you it entirely washes away

It embarrasses him whenever he’s around his friends and you come over and start smooching him all over his face, getting lipgloss/lipstick all over him

“Mwah mwah mwah!!”

“B-baby. Babe, you’re ruining my aura.”

But he loves showing you off, you’re like his biggest flex. Whenever he hangs with his friends he always shows pictures of you like you’re his newborn

“Yeah so this is when we went to the skate park the other week and-“

“Dude. This is like the 5th picture you’ve shown me of them.”

Once for Valentine’s Day, he surprised you by spray painting an entire wall of you smooching him. (But like in the style of the fnf stickers they sell)

You were in such awe, you almost cried.

He was so embarrassed to show you at first, but when he saw how much you loved it he was so relieved

You and Nene are such besties

Like, squealing while talking about boys besties

“HII Y/N!!! :33”

“OMG HEY NENE!! ^^”

So when she found out you had a crush on Darnell, she was so excited

You guys became delusional abt him together, like

“NENE TODAY DARNELL LOOKED AT ME”

“STOPP HE WANTS YOU SO BADD”

“IKR”

O and your weapon (cuz everyone in picos friendgroup has one) is a broken glass bottle of whatever your fav drink is

Sometimes you’ll throw in a burning rag in there to make a Molotov cocktail

Also I hc that Darnell has thick silver rings and you love how they feel against your neck whenever you guys are smooching.

He lets you wear them at times but they always slip off because our boy has some THICK fingers.

[theloveinc]

OlderDad!Bakugou who gets a haircut and his baby doesn't recognize him and he doesn't want his dad to pick him up 😭😭😭😭😭😭

Bakugou has a cry in the bathroom and you have to spend the rest of the night consoling him.

Also Hiiiiiii, miss u, hope youre gooooood

head in my hands bc of this, just thought abt bakugo growing out his hair a little bit right after baby's birth...takes him months to go and get a real haircut cuz he doesn't wanna burden you more than he already has and by the time he's okay with the thought (but only for "AN HOUR MAX," is what he says), he has a mullet thing going on and all this scruff on his chin🥺🥺🥺

so he gets home with his regular ol' haircut, maybe a little shorter just to account for ... not wanting to go again so soon, and baby's HOLLERING bloody murder as soon as they see him and refusing to be taken out of your arms, doing that thing where they're flipping their face back and forth to dodge a kiss...

it's so tragic bc not even a little cheek nuzzling helps to calm them bc bakugo's CLEAN SHAVEN and smells like aftershave instead of like dad when he tries!!!!!!

and after, you watch him kinda sulk into the bathroom, thinking like aw yeah thats a bummer but also pretty funny, too (esp bc the haircut does look good🫣🤓), AND HE DOESN'T COME OUT FOR LIKE an hour???

....until you finally have to ask him if he's okay in there and you're opening the door to him sitting on the toilet seat, arms crossed and red cheeks a little streaky with tears...

LJFKASDJFADSJK it's the cutest, most sad sight you ever did see!! ofc Bakugo tries to deny it, but the way he tears up again (after you're done assuring him he did nothing wrong) when his baby finally realizes it's him and smiles (and then how he refuses to give them up again until bedtime) has his ass. EXPOSED.

(i love and miss u more than air, earth, water, dirt + HOPE YOU'RE GOOD TOO BESTIE ILY)

[ninguitar]

ROCKSTAR GIRLFRIEND, 𓈒𓈒 lara day !!!

pairing. lara raj x f!r genre. fluff wc. 800+ notes. heard lara say sumn ab being a rockstar gf nd knew i NEEDED to make this rn esp w how she sang pink + white already !! 🥹 ( MASTERLIST. )

now playing ⋆ pink + white by frank ocean

as a musician, lara always wanted to have your input on any of her demos, frequently dragging you to the studio at night. and tonight was like no other evening, your clock reading 12 in the morning.

your phone quietly notifies you beneath the sheets, as you rub your temples, a myriad of frenzy notifications from your girlfriend appearing on your lockscreen.

[ lara ♡ ] come to the studio asap !!! need ur opinions ( 11:45 pm ) [ lara ♡ ] missed uuuu 🫂🫂 ( 11:46 pm ) [ lara ♡ ] are u awake… hello ?? 😭😭😭 ( 11:47 pm ) [ lara ♡ ] PLEASE 💔💔 might shave my head if u dont respond ( 12:05 am )

god, even through text lara was spewing out silly remarks; she knew how much you loved her goofy comments. with your hand set on your phone keyboard, you type out equally silly, frantic messages to lara.

[ y/n ] im awake im awake😭😭 lara wtf !!! dont shave ur head ill miss running my fingers thru ur hair💔💔 ( 12:21 am ) [ y/n ] ill be there soon im changinf rn baby🙏 okayy love u byeeee ( 12:21 am )

even when these late evenings spent listening to lara's demos became frequent, neither of you couldn't help but savor the moment, knowing how packed your guys' schedules usually were.

strong senses of gratitude always came back to the two of you, whenever you guys could spend even a minute with one-another, where lara wanted to have your plush lips against hers forever.

grabbing a random sweater from your closet, you slide it over your torso, hastily grabbing your car keys. turning on the car ignition, you hurriedly drive over to the studio, the street lights strobing through your windows.

parking near the entrance, you wait to be buzzed in through the door, while the breezy air began to drift against your face, feeling your nose getting red. texting lara, you try to heat yourself up, regretting not wearing a heavier sweater.

[ y/n ] where are you? ( 12:47 am )

before you could send another message, lara comes rushing out the door, her arms hastily snaking around your waist, with her neck buried against the nook of your neck. a barely audible, mumbled "missed you," escapes the red-haired girl's throat.

you squeak under your breath, as you try to drag her into the building, your nose gradually becoming redder from the bleak coldness.

"it's cold, why didn't you just wait for me in the car?" the indian girl murmurs, her hands cupping your jaw to emphasize her words. a gentle smile tugs the corners of your lips at the girl's heartwarming worry.

you squeeze her hand in assurance, as you press your lips against lara's plush ones, while she drags you into the studio. the indian girl sits you down on the couch, pulling in a seat for herself.

she pulls out a guitar case that sat to the right of her, as a playful grin adorns her face, a guitar pick in her ring-clad hand.

you eagerly sat down on the couch, your leg crossing over the other, as heat flares on your cheeks at lara beginning to strum to the slow rhythm, anticipating for her melodic voice.

NOW PLAYING: PINK + WHITE BY FRANK OCEAN

your heart practically jumps out of your chest from the indian girl's voice raising high, following the sweet, up-beat notes of her guitar. your mouth holds agape, enthralled by your girlfriend's beauty and the intoxicating melody.

"that's the same way you showed me, showed me/you showed me love." ♬

"glory from above/regard my dear." ♬

with the music swelling, you couldn't help but swoon even more for lara raj, your eyes softening at the fact that she spent time perfecting the song. lara's angelic, dulcet voice accompanied by the melody causes a cascade of sweet, exhilarating memories to emerge.

"god, you are surreal," you mumble, as your hand curls around lara's wrist, pulling her onto your lap, as she rids herself of the guitar, "you're drop-dead gorgeous, y'know that?"

you couldn't help but feel tears brim your eyes, as you bury your head against the crook of the indian girl's neck, murmuring out long strings of praise. your hands find themselves to her hair, entangling them in her red tresses.

"sooo… did you like it?" a chuckle escapes her breath, as her hand rests on the back of your neck, meekly drawing circles on it with her thumb. her hand gently pulls your head to meet you face-to-face, her hand now cupping your jaw.

in lieu of an answer, you swiftly press your lips against hers, your actions taking lara's breath away. her lips were confident and passionate against yours, reciprocating the feverish desire you had for her.

"have i ever told you how gorgeous you are?" you drawl out against her lips, as the indian girl huffs, her lips hastily moving back to yours with an urgency, conquering yours with a fervor that left you wanting more.

"i missed you," lara raj professes, as you both lay down on the couch, your eyes locking onto hers, and continuing, she murmurs, "that's my sweater, isn't it?" which elicits a series of giggles from the two of you.

that's the way everyday goes

every time we lose no control

taglist. ୨ৎ @lararajjj @kisshae @sed7ction

@jellaaa @yeetaberry127 @angelixstorm

[thecapricunt1616]

Bestie! Dad Carmy

Surprise! Dad! Carmy is still rotting my brain. Just thinking about Carmy during the 12-18 month stage with his first baby (more btc). 

Bc like I don’t have kids myself yet but have been around them a lot and 12-18 months is when things start getting fun. Babies are laughing and starting to talk a bit more and show interests. 

He would absolutely be a clingy dad. Like the first year I absolutely think he would have Syd take the reins on the restaurant and he would more handle the back of house book type things so he could just stay home more, but if he did have to go to the restaurant - I can see his little angel being The Bears mascot. 

Like he would walk in, sunglasses on, baseball cap, dad mode activated wearing his baby on his front like in one of those stretchy carriers. His baby even would have on little sunglasses herself bc she gotta twin with dad, that’s her bestie. He would walk in through the back and go into the office just to grab something on his way to run some errands but would run into Tina or something and it would become a whole ordeal. 

If it’s pre-service time everyone is taking turns holding her and playing with her, Carmy is proudly showing off as soon as she can say ‘dada’. You can bet if it’s pre-service he’s getting her all dressed up in a cute outfit before he goes by because he knows everyone is gonna gush over how cute she is. He would be so blushy and proud and happy whenever he has his little mini-me with him, his mood would be a full 360 from when he’s just there to work and get shit done. 

And don’t get me started if one day you went for family dinner as a surprise and they’re all sitting at the table and his baby just toddles in holding her baby bear in one hand and some random kitchen tool like a whisk she picked up as you snuck in through the back and just gently taps his side and offers it to him bc she just associates cooking tools with daddy since he’s always holding them. He would be sooooo happy like the esp if it was the first time you had surprised him with her at work- Syd would be like 

“I dont think I’ve ever seen him smile that way - it’s kinda creeping me out” but he doesn’t even notice enough to tease her back because he’s so entrenched in making his baby giggle and having her try the food they’d been eating to see how she likes it since at that age they’re old enough to eat solids. 

Don’t even get me started on music that baby would love music all babies do but really anything art because I mean look who her dad is but never in his life did that man ever think he would WILLINGLY dance around especially in a silly way but MAN as soon as his baby starts dancing to music he can’t help himself he’s up copying them, showing them his own dad moves to make them giggle, AUGHHHH 

Also ofc your baby would want to be like her mama as well, so she would play in her kids makeup sets and show her work off to him and when he is over the moon and tells her how pretty she is and how well she did, shes gonna puppy dog eye him into allowing her to do his makeup, so one day you just come home and carmy has a head full of butterfly clips, cherry red lipgloss, and bright blue sparkly eyeshadow as well as pink blush and a tiara on with your daughter in a matching one fallen asleep infront of the tv with tangled playing or some other disney movie omggggg ugh i love him 

Okay guys let me get back in my cage I just had to come out and share my thoughts hahahahaha 

[luludeluluramblings]

dream duo back on our yapping because the spiral is spiraling and by god is it worth it to have two idiots on (1) account

Bruce is going to absolutely lose it if it’s superbly or Roy or any guy he doesn’t like, but hear us out:

the in laws are yanderes too. With Konnor- Superman and Lois LIVE to have a grand baby and a new daughter in law that likes being given no strings affectiom, who WANTS to be family and adjusts to it. Especially since the batfam would have a hell of a time dealing with trying to keep Superman, Lois (she canonically shot at Bruce for coming into her home all Batman like), Kara, Jon, and Konnor away from reader.

Especially if reader actually WANTS to be around them?? man, Bruce is going through it. He can’t hurt Superman as Batman because it would screw up public relations and the Justice leagues dynamic. He can’t hurt Clark Kent because the dude basically has plot armor.

Even better if baby is also superhuman and doesn’t like the batfam either. Small army of children blasting lasers at Bruce or just flying away with reader.

Do you think Konner would just pick reader up and fly away from the batfam??? i think he would. I think he and Jon would play keep away from the batfam with reader (esp knowing that the bats can’t actually force reader away from them in the air without risking hurting or killing them). The Kent’s unite against bats.

I like to imagine these type of shenanigans as something that goes on without Reader's knowledge. They got a baby to take care of, or are too tired and irritable to deal with people bickering. Basically, whoever leaves her alone or gives her what she wants in a reasonable manner, is her favorite and she'll make sure they know it.

But, as soon as she goes to take a nap, or put the baby down to rest. WW3 starts between the in-laws and the Bats. Anarchy and flames everywhere. Chaos at the family BBQ. (Stephanie is the Bats' main source of keeping Reader to themselves until the other's can butter her up. But, baby daddy might be able to swing it in his favor if they have enough charm and can manipulate Reader.)

[daylite-writes]

Traitor readers always hit different! How about traitor reader with all of the harbingers (but I got a special bias for Pierro) 😫. Like betraying one is bad enough betraying and hurting all? Oh boy

Oooh I like this! I am gonna split it up into separate little instances of what I think they’d be like though for my sanity. I may expand to a few other full traitor fics (esp the Pierro one I really popped off on that damn) later on if I get ideas!

Certain characters take it MUCH better than others, varying from a scale of “Oh that’s Lowkey Hot” to “DIE”.

cw: yandere (?) behaviors, murder, manipulation, imprisonment, forced marriage, forced experimentation

~~~ Harbingers reacts to Traitor!Reader (ordered best to worst ~~~

Childe definitely takes it the best. In fact, this is honestly preferable for him. He’ll let you escape back to your leaders after you find out, giving you a head start before chasing you across Teyvat. The adrenaline is the hot part. He can’t get enough. He’s so easily bored. Come on baby, run a little faster. Make it fun. And after he follows you to your master’s base of operations, he’ll slaughter them and offer you an official place within the fatui’s ranks. Under him, of course! He won, after all, and the winner takes all.

Pantalone doesn’t see this as the worst thing. He’s very familiar with traitors, spies, and secrets. Though how you got around him for so long is a mystery. Once he finds out he’ll just be so sweet. Come on, treasure, just tell him everything and he’ll protect you. No? Oh well. A pretty enough price—or a favor from his more violently inclined coworkers—will have them abandoning you forcefully or not. Then he can scoop you up and… convince you to come home with him. It’s just more leverage to have over you, and it’s perfect for a man with control issues.

Pulcinella just… drops you. He has a nation to run, and his proximity to important information is too valuable. Unlike many of his colleagues he is not willing to bend the rules for feelings. He’s old, and he knows whatever feelings he feels towards you (platonic, romantic, familial, whatever) will pass with time. He reports this information to the proper place, and trusts the people he commands to take care of you properly. It hurts, but most things do at first.

Signora really thought you loved her. She hasn’t felt passion in centuries, and now as soon as her frozen heart thaws it’s revealed you're a traitor? Her heart can hardly take it. It hurts so much. Leave. Go now before she changes her mind and kills you. She cannot bear to have another lover dead in her arms. So take this chance and go, if you don’t, ice will encase her heart and she will slaughter you.

Columbina goes the kidnapping route essentially immediately. You can’t be a spy if you can’t report back to your masters! She’s very gentle though, running her fingers through your hair, humming happily, showering you with beautiful outfits and clothes. Even if you’re paralyzed from her haunting melodies, and feathers and eyes unfurl from the corners of your vision. Like a bird in a cage. It’s really your fault for catching the attention of someone so insane and powerful.

Arlecchino reacts similarly to Capitano, she is very proficient at breaking people down, ruining them, and turning them into what she thinks you ought to be. How dare you? This is a betrayal she will have to remedy. Loyalty is necessary. She’s crueler than him about it. Less patient. You will not be coming out of this unscarred. It’s better to just give in quickly, convincing her you learned your lesson, that you’d never betray her again. Reguardless of what you do though, several house of hearth members will be stalking you whenever you’re away from her, so don’t even bother trying to get back to your masters. It will not end well.

Pierro. Oh Pierro. You’ve never seen the man so sad. For a second, he looks almost pathetic. That is, before he motions for his men to drag you down to whatever dungeons are within the palace. He doesn’t visit you for weeks, but as soon as you start to think he’s never going to look at you again, he’s there, outside your freezing cell. The sadness so heavy in this man is wiped away by fury. He, personally, drags you from your cell. You can’t even walk as he pulls you along, stumbling every time you try to get your footing. He drags you for what seems like forever, ignoring you. Eventually, you’re in the Tsaritsa’s cathedral, with the ice goddess herself standing where the priest was. She smiled at you, and fear floods your body as he forces you down the aisle. He mutters something about how lucky you are. How many strings he had to pull with his god to allow this. You’re married there, ice freezing your ankles as you stand where a bride would, heart heavy in your throat. You know then that the only option is to say “I do”.

Scaramouche does not and will never take this well. Another betrayal? Typical of humans. He will go into a rage when he faces you, and chances of you escaping that rage in one piece is slim to nothing. If you don’t, ice floods his veins as he curls around your body, just asking why why why. If you do, he’ll drag you to the infirmary, force some poor healer to fix you, and then toss you in the dungeon similar to Pierro. He won’t visit you, thinking that this is a proper punishment. You abandon him? He’ll abandon you. He’ll come around sometimes though to yell at you or sob on your lap. Other than that, expect a life of imprisonment with mild favoritism and some physical scars.

Sandrone doesn’t take it well at first. When faced with your crimes, she immediately lashes out, destroying several of her newest machines and scarring you physically. After she calms down, though, she’ll calmly figure out everything that you leaked, who you leaked it to, and begin to work while you stay in a cell in her lab. She comes back to you a few days later, in which you’ve been completely abandoned, with some sort of mechanical collar and a tracking chip. Oh calm down, she’ll say as she rolls her eyes. The surgery is quick, but done without any anesthesia. The collar records everything and will shock and paralyze you upon exiting her laboratory. The chip is for tracking, but it can also release poison into your bloodstream. There! She was being so nice, not turning you into a machine. Say thank you, it might make her more likely to feed you.

Dottore has a breakdown almost immediately upon hearing this. He’d cackle, pacing in front of you, rambling on about how bold you were to try this shit with the cruelest of the Harbingers. Really? Playing with his heart is probably the worst mistake a person could ever make. He’s never been too enamored with human bodies, but monsters? Abyssal creatures? He finds them so beautiful, and he’s been needing a new subject. Don’t worry, it won’t hurt! Just be quiet and let him make you into the ideal version of yourself. He’d never dare do this to you if you weren’t a traitor, he loved you, but all bets are off as soon as you sabotaged his work and smuggled information. And the worst part? You’d still be his lover. Forever bound. Just more monstrous than before.

~~~

Lowkey I can’t believe I wrote for all of them. I didn’t think I do them all but then I had IDEAS. Which is somewhat uncommon for me. Everyone clap!

[genericpuff]

ten storylines u think could have been amazing in lo if they had been handled better?

10 already feels like so much for a story like LO buuttt:

1.) the act of wrath plotline, seriously this one felt like it had some of the most lost potential as one of LO's more unique plotlines (and it lost that potential as soon as it was turned into some "oopsy" committed by persephone due to her wrath being a 'gift' from eris when she was a baby??? still bugs me so much ugh) give me back that dichotomy of Persephone and her internalized wrath, dangit.

2.) the Eros and Psyche plotline. it started off so promising as a parallel B-plot to H x P and then seemed to just get dropped halfway through S1 when Psyche got turned into a nymph.

3.) Echo's involvement as a double agent for Zeus. that was clearly the intention when she was introduced but then she was promptly dropped and only showed up again to say "fuck you Zeus" with zero build-up or implication that she had a change of heart. Like imagine if we actually saw her leaking info back to Zeus but then also getting closer to Hera on a personal level and realizing that she didn't want to keep snitching on her. it would have also made the 'big reveal' of Hera kissing Echo a lot more impactful because then they would have had an actual story arc.

4.) Persephone's character development into becoming the Dread Queen. Right now the story wants us to think that Persephone is somehow "better than ever" despite the fact that her version of the "Dread Queen" is being an absolute Karen. But think of how it could have been if her character de-evolution was the point, to show how Hades had corrupted her. Or if they were meant to be actual shitty people and not shitty people that the narrative was trying to convince us were good.

5.) Hades' and Minthe's relationship. It goes without saying that Minthe was wrong to turn to physical violence, but I'll die on the hill that Minthe wasn't being treated fairly by Hades, either. Those three flashback episodes in S2 leading up to Minthe getting turned into a plant were such a missed opportunity to showcase how Minthe became as bitter as she did towards Hades and what their relationship was actually like in the beginning (and why they liked each other in the first place which they very clearly did) but instead it just dragged its heels because obv Rachel didn't want people empathizing with Minthe.

6.) Ares being used as a tool for war by Zeus. It's clear being sent off to these wars is taking its toll on him and it's created a steep divide within the family, especially concerning how protective Ares is of Hera esp when it comes to how Zeus treats her.

7.) The Aphrodite / Hephaestus plotline. Good god I have no idea what the thought process was behind this one, some of the myths she kinda got away with flipping but this was the one that made the least sense to flip. There was so much potential there that was squandered, a lot of it at the expense of Aphrodite and Ares as traditionally powerful and respected gods.

8.) Hades' alcoholism. Minthe was right, simply falling for Persephone and dropping the cigars and brandy to make himself look better for her doesn't make him a changed person. If the alcoholism was linked to his trauma, why didn't we explore that more? Why couldn't we have seen him actually pursue proper recovery and have it not just be "I'm hot for the 19 year old girl but if I'm drinking constantly that'll make me look bad so I'm just gonna put on the best fake persona I can to make her fall in love with me" instead of actually getting to the root of his issues?

9.) The SA plotline. As much as I talk about how shitty it is, I have zero issue with the original depiction of it, I think it was very accurate especially when it comes to coercion. A lot of people assume SA has to be violent, kicking and screaming, begging for help, but coercive assault is often a lot quieter and more about manipulation which that scene nailed in depicting. It's just everything after that that feels completely misfired and more so for the purpose of making Hades look like a better person simply by comparing him to Apollo on the basis of "he never assaulted Persephone!" and it drives me nuts.

10.) Demeter's winter. In the most recent FP episode, while discussing it with pals, all I could really say was, "This was supposed to be a retelling of the Abduction of Persephone". And Demeter's winter is a core part of that story, one of its biggest purposes in Greek culture was using the myths to explain the creation of the seasons. Despite this being a "retelling" of the Abduction of Persephone / Hymn to Demeter, one of the most important characters in the entire myth has been reduced to, at worst, a Mother Gothel Disney villain, and at best, a pointless NPC.

[ateezthings]

Thoughts are too much

pairing: bf!Changbin x female reader genre: angsty angst with fluffy ending warnings: body image issues (esp. regarding weight, hairiness, posture, sweatiness), mental health struggles, reader is a bit of an asshole, Changbin is a sweetheart word count: 1,4 k songs to listen to while reading: palaye royale – don’t cry enhypen – moonstruck i prevail – doomed ninety one – why’m sleeping at last – you’re enough a/n: to anyone who relates to these thoughts: I hope you find the courage to cultivate your own little Changbin in your head, who can fight those thoughts for you. Changbin is just my little safe place when it comes to body issues.

No, you were not gonna miss this train. You sprinted towards the closing doors, determined to make it to work on time. Just before the doors closed, you made it inside, the people around staring at you.

You found an empty seat and sat down, sweaty but feeling proud. As you took out your book you noticed you sat down opposite of an incredibly beautiful woman. It wasn’t so much her features that were pretty, it was more how everything about her seemed so incredibly well-proportioned. She also seemed to hold herself well, she definitely had good posture. Her shoulders were not drooping like yours often were. She also didn’t seem to sweat like you currently were.

A few years ago, you were deeply buried in your self-critical thoughts about your looks. Your mind didn’t need anything to attack every single thing about your body. ‘Your stomach is way too big’, ‘You’re way too hairy for anyone to be attracted to you’, ‘You should be ashamed of your weight’. Horrible stuff, day in, day out.

You’d worked long and hard to keep these thoughts and feelings in check. You knew there was no other way around it but to keep trying to be nice to yourself. Some days were easier than others. Today seemed to be a particularly tough day.

As soon as you looked at the woman opposite of you, all those thoughts you thought you had handled, came back rushing in without warning. ‘Look at her, she doesn’t look like a sweaty pig’, ‘You should suck in your stomach more, hers isn’t even visible’, ‘Sit up straight, you look awful’.

You were listening to every single thing your mind shot at you. You couldn’t seem to deal with them today and so you had no choice but to start believing all the horrible things again. They seemed true in that moment. You turned up the song on your headphones a bit more.

…

You’d made it to lunch, sitting next to a few colleagues, just chitchatting away. As you got up to get a second serving of the pasta bake, your coworker stated “A second serving, are you sure?”

She wasn’t a particularly good friend at work, but it was enough. It was enough to summon that dark cloud of thoughts again. ‘Nothing about you was or ever will be good enough’. She might as well have punched you in the stomach.

…

With enough distraction, panic about getting fired and more caffeine you’d made it through the work day. All you wanted to do now was get home, and lie down in front of your comfort show Gilmore Girls.

As soon as you shut your apartment door your bones seemed to get 37 kilograms heavier. You leaned against the door and took a deep breath.

“Honey?” His voice startled you. He poked his head around the corner. It was your Changbin.

“Hey baby… what are you doing here?”.

“Oh, I just went to the gym around the corner. By the time I was done I remembered this is usually the time you get home from work, I wanted to surprise you.” That smile, it melted away the tension in your forehead and shoulders. You got up to hug him. It was one of those hugs where you could let go, shifting almost all your weight on Changbin, who did his best to hold you together.

“Are you okay, honey?”

You didn’t feel like you could verbally express everything that was going on in your brain. “Yeah, of course”

He softly let go of your hug. “Then how about some dinner?”

“Uh, I’m not really hungry right now”

“Are you sure? You’ve worked all day”

You were getting more and more irritated the more he questioned you. “Yes, Changbin, I am sure. I am not hungry.”

He took a step back and put his palms up in defense. “Okay, okay… I’m just worried about you… You sure everything’s alright?”

A small grunt left your lips. “Yes, and I don’t want to be questioned anymore. Please just leave me alone” Your voice sounded louder than you intended.

And there it was: the hurt on his face. It wasn’t too obvious but you could read him. And he could probably read you. Which is not at all what you wanted right now.

“I need to leave.” You hadn’t taken off your shoes when you got home so you just opened the door.

“No, Y/N please talk to-” But you already shut the door on him before he could finish his sentence.

After a few steps you stopped for a beat to hear if he would come after you, but he didn’t. He knew you too well to assume you wanted to talk in a situation like this.

Of course, you knew you were behaving like an asshole. He didn’t deserve your bitchiness but it was all too much in your brain today. The thoughts, the anxiety, the depression, it all weighed too heavy on your shoulders today. Why was he even still with you?

You’d talked to him about your mental health struggles in the past, and he was always trying his best to ease the struggle. But every few weeks you started believing in the thoughts again and they were telling you to isolate yourself. Changbin didn’t love those parts of you anyways, so you deserved to be alone.

That got you thinking: Changbin sometimes had rolls on his stomach, he got sweaty at times. But that didn’t make you love him any less. You loved him for him, not because of what he looked like or didn’t look like. He made you feel safe and home.

There was a tiny voice on your head that said maybe, just maybe that was also the case for him. He never gave you much reason to doubt his love for you. So, what were you doing consciously sabotaging your relationship? Why were you walking around alone at night, instead of confiding in your best friend and boyfriend? How stupid of you.

It took you a good few minutes to find the way back to your apartment. In your emotional state you just walked wherever without looking about where you were going.

Eventually you made it back. You realized you didn’t know what to say to Changbin.

Before you could worry further, your apartment door swung open and Changbin stood right in front of you. He looked relieved. “Oh, thank god, honey, you’re here.” He engulfed you in a tight hug and lifted you off the ground. “I was gonna give you 15 minutes before going after you but I got too worried” He squeezed you a bit tighter.

“I’m sorry, Changbin, my thoughts are too much for me today.” Your voice was a whisper.

He let go of you to look at you. His eyebrows were raised and eyes big. “Will you tell me what’s going on in there right now?”

You nodded. It was time.

He took your hand and pulled you inside, on the couch.

After you somehow explained to him what’s been going on in your mind, you felt extremely tired but a lot lighter. A few tears fell down your cheeks while you were talking. Changbin listened closely the entire time.

“Y/N, please promise me, that the next time you notice these thoughts, you immediately text me. What you’re thinking isn’t the reality, not even close. I love you, and I love all of you, no matter what you look like. What you look like isn’t what makes you worthy, it’s being yourself. And I think you’re pretty amazing… and I am of course very objective in saying that so you can believe me… it’s based on scientific evidence.”

There it was, his stupid sense of humor you loved so much. Even in a situation like this he managed to make you smile without much effort.

“Oh really? I’d like to see this evidence someday, please?”

“Uh yeah sure, but I need to do one thing first…” He inched closer to your face eyes scanning your face. Then he gently kissed you, his hands holding your cheeks like you were a precious gemstone.