#even though it’s a lot of work and takes so much practic

[nolita-fairytale]

hard launch | joaquin torres x fem!reader summary: you and joaquin hard launch at bucky's congressional fundraiser.

warnings: allusions to smut (minors dni), tooth-rotting fluff, lots of flirting, joaquin w/ danny ramirez curls, spoilers for captain america: brave new world, swearing, idiots in love, use of she/her pronouns, mentions of food, friends to lovers

word count: 2.6k

a/n: this takes place in the same world as and for us, it won't be long, but can be read as a standalone piece.

masterlist

You’ve barely knocked twice before the door swings open, revealing one very handsome Joaquin Torres. His curls have grown out since you’ve seen him last, and the way he looks at you takes your breath away. 

“You’re early!” he practically cries, his face lighting up as he takes you in. “You should’ve called me! I would’ve picked you up at the train station.” 

“I wanted to surprise you,” you interject, the sweetest smile on your face as you throw your arms around your boyfriend’s neck. 

“Oh my God, I can’t believe you’re here,” he groans, the feel of your body pressed against his, surreal and perfect. He takes a deep breath, reminding himself of how good you smell, as the two of you remain in his doorway. 

“Your hair!” you cry, running your fingers through his soft curls.

“I need to get it cut. It’s so long,” he shakes his head, though he can’t help the grin that’s permanently, he thinks, spread across his lips. “Don’t! I like it like this,” you tease him flirtatiously, giving his hair a playfully little tug. 

You pull back, just enough to plant one on him, pressing your lips to his. 

“Hi, baby,” you say softly, your heart practically melting.

He kisses you once more, this time for just a little longer than your last one. 

“Hi, mi corazon. It’s so fuckin’ good to see you,” he sighs, happier than ever as he pulls you in for another tight squeeze. “C’mere.” 

“It’s so good to see you. How was your trip?” you ask him, after Joaquin tugs you into his apartment, insisting that you let him get your bag. 

You listen to him as he explains the majesty of Wakanda, and how absolutely geeked out he got when it came to the tech, as you take in his apartment. It’s much bigger than you expected—and certainly much bigger than yours—your eyes glazing over the large windows that line one of the walls of his living room that look over Washington DC. 

“Holy shit… is there something you’re not telling me. Like are you rich now or what?” you blurt out, unable to hide your surprise. 

He chuckles, shaking his head, your duffle bag in hand as he answers: 

“Uh… no. Sam called in a favor to help me get the place and as for the rest, uh, well… VA loans.” 

“Woah.” He smiles, utterly charmed by the look of awe on your face, the crinkle in the corners of his eyes an indicator of such. 

“Can I give you the tour?” he offers, offering you his hand. “It’s not a huge place but… yeah, it’s nice.” 

You take it, gladly, taking every chance to be connected to the boyfriend who you haven’t seen in a couple of weeks, due to his work trip to Wakanda. You know he’ll have plenty of pictures to show you—of Wakanda, of his new suit, of all the things he got up to—and yet you know there’s plenty of time for that later. 

It hasn’t been very long since his trip to Philly, where a night of reminiscing led to a love confession that’d change the course of your relationship with him forever. 

That, and mind-blowing sex.

He takes you through his kitchen, one he barely uses, even with its long kitchen island that overlooks his spacious living room. Even with how roomy the apartment is, it’s not like it’s much more than a living area and a bedroom, so it’s only a matter of time before you end up there. Joaquin shuffles you through his bedroom door, to find, once again, large city-facing windows with the curtains pushed open. Curiously, you peek through his large bathroom area to catch a look at the adjoining bathroom and walk-in closet. Joaquin places your bag down on the floor of his bedroom, his bed made neatly from years of mastering perfect military corners, with a happy sigh as he watches you explore. 

“Convenient that your bedroom was the very last stop on this tour,” you note, leaning up against the door frame of the ensuite. 

“No ulterior motives, I promise,” he replies, holding his hands up in the air as if to say, ‘I’m innocent.’ “Well,” you take a step forward, especially now that his hands are free. “Maybe I have ulterior motives.” 

“Oh yeah?” he chuckles, a small smirk threatening the corner of his lips as he takes a few more steps towards you. “Yeah. You see,” you begin, giggling as you feel his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you in so that you’re flush against his body. “It’s just… I sort of have this condition where if I’m in a room with you for longer than five minutes, I have to be naked.” “That’s so funny,” he plays along as you’ve now wrapped your arms around his neck. “ I think I have the same condition.” “Oh my god, I wonder if we’ll be included in the same medical study,” you let out a false gasp.

He shakes his head again, crashing his lips against yours, determined to spend the rest of the afternoon making you fall apart with his hands, his mouth, his cock, till neither of you can think straight. It doesn’t take long before he’s pulling you down on top of him, leading the both of you to his bed so that he can do just that. 

*

“You don’t think it’s too much skin?” you ask, suddenly shy, as you stare at your reflection. 

The silky, sage green, floor length dress that you wear, is deceptively modest at first glance: a high neck halter cut that shows an obscene amount of back with how low it dips, with the sweetest little button detail trailing down your low back. 

“Holy shit. You are so out of my league,” is all Joaquin manages to get out, as soon as he sees you. 

“Just answer the question, loverboy,” you tease him, turning towards him. 

Joaquin’s barely dressed, save for a black pair of trousers, in all of his shirtless glory—his hair, at least, styled. It’s his turn this time to lean up against the door frame of the ensuite as he looks you over, his words caught in his throat, like he didn’t just give you some of the best orgasms of your life mere hours ago. 

“I think…” he trails off, at a loss for words at how beautiful you are. He scratches the back of his head as he takes his time, searching for the right ones. “... that it’s just right, babe. People get all kinds of dressed up for these kinds of things. It’s-, you’re perfect.” 

“I-,” you chuckle, especially in regards to his final words. “... doubt that I’m perfect. I just mean, well, I don’t want it to be… you know… too sleazy or anything. I know it's an important fundraiser for Bucky.” 

“Well, if you ask me, I think you’re gonna help Bucky raise more money,” Joaquin flirts with you, a little more confident in his ability to tell you exactly what he thinks of how stunning you look. “Hell, I’d be halfway to giving up my life’s savings if I saw you at one of these things.” 

“Well, then it’s a good thing I’m going as your date,” you flirt back. “Can’t have that.” And then. “Okay, but you need to get dressed! Didn’t you just say that Sam said the car’s gonna be here soon?” 

“Ah shit. Yeah, give me like five minutes,” he swears, hurrying back into his walk-in closet for the rest of his suit. 

In all the time you’ve known him, Joaquin Torres hasn’t been the most punctual human—outside of, you can only imagine, his commitments in the military. But of course, that’s not the version of him you’ve known your entire life. The Joaquin you know is the one that’s always thirty minutes to an hour late to the function, so you know you have to keep him on a timeline. 

You dig through your bag for the pair of heels you plan on wearing tonight, then make your way out to the living room to give him some space to finish getting ready. You take your time making sure that you have everything you need packed in your clutch—your phone, your ID, and lip gloss—before beginning to put on your shoes. 

You smell him first, having walked through a cloud of cologne he's sprayed, before hearing a shuffle of footsteps till he’s standing in front of you, dressed fully in an all-black suit. It takes everything you have in you not to let your jaw fall on the floor. 

“Told you I could get ready fast,” he smirks, unaware of the effect he has on you. 

You’re still figuring out how to metaphorically pick your jaw up off the floor as you rise to your feet, your lips beginning to curl into a smile. 

“You should only wear this,” you compliment him, feeling like your heart might burst out of your chest. 

“You like?” he asks, his eyes lighting up. “I love,” you emphasize, as you make your way towards him. 

“Good, because it’s my best and only suit,” he sighs, feigning relief. 

“Well, I don’t know if it’s your best,” you reply, cheekily. 

He shoots you a questioning look and you’re quick to remind him that your personal favorite suit is the one he was born in. 

“Ah yes, my very best suit,” he agrees with a chuckle. “Can’t exactly go out in that. Now that would be too sleazy.”

“Hell of a way to help Bucky raise campaign funds,” you tease him, joking along with your fine ass boyfriend. 

“Lucky for you, and only you, you’ll get to see me in both this weekend,” he winks in your direction, outright flirting with you. 

You smile. 

Because you know it’s true: 

You’re the luckiest, to get to be loved like this. 

"We should eat something before we go. There's never any real food at these things," Joaquin states, heading towards the kitchen area. "Oooooh! We should totally pick up a pizza on the way home," you suggest.

"Ugh, my girl thinks of everything," he grins, as reaches for a bag of white bread on top of his fridge.

You giggle together over PB&J sandwiches before Joaquin gets a text from Sam that says something along the lines of:

Car’s here, lovebirds. 

*

You ride with Sam and Joaquin in the car Bucky sent for the three of you, mostly observing the way Joaquin interacts with his friend and mentor with ease, practice, and the charm you’ve known your entire life. You wish you could say the same for yourself, but this all feels so new to you, especially as you stand next to your boyfriend, clinking glasses and making small talk with some of the most important people in Washington. 

“Sam, I mean. Captain America, sir. I-,” you stammer out, still navigating how starstruck you feel as you stand in front of Thee Captain America. 

“I told you. You can call me Sam. In fact, I insist,” he reminds you, his voice gentle yet certain as he tries to put your nerves at ease. 

“Yes, sir. I mean, Sam,” you smile, this time with a little more confidence. 

“And what do we have here,” you hear a voice say, as Buck Barnes approaches the three of you. You watch as Sam and Joaquin exchange hugs and greetings with the man of the hour before his attention turns to you. 

You introduce yourself, followed by a firm handshake from Bucky. 

“Bucky, this is my girlfriend,” Joaquin introduces you, at the same time that Sam adds:

“The kid’s girl.” 

“Wow,” Bucky marvels, his eyes darting from you to Joaquin, then back to you, before, with a laugh, declaring, “You are so out of his league. It's great to finally meet you.” 

“Buck,” Sam says, something warning in his voice.

“That’s what I said!” Joaquin exclaims, throwing his hands up in the air, feeling more vindicated than ever. You laugh, “Ehhh, I think I got pretty lucky with this one. Just had to put up with him being a pain in my ass all through our childhood.” 

“Well, you’ll be glad to learn that nothing’s changed in the pain-in-the-ass department,” Sam adds, playfully. 

“C’mon, Torres. I got someone I want you to meet,” Bucky announces.

“You good?” Joaquin asks you, his eyes soft. 

You nod, “Of course. Go shmooze, or whatever else it is you guys do at these things.” 

“Don’t worry, Torres. I’ll take good care of her,” Sam ensures, instilling confidence in the both of you with a nod, as Bucky ushers Joaquin away. 

“You look empty. Should we grab another drink?” you ask Sam this time. 

“Sure,” he replies, leading you through the crowd and back to the bar. 

By the time you’re waiting for your drinks, you’ve learned about Sam’s sister, Sarah, and his two nephews. It’s not like you were able to talk much the last time you saw each other, just barely in the same place at the same time, both worried about Joaquin. He’s finishing a story about the best plate in New Orleans, noting that next time he’s back home, you and Joaquin should join him. 

Joaquin catches your eye across the room, as if to check in with you, even though he’s supposed to be chatting up the men in suits Bucky’s introduced him to. When you know the men in suits aren’t looking, you give Joaquin a thumbs up to let him know you’re doing just fine, earning a soft laugh from Sam. 

“Glad to see he’s treating you right,” he says, as if he’s learned all he needs to know from the small interaction. 

“I-, yes. He’s the best,” you reply, halfway to swooning over Joaquin to… well, sort of his boss. 

“Sam,” you start, faking confidence in calling him by his name and not Captain America. “I uh… I never got to thank you. For calling me. You know… to come see Joaquin when he was in the hospital.” 

“Oh, no need to thank me. Seemed like talkin’ to you was making things better. Glad he could have a piece of home with him,” Sam explains with ease. 

“I just-. I don’t know. I don’t know if we’d be here without, well, without, for lack of a better term, parent trapping us,” you continue, half in disbelief that you’re standing here, thanking him for his romantic advice. 

He smiles, realizing what you’re saying, “Seemed like all he needed was a push. The both of you.” 

You smile in return. 

“Yeah, we did.” 

A beat. “Well, shit. Captain America and a matchmaker? What can’t you do?” you joke, taking a more playful approach this time. “Yeahhhh,” he sighs, jokingly. “Gonna add it to my special skills on LinkedIn. Could be the next Hitch. The reboot."

You laugh, agreeing that he'd be an excellent candidate for Hitch 2, and as you continue your conversation with Sam, it feels like one big step towards becoming a part of this world. It’s certainly not what you pictured for yourself, and yet, standing here with Captain America (who’s quickly becoming your friend, Sam), with the love of your life stealing glances across the room at you, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[dreamescapeswriting]

BTS Reaction || Him Coming Home From Military Service

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - July 2025

⤜MASTERLIST

SEOKJIN:

The whole time during Jin's service, you were waiting for him at home, sending him letters and cute supply drops you knew he loved. He even had a few of your hoodies sprayed in your favourite perfume, so he would always smell you near him. To tease him a little, though, you told him you couldn't get the day off work to meet him on base, and he was understanding of it. But here you were.

Standing at the gates holding a handmade sign for him and a bag full of his favorite snacks for the car ride home. A smirk was on your face as you spotted him coming out from the gates, the moment he saw you your heart picked up. A giant grin spread over Jin's face as he launched himself in your direction, dropping his bag before practically wrapping himself around you in a tight bear hug.

"My beautiful angel, I missed you." He sighs, hiding his face in your neck as he buries himself in you. Taking in a deep breath of your scent needing to have it close to him.

"I missed you too, Jinnie." You whisper, relaxing completely against him as he continues to pull you tightly against his chest, you can feel his heart racing against your chest. 

"Let's get home, I want to cuddle and never move from the sofa again." He groans, kissing you all over your face.

YOONGI: 

Yoongi had been "home" all morning but he'd been busy with press releases and interviews he knew he had to get through before he came to meet you but all he wanted to do was get to you and kiss you. He made his way through the crowd after his last interview when he finally saw you. He wanted to act chill and tough but the moment he saw you he felt his tears building and once you hugged him it was all over. Yoongi eventually broke, tears running down his cheeks as he cried against you.

"I've got you, baby," You whisper, rubbing his back softly as he pushes his face into your shoulder. All he wanted was to bury himself under the covers and get lost in you all over again.

"My person. My home." He whispers in relief. You attempted to pull back from him but he clung to you a little longer. 

Yoongi didn't say a lot at first but all of his actions - refusing to let you go, constantly holding your hand, and cuddling to you. As well as slow dancing to playlists he made when he was doing his services - screamed actions of love that he had for you. 

HOSEOK: 

Jhope knew you were unsure if you were going to be able to make it to him coming out from the base but he wasn't angry. Things were chaotic at the minute with people being discharged and the media wanting a piece of him. He'd just finished talking with the media and was going through to a private area of the base to find his family but he saw you. Standing beside his mother talking to one another he felt the tears burning in his eyes,

"jagiya!" He yells as he sprints toward you, you barely have a chance to turn around before you stumble backward, J-hope wrapped himself around you.

"You have no idea how much I missed you," He cries, tears streaming down his face as he holds your face in his hands. As if he was trying to commit all of you to memory and you giggle through the tears.

"I missed you too, sunshine." You whisper before kissing him softly. His sister laughs a little as she looks at the scene in front of her,

"I think he missed you a lot more than he missed us," She teased before Hoseok opened one of his arms to bring her into the group hug.

The whole ride home he refused to let go of your hand, constantly looking at you like he couldn't believe you were real.

NAMJOON:

It was almost four in the morning but you were waiting outside, wrapped in a large coat and holding two hot drinks one for you and one for Namjoon. The man you had been waiting 21 months for this and you knew Namjoon was going to need a warm drink this early in the morning.

You watch as he slowly walks out, his eyes locking with you as he gives you the softest smile, walking over and hugging you closely to him.

"I missed you more than words can say," he says as he kisses your cheek, taking the warm drink from your hands and sighing as he takes a long sip.

"I missed you too, baby, I've planned our day. You're going home, you're going to sleep, and I'll take care of your washing and food." You said as you stroked your thumb over his cheek, you could see just how tired he was and it broke your heart a little. But now he was home and you intended on taking very good care of him.

That night while you were finishing his washing you found a notebook, all the things I want to tell Yn. Was written on the front and it was pages full of all his thoughts, dreams, and things he wanted to do while he was doing his service.

Written on the inside of the book was a list of dates he planned to take you on.

JIMIN:

Jimin finally got home after a day full of interviews and signings that he'd been asked to go to when all he really wanted was to go home to you, the one who had been waiting for him for the last twenty-one months.

As soon as he walked into the house he could smell kimchi stew cooking and the sound of soft music filled the air. He slowly dropped his bag onto the floor and made his way to the kitchen, you were dancing around in an apron to one of his songs making him smirk to himself. Watching you as you cooked for him and sang the lyrics back,

"I've thought about this moment every single day," he chuckles finally bringing you out of your daze, squealing as you threw yourself at him. Crying into his shoulder as he clung to you, not wanting to let go in fear of you suddenly disappearing in front of him.

Later in the night, you fell asleep curled up to him, with him whispering,

"Thank you for waiting for me."

TAEHYUNG:

You were waiting for him, dressed in one of the hoodies he'd sent home for you and holding a bouquet of red roses for him, smiling so wide your cheeks were starting to hurt as you waited for him to get over to you. The area was filled to the brim with loved ones waiting for their person to come home and you just waited patiently for him.

As soon as he reached you he held your face in his hands and smiled so wide you could cry,

"You look like a dream, baby...My dream," he says as he reaches into his pocket, pulling out a gold chain with a rose charm on it as he smirks seeing the same red roses in your hands for him.

"I found this when we had a weekend off, I instantly knew I had to get it for you," He says as he carefully adds it around your neck and smiles seeing it sit perfectly against your skin.

JUNGKOOK:

You had expected Jungkook to be busy when he finished his service but he told you he would meet you first if you were going to wait outside of the base. You'd barely gotten there before you heard him screaming your name and watched him sprinting full speed troward you. Running like you were the only person int he world he wanted to see. He hugged you so tightly you were sure it knocked trhe wind right out of you.

"I love you. I love you...F-Fuck, I love you, I missed you so damn much," he cries, holding you tightly against him as you let out a soft laugh, cuddling into him.

"I love you too, baby. I missed you so much more," You say to him as you breathe in his scent, truly missing everything about him.

The whole ride home he couldn't stop staring at you, touching your hands or face like he was afraid you were going to vanish right before him. As you drove he got teary over how much you'd stayed the same, your scent, your smile, the way you said his name, and the way you laughed at something he said.

"I'm finally home, we're together again," He states with a smile.

a/n: just something random I wrote while i was bored

[sevsevteen]

first i just want you to know your works give me comfort 🥹 can i please ask a request a fic abt the boys being worried and basically just taking care of reader bc they sprained their ankle… i sprained my ankle 3 days ago and it still hurts so bad 😭

hello sweets~ i'm so sorry to hear that 💔 please get well soon !! REST UP & DRINK LOTS OF WATER !!! thank you for the compliment teehee this one is for you anon 😚

-- જ⁀➴°⋆

You never thought a sprained ankle could earn you royal treatment.

Two days ago - a bad landing during choreography run-through had landed you to where you were now. One second, you were spinning through the eight count, and the next, the world tilted as a sharp pain shot through your ankle, sending you straight to the floor with a cry.

Since then, you were banished from practice for the rest of the week, doctor’s (more like seungcheol's) orders. A sprain. Nothing serious, they said. Just rest, ice, and no unnecessary movement.

But apparently, to the members, that translated to: You are not allowed to lift a single finger.

The moment you woke up the next morning, Dino was already crouched by your bedside with a tray. “Rise and shine, it's time for breakfast.”

“Chan-ie, I can get up, you don’t have to—”

“Nope.” He waved a spoon in your face. “The hyungs specifically said you are not allowed to get out of bed.”

Seungkwan, from the doorway, chuckled at your confused expression.

Later in the afternoon, Joshua brought you coffee, Jeonghan fluffed your pillows every other hour, and Jun kept popping into your room every hour with a “need anything?” expression like he was your butler in training.

The only time you tried to stand and hobble to the bathroom, Seungcheol caught you mid-hop and lifted you to the bathroom like you weighed nothing.

“You guys know I’m not dying, right?” You muttered, cheeks red.

“That’s what you think,” Vernon said in passing, heading for the kitchen. “You almost gave us a heart attack in practice.”

Woozi appeared briefly to drop off your ice pack when you were back in bed - grumbling that if you kept dancing like you had a death wish, he was going to write you out of the next song entirely.

Minghao, too, spent the evening sitting beside you on the floor with a coloring book he claimed was for “mental rest,” though he kept handing you pages and not letting you use the black marker because he “wasn’t finished with it yet.”

It was chaotic, smothering, and oddly touching.

You lay back on the couch as Seokmin carefully adjusted your blanket, while Seungkwan passed you the TV remote - one the both of them used to fight over all the time.

"You’re all too much," you mumbled, heart full despite the ache in your ankle.

“Too much?” Jeonghan gasped. “We cancelled our date with Hyungwon for you.”

“It was Hoshi’s idea,” Seokmin whispered behind his hand.

“Okay, who’s on lunch duty?” Seungcheol clapped his hands. “She needs protein.”

“Why don’t we just keep her injured forever?” Mingyu grinned. “I haven’t seen everyone this helpful in months.”

“Eh?—”

.

It was 2:36 am, the dorm was quiet - a rare, sacred kind of quiet that you'd enjoyed after everyone spent a whole day fussing over your injury. Every member was out cold, sprawled across the couch, beds, mouths open and breathing soft.

You blinked up at the ceiling from your bed, the ache had simmered, dull, but still persistent. It wasn’t the pain keeping you up, though.

It was the hunger.

You’d skipped dinner, too tired to eat earlier, and now your stomach growled loud enough to make you flinch. You checked the clock again and sighed.

Too late to call anyone, too early to wait for breakfast.

The snacks on your shelf had long disappeared - thanks to Dino and Seokmin’s late-night cravings the day before.

You sat up slowly, biting your lip. Your ankle twinged, still tender under the wrap. They’d kill you if they knew you had gotten up. But were you supposed to just starve?

Your stomach answered with another growl.

“…Sorry, guys,” you muttered under your breath.

With the stealth of tip-toes and socks, you slipped on a hoodie, stuffing your wallet into its pocket. Masked up, you slowly limped to the front door, holding your breath with each step.

You avoided the creaky floorboard outside Hoshi’s room, opened the door quietly with a prayer, and finally slipped out into the night.

The cool air hit your face instantly.

You tugged your hood low and made your way down the street toward the nearest CU convenience store.

The moment you stepped inside, the fluorescent lights greeted you like a long-lost friend. You sighed in relief, heading straight to the ramen aisle.

“Come to me,” you whispered, cradling the cup noodles like it was sacred.

Ten minutes later, you sat outside the store on the bench, steaming ramen on the table, an apple juice beside you, and a triangle kimbap for dessert. You reckon you’d regret it in the morning when your face puffs up, but your soul was at peace.

That is…until a low voice broke the silence.

“You really thought we wouldn’t find out?”

You froze mid-slurp, looking up.

Standing in front of you under the lights were four very familiar silhouettes. Seungcheol. Wonwoo. Mingyu. And Dino, still in pajama pants and slippers, arms crossed with a pillow mark on his cheek.

“…Oh, hi.”

“No,” Seungcheol said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Don’t ‘hi’ us.”

“I was hungry,” you argued. “I didn’t want to wake anyone!”

“And we said you’re not supposed to be walking without help,” Mingyu said, already crouching to check your ankle.

“She limped out the front door like no one would notice,” Dino mumbled, rubbing his eyes. “I heard her. Thought it was a ghost.”

You sulked, blowing on your noodles. “…You’re all so dramatic.”

But even as they nagged - taking turns throwing away the trash, and insisting on piggybacking you home - you couldn’t help but grin.

They were dramatic.

And you were so glad they were.

--

[gingerteawrites]

HEADCANONS: JJK MEN WITH A SUPER SMART PARTNER

A/N: Had this thought while watching a random Youtube video so let's all dive down my silly little thoughts. I don't write in this kind of format often, so do let me know if you like it.

Content: Nanami x reader, Gojo x reader, Geto x reader, headcannons, gender neutral.

NANAMI KENTO

I know there's a lot of Nanami x bimbo-ish reader content out there. And while it definitely makes for some delicious delulu fuel, I am so convinced that Kento would prefer to be with someone who at least somewhat challenges him intellectually.

I can just picture it: The first time he heard you passionately go on about a deeply philosophical concept, or that one time you broke down a really hard topic you're super knowledgeable about, he felt his heart skip a beat.

If your area of expertise is not something he's familiar with, he'll find himself researching bits and pieces during his work breaks and then bring them up to you in conversation.

Of course, this absolutely delights you, and he can't decide if he prefers the twinkle in your eyes when you get lost in conversation, or the curve of your lips when they're pulled into a serious frown while you ponder his words.

Nanami, in my opinion, is also a huge "my partner" kind of guy, but in an amazing way. All of his co-workers that know him a bit know two things.

One, he's in a committed relationship. And two, his partner is super smart.

He doesn't even try to bring you up to people, the words just slip out and he finds himself making a comment along the lines of:

"My partner studied this in university, they're so knowledgeable about the field." or "I do not understand much of the topic, but I can ask my partner and get back to you later."

He cherishes your intelligence as in integral part of who you are, and is always rooting for you throughout all of your intellectual endeavors.

GOJO SATORU

Nothing anyone tells me will change my mind. At his core, Satoru is just a happy idiot that's kind of surprised he managed to bag you.

I know it might seem suprising, given that he practically has the confidence of a bigoted white man who thinks he's smart because he makes controversial political opinions (even though we all know our blue-eyed king would never be a bigot).

But trust me, sometimes he sees you locked in your own little world, musing on about some profound topics and he wonders how you even found him interesting at all.

All that to say he thinks you being smart is the best thing ever, and has 100% made comments about your sexy brain before.

As a natural consequence of this, Gojo uses you as his living encyclopedia, even if the questions he has are wildly out of your domain of expertise.

"Say, ____, exactly how much straw would it take to break a camel's back?"

"How much sugar can I eat before risking going into a coma?"

You might think that he's really just trying to mess with you, but no. Satoru genuinely thinks you're the smartest cookie on the planet and you know the answer to everything.

"I mean, shouldn't you be happy I'm asking you instead of that AI bullshit?" he says once, his head buried in your lap while you were reading a book. And you kind of have to concede. Maybe he was right.

I guess you just have to become the world's top expert in every field possible to become your boyfriend's very own AI assistant.

GETO SUGURU

In my opinion, Suguru is one of the smartest characters in the JJK verse. He's an expert in manipulation and has spent a lot of time diving into different philosophical thoughts and things like anthropology and sociology.

So of course, he would be delighted to have a partner who has a high intellect and with whom he can have deep conversations and theorize about life. He's probably huge on Eastern philosophy so after the first conversation you guys have about Buddhism and Shintoism, he's almost ready to go down on one knee.

On the other hand, I feel like if he had a partner who excelled in a more STEM aspect of things, he would be so very eager to listen to you and learn about your interests.

Whether it's sitting down and acting as an audience for when you practice presentations (and actually asking pretty thought-provoking questions), or inquiring about a concept that he knows you understand very well. Suguru will always try to match your energy with the things that you like.

I also feel like he'd be so into study dates, and generally be an amazing study buddy. The kind that brings all the good snacks to the session and keeps side conversations to only when both of your brains are starting to need a break. He would be the type of person you could sit in silence with for hours and both do your own thing, and then go get chocolate treats later because you read somewhere that it improves memory.

All to say he's completely enamored with you and you'd make one killer of an academic duo.

And that's all I have for you today, folks

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated (❁´◡`❁)

[saturns-peachy-honeymoon]

just being neighborly

summary: darry helps his new neighbor move in. 

content: darry x neighbor!/honey!reader, the curtis brothers, light profanity

word count: 1734 words

a/n: this series takes place about a year after the book, so the characters are a little older (Darry 21, Soda 17, Pony 14 going on 15, so on…) 

Darry shook his head as he approached the woman, who he could only assume was his new neighbor, as she attempted to carry a box that was nearly half her height. 

“You need help, ma’am?” He called out, not wanting to catch you off guard.

You laughed, face concealed by the large cardboard box in your arms, “Ma’am? Wow, I guess I really oughta wear more makeup.” You readjusted the box in your hands before continuing, “I really appreciate the offer, but I’m fin-” 

As the words left your lips, you began leaning dangerously forward. Darry, not feeling like prolonging the inevitable, lifted the box from your hands, “Yeah, it sure looks like you’re-” his remark got cut off when his eyes landed on you. 

You were bright-eyed with a soft smile and had gentle wisps of hair falling into your face. And despite appearing to be near his age, your face had a kindness to it that hadn’t yet been tainted by the world. 

“Fine,” He finished his thought after a moment, desperately trying to pull himself together. What in God’s name was a girl like you doing on the East side of Tulsa? 

“I just don’t wanna put you out.” You smiled micheviously before teasingly tacking on a “sir” to the end of your sentence. 

Darry feigned a wince, “Ouch.”

You teased good-naturedly, picking up a smaller box before leading him into your home, “Makes ya feel old, don’t it?” 

You have no idea, he thought to himself. 

Your baby blue Plymouth Barracuda was filled to the brim with cardboard boxes. Darry spent nearly five full minutes trying to convince you that he didn’t mind helping before you finally relented. A short while later, you and Darry (mostly Darry) had hauled every item into your home, having polite conversation as you worked. 

“I seriously don’t know how I can thank you enough, Darry.” You fiddled with the straps of your paint-stained overalls nervously. You had been warned about the kind of guys that lived on this side of town, but Darry was nothing like what everyone had been telling you to avoid.

He smiled down at you, “Just bein’ neighborly. You ever need anything, you know where to find me.”

“Right back at ya.” 

And that was that. Darry walked back to his home armed with the assumption that he’d probably see you here and there until you eventually realized you were too good for this town or married some soc. With looks and personality like yours, he knew it was only a matter of time until someone swept you off your feet and waltzed you out of his life forever. 

That’s what so damn surprising. 

There you were sitting at his kitchen table, the tray of brownies you had brought as a thank you for his help sitting on his stove top for dessert. Sodapop was chatting your ear off about everything there was to do for fun in this two-stoplight town (not that there was much). Meanwhile, despite your presence, Ponyboy was nose deep in a book.

“Ponyboy, put the book down, will ya? We got company.” 

Pony mumbled an apology as he put down his worn copy of Macbeth. 

You smiled softly at him, “School or pleasure?” 

He cocked an eyebrow curiously, “Pleasure?” 

“Smart boy. I loved that play when I was your age. I actually still do. How far in are ya?” 

“Act 2, Scene 2.” 

“No wonder you didn’t wanna put it down!” You mused, “You’ll have to tell me what you think when you finish it.” 

Pony was practically beaming, “I will.” He nervously tapped a fork at his chicken before asking, “Lady Macbeth is just… a lot ain’t she?” 

You giggled, “That’s certainly one way to put it. She ain’t Juliet Capulet, ya know? But honestly, I find her fascinating. Her ambition, even though it can make her fairly ruthless, is remarkable. Women at that time, even more so than now, were completely defined by the status of their husbands. So seeing her using her femininity and wit to manipulate her husband was really her only way to advance, at this point in her life.” 

Soda smirked at Darry, eyebrows raised as if to say, “Would you look at that?” As you and Ponyboy continued to excitedly analyze the complexities of Lady Macbeth. Darry’d be lying if he said it didn’t bring a smile to his face to see someone be able to join Pony in his dreamy little world. 

The dinner continued on in a similar fashion. Pony and you gushing about books, Soda chatting your ear off, and Darry just kind of listening. 

“So what brought you to Tulsa?” Darry asked, finally voicing the question that had been on his mind since he met you. 

“Needed a new start,” you answered easily.

“Ya running from the law or something?” Sodapop teased, grabbing a second serving of the double fudge brownies you had brought over. 

You giggled, “No, no. Nothing like that. My great aunt left me her house when she passed a couple of months ago, and I don’t know, I just saw the opportunity to start fresh. I got a job at the daycare center, and I guess that’s all I really needed to take the plunge.”

“Daycare center, huh?” That would’ve been Darry’s worst nightmare. He had enough responsibility with Ponyboy and Soda; he couldn’t imagine being in charge of 20+ toddlers for hours on end. 

“Yeah, I love those little stinkers. And since I’m too young to have any of my own, I figured, why not? Besides, it’ll look great on my applications once I start applying for teaching jobs,” 

“You’re gonna be a teacher?” Pony asked curiously.

“Hopefully. Just have to get this degree first,”

“How old are you?” 

“Ponyboy, you know better than to ask a woman that,” Darry snapped. 

Electing to ignore Darry’s warning, you answered jokingly, “Twenty. But I’ll be twenty-one in a couple of months. I’m practically decrepit.” 

Soda laughed, “Then Darry must have one foot in the grave!”

“Careful, Little Buddy, that means this old man still has one foot to kick that smart mouth into next week,” Darry threatened despite the smile spreading across his face. 

“You’d have to catch him first, grandpa,” Ponyboy chimed in cheekily. 

“So, I gotta ask,” Sodapop started, his attention turning back to you. “How would your boyfriend feel about you having dinner with two greasers and a geriatric?” 

Sodapop was a lot of things: charming, caring, confident, but he sure as hell wasn’t subtle. He was smirking like a madman and had the audacity to nod at Darry, like he had just made checkmate. Ponyboy, no doubt equally amused by the situation, kept darting his gaze between you and Darry. Darry’s fingers practically twitched with the urge to slam their heads together. 

Either you hadn’t caught on to Soda’s intentions or were just polite enough to feign ignorance, cause you responded with even (if not slightly embarrassed), “I don’t have one. But I’d like to think if I did, he wouldn’t mind too much.” 

Sodapop smiled like the Cheshire Cat, “You lookin’ for one?” The second she steps out that threshold, he’s dead meat, Darry thought to himself. 

“Can’t say I am.” Darry tried to ignore the way his chest deflated a little at your words, listening as you continued, “But I wouldn’t say no if Prince Charming walked in and tried to sweep me off my feet.” 

“Ya know, Darry was mighty charming back in his day,” Soda responded smoothly. Dead, he’s dead and buried. 

“Is that so?” Yeah, you definitely knew what Soda was trying to do.

“Cross my heart.”

“Well, I can’t say I’m surprised,” you smiled, somehow both genuine and teasing. 

Pony, either in an act of mercy for Darry or preservation for Sodapop, spoke up, “Soda, don’t you have the night shift?” 

“Shit!” The middle boy rushed out of the kitchen, before backpeddling to say goodbye, “It was real nice meeting ya. Don’t be a stranger!” 

“Darry, can I?” Pony asked, picking up his book again. 

“Yeah, go ahead,” he sighed. 

Ponyboy quickly said goodbye before going to stretch on the couch with his book. With the boys gone and your plates clear, you rose from your seat and began collecting the dishes.

“I hope you don’t think I’m gonna let you do the dishes,” Darry started, reaching out to take them from your hands.

“You cooked, it’s the polite thing to do.”

“You’re our guest.”

“As your guest, I insist.” 

“How bout this, I wash, you dry? Final offer.” He could tell you weren’t going to budge, but there was no way in hell he was gonna watch you do the dishes in his house.  

“Sold!” 

The two of you stood in front of the sink, with just the sound of the water running, his large calloused fingers occasionally brushing yours as he’d pass you each dish. He was quieter than his younger brothers, not quite in the same shy and thoughtful way as Ponyboy, but almost stoically, like his voice would somehow break whatever peace had been building. 

Growing tired of exchanging glances and slight brushes of hands, you spoke up, “You got a real nice family here. The boys are just…” You fumbled for a word to describe just how endearing you found the brothers. 

“They’re somethin’, that’s for sure,” Darry offered. “Thanks for, um, indulging them. I know they can be a lot. We can be a lot.” 

“Well, I think y’all are wonderful. Pony’s smart as a whip, I can already tell Soda’s the life of the party, and you are so very kind, Darry.”

Kind. You thought he was kind. Darry couldn’t remember a time in his life when the first thing that came to mind when describing him was kind. Strong, athletic, smart, logical, and cold, sure. But kind? That was a first. 

“I am so very lucky to have moved in across the way from you boys,” You said, placing your hand over his and squeezing it slightly before releasing him. You set the final dish in the cupboard before turning back to him, “Well, I oughta get going, I have a long day of painting tomorrow.”

“You need any help?” Darry offered before he could even stop himself. 

“I couldn’t possibly ask you to do that for me.” 

He shrugged, “Just being neighborly.” 

series masterlist <3

[deansbeer]

HIIII idk if u remember me but i dm'ed u about ur 40s!dean bot couple of months ago or smth(⁠T⁠T⁠) love ur works and bots queen!!!

so since ur reqs are open now i wanna ask if u have any thoughts on young jensen like in his late teens-early 20s because im wild about him in this era. fluff or smut doesn't matter I'll eat anything with this man on it

hi, sweet angel, i do remember you!! thank you so sooo much 🤍 since you gave me free will, i paired him up with model!reader, since i feel the 90s were very fashion and modeling centered (???) i don’t know lmaoo, but yeah <3

warnings 𓏵 smut | fluff | mentions of alcohol | industry pressures | struggling times | intimidation/nervousness around successful people | semi-public sex | period-typical 90s stuff (?) | oral sex (both f&m receiving) | overstimulation | car sex. (i’m definitely missing some, but i’m too tired to check)

[ cutesy type shit ]

you meet jensen at some industry mixer in a cramped west hollywood penthouse, the kind where everyone’s trying too hard to look like they’re not trying at all. he’s nursing the same beer all night because he can’s afford another one, wearing a dark flannel that’s seen better days over a white tee. when someone introduces you as “that girl from the guess campaign,” he gets this deer-in-headlights look before recovering with ”oh cool, i think i saw that on sunset boulevard.” (he definitely stared at that billboard every time he drove past it).

he’s so broke in those early days, like scary broke. you catch him at craft services during a modeling gig where he’s doing background work, loading up napkins with bagels and fruit “for later.” instead of calling him out, you just start inviting him to lunch after shoots. he always protests at first — “nah, i’m good, i got...” — until you say it’s your treat. his pride takes a hit but his empty stomach wins.

jensen’s got this beat-up toyota corolla that makes concerning noises when it turns left. you’re used to drivers and being driven around, but there’s something charming about him picking you up for dates in his piece of shit car, apologizing when he has to slam the door three times to get it to close properly. “sorry, she’s temperamental. like an old cat.” the radio only gets two stations clearly — classic rock and spanish — so you learn all the words to the songs that had a catchy tune or beat whether you wanted to or not.

he lives with three other aspiring actors in a two-bedroom apartment. the first time you come over, he spends twenty minutes frantically cleaning, which apparently just means shoving everything into closets and spraying an entire can of febreze. his roommate walks out in boxers halfway through your movie date and jensen looks like he wants to die. “dude, i told you she was coming over!” “oh shit, this is her? nice.”

watching him at auditions is painful in the sweetest way. he practices his lines in the car beforehand, running them over and over until you have them memorized too. when he comes out and you ask how it went, he always shrugs and says “probably terrible”even though you know he nailed it. the day he books his first real speaking role (two lines on sweet valley high), he picks you up and spins you around in the parking lot.

he intimidated by your modeling career at first, not in a macho way but in a “what are you doing with me?” way. you catch him looking at your magazine spreads with this expression like he can’t quite believe you’re real. “you know you could date like... actual famous people, right?” he says one night. you shut him up by kissing him senseless. he never brings up the topic again. and if he does, it’s because he loves when you slam your lips on his as a way of shutting him up.

jensen writes his parents these long letters every sunday, telling them he’s doing great, bookings are rolling in, everything’s perfect. you watch him carefully craft these lies with the sweetest intentions, not wanting them to worry. when he finally books days of our lives, the first person he calls is his mom. you can hear her crying in glee through the phone.

he’s weird about money in that prideful small-town texas boy way. when you try to pay for dinner at nice places, he gets this look like you’ve physically wounded him. you learn to be sneaky about it — “accidentally” leaving your card at the bar, telling him you have a gift certificate that’s “about to expire” he knows what you’re doing but eventually stops fighting it.

late nights at denny’s become your thing. 2am grand slams after you wrap a shoot, him coming from waiting tables at some beverly hills restaurant where they make him wear a lil’ bow tie. he does impressions of the customers, you tell him about the photographer who made everyone do nude yoga, and somehow these fluorescent-lit conversations feel more romantic than any fancy date ever.

the way he looks at your portfolio is different from how other guys in the industry do. instead of that calculating, “what can you do for me” gaze, he studies each photo like it’s art. asks about the locations, the photographers, if you were cold during that beach shoot. he remembers every detail you tell him!

when he’s learning lines, you help him run scenes. you’re terrible at it, of course, making him break character and laugh when you dramatically overact the nurse or secretary role. “baby, that’s not... i’ve never heard anybody talk like that.” “excuse me, i'm giving you range.” he starts requesting you specifically as his scene partner, swearing you’re his good luck charm. and he never ever criticizes your bad acting, always finding it amusing.

jensen gets star-struck in the weirdest ways. not by the big names but by working character actors he recognizes from childhood shows. “holy shit, that’s the guy from murder she wrote!” he’ll whisper-yell in your ear at catering, making you giggle. but when actual celebrities hit on you at parties, he just gets quiet and holds your hand a little tighter.

he keeps every magazine you’re in, even the random catalogs and newspaper inserts. you find them stacked neatly in his closet one day. “it’s not weird,” he defends, ears red. “i just... when you’re famous-famous, these’ll be worth something.” you both know that’s not why he keeps them.

summer days by his apartment complex’s questionable pool become your escape. he’s self-conscious about being pale (tv auditions always want that california tan), so you lie on cheap loungers and quiz him on lines while he slowly burns then freckles. the pool is probably 40% chlorine but it’s free and private-ish, minus the kids doing cannonballs

he practices his headshot poses on you, trying to find his “angles.” you teach him the modeling tricks — how to find his light, the tiny chin movements that make all the difference. he feels ridiculous but listens intently, and when his new headshots book him three auditions in a week, he credits you entirely.

[ freaks come out at night type shit ]

that texas boy thing extends to the bedroom — all “yes ma’am” and polite restraint until you make it clear what you want. then something shifts. he’s got this whole southern gentleman act that dissolves the second you climb into his lap, his hands gripping your hips like he’s been thinking about it all day (news flash, he has).

car sex becomes a necessity when you both have roommates. his Toyota’s backseat is barely big enough but you make it work, windows fogging up in some lonely parking garage at 1am. he jokes about feeling like a teenager until you do that thing with your tongue that makes him forget how to speak.

he’s got a praise kink a mile wide, even if he doesn’t know that’s what it’s called. the first time you tell him how good he feels, how perfect he is, he actually whimpers. gets this desperate look like he needs to hear more, so you tell him exactly what he does to you, how he’s ruining you for anyone else, and he loses it completely.

jensen’s possessive in this quiet, intense way. not jealous of your job — he’d never — but when photographers get too handsy or male models hit on you, you see that jaw clench. that night he fucks you like he’s trying to mark you, sucking bruises low on your hips where they won’t show on camera, making you say his name until your throat turns hoarse.

hotel rooms after your out-of-town shoots become your paradise. he drives hours to meet you in random cities when he can scrape together gas money. shows up tired and scruffy from the road, but the second that door closes, he’s all over you. months of sexual tension worked out on random hotel sheets.

he’s absolutely obsessed with going down south on you, could spend hours between your thighs if you’d let him. gets actually upset when you try to pull him up, mumbling “not done yet, darlin’” against your skin. you learn to just let him have his way, gripping his hair while he takes you apart for the third time.

the first time you blow him in his car after an audition, he nearly puts his fist through the window. “fuck, fuck, baby you can’t— ‘m gonna—” barely gets the words out before he’s coming everywhere, then apologizes for like twenty minutes after. you shut him up by climbing onto his lap and riding him until he stops talking entirely.

he’s surprisingly dominant once he gets comfortable, that whole ‘yes ma’am’ thing morphing into him calling the shots. pins your wrists above your head and makes you beg for what you want. “that’s not very specific, sweetheart. tell me exactly where ya need me.” makes you spell it out while he smirks down at you.

quickies in your agency’s bathroom become risky routine. you on the counter, legs wrapped around his waist, his hand over your mouth to keep you quiet. the thrill of maybe getting caught, ruining both your reputations, only makes it hotter. he always fixes your hair after, makes sure you look perfect before you go back out.

phone sex while he’s working late shifts at that fancy beverly hills restaurant. he huddles in the back alley on his break, whispering filthy things while you touch yourself in your empty apartment. “wish i could see you right now, bet you look so pretty falling apart.” his voice gets rougher when he’s close, forgetting to be quiet. he almost got caught once by his boss who stepped out for a smoke and he played it off as if he were trying to scare away a raccoon he’d found digging in the trash cans outside.

that texas stamina is no joke. young and eager and so focused on making you feel good. recovers stupid fast, ready to go again while you’re still catching your breath. “just gimme five minutes,” you pant. “i can wait,” he says, then proceeds to kiss down your spine until you’re begging for more and more rounda.

he’s got this thing about marking you where others can’t see. loves leaving bruises on your inner thighs, bite marks on your ribs, fingerprints on your hips. gets off on you being at some fancy shoot, knowing what’s hidden underneath all the designer clothes you wore. “think about that when they’re posing you,” he murmurs, admiring his handiwork.

hotel balconies at golden hour become your favorite risk. you in his lap on some tiny chair, sundress hiked up, him trying to keep quiet as you ride him slowly. the city spread out below, chance of being seen from other buildings, his hands bruising your thighs as he fights not to thrust up into you.

he starts getting more confident as pilot season approaches, that nervous energy manifesting in the best ways. fucks you against his apartment door when his roommates are home, hand over your mouth, daring you to stay quiet. takes you in casting office bathrooms, in his car in broad daylight, anywhere he can get you alone for ten minutes.

the night he books his first series regular role, you celebrate in every room of your quiet apartment. kitchen counter, shower wall, living room floor — he’s insatiable, high on success and possibility. keeps saying your name like a prayer, like you’re his breath of fresh air, like he plans to keep you forever. “gonna move us somewhere better,” he promises between kisses. “gonna give you everything.”

you believe him. because in your eyes, jensen can do anything.

[creamiecoups]

Hi lovely,

I recently discovered your blog and I am loving all your works 😍

Can I request a 'just the tip' with Seungcheol 🫶

Looking forward to the next part of conditioned 😍😍

→ PAIRING: seungcheol x female reader

→ WARNINGS: smut, dark themes, dubcon, coercion, readers first time, unprotected sex, forced breeding, creampie, lots of pet names

A/N: didn’t proof read this and it’s 1am so if I forgot any warnings pls let me know and if you don’t want to read it you don’t have to free will is a thing okay bye enjoy this for everyone waiting and especially anon who asked for this <3

The movie was long forgotten.

You’d only meant to lean in for a little kiss — just a little affection — but Seungcheol’s always been greedy.

His hands gripped your waist tighter the second you climbed into his lap, and you felt the subtle, hungry grind of his hips beneath you as his mouth moved over yours with the kind of need that left your head spinning.

It hasn’t even been a month since you started dating. Not long enough, you tell yourself. But the low, deep groan that rumbles from his throat when your hips accidentally shift against his hardening length... the sound alone is enough to make your stomach flutter.

"Baby..." His lips trail hot and slow down the curve of your jaw, pressing against the sensitive spot beneath your ear, then lower, to the column of your throat. "You have no idea what you do to me."

You shudder when his mouth latches onto the crook of your neck, teeth grazing your skin before he sucks hard, marking you with a dark bruise. You feel his cock twitch beneath you, and it makes you ache, though the innocent part of you is still shy, unsure.

“Seungcheol…” your voice barely comes out, breathless, flustered.

His hands slowly slip beneath the hem of your top, and you feel his warm palms splay over your skin, pushing the fabric higher.

“Take this off for me, sweetheart.” His voice is low, husky. “Let me see you.”

You hesitate for only a second, feeling your cheeks burn, but the look in his eyes — so loving, so adoring — makes it impossible to say no. You pull your top over your head, sitting there in just your bra before him, but your arms quickly fold over your chest, shielding yourself.

"Don't hide from me, baby." He tuts softly, fingers tugging at your arms until you drop them, vulnerable beneath his dark gaze. "You're so beautiful... I could spend forever just looking at you."

His hands move to your bra, unclasping it with practiced ease, letting it fall away. The cold air makes you shiver, but his warm mouth soon replaces it, lips latching onto your nipple with a soft moan. He suckles noisily, tongue swirling around the taut bud, and the new sensation sends another moan slipping from your lips, your body trembling slightly in his lap.

"You like that, don't you?" He mumbles against your skin, flicking his tongue again. "You're perfect, baby. So fucking perfect."

You’re too shy to respond, and he notices — of course he notices. He always does.

"Hey." He lifts his head, brushing your hair out of your face. "Want me to take my shirt off too? Might make you feel less nervous, hm?"

You nod, and he peels his black tee over his head, revealing the solid expanse of muscle beneath. Your mouth parts slightly, eyes raking over his toned chest and his strong arms. You lift your hand without thinking, fingers gliding over the bulge of his bicep, and his lips are back on yours in an instant, more desperate and messier than before. His tongue sweeps into your mouth, claiming every inch of you.

You feel him, hard and straining beneath his sweatpants, the thick outline pressing right against your inner thigh. You stiffen, nervous, pulling away slightly.

"Shh," he whispers, noticing the change in you. "It's okay, baby. You’ve been moving around so much... can’t help it. Let me make you feel good, yeah?"

Your heartbeat pounds in your ears as you nod, watching him guide your hands to the waistband of your pants. He helps you push them down, along with your panties, until you’re fully bare, perched on his lap like a trembling little doll.

"Such a good girl," he breathes, fingers grazing over your slick folds. You jolt at the contact, hips twitching, but his touch is gentle, coaxing. "So wet already... all for me angel?"

A whimper leaves you as his fingers tease your clit, barely brushing over it before pulling away, again and again, until you're gasping for air, your thighs clenching around his hand. He slides two fingers through your folds, collecting your slick before raising them to his lips and sucking them clean, groaning deeply.

"Fuck, you taste like heaven," he growls. "I’ll never get enough of you."

A few more minutes pass like this, heavy breaths and sloppy kisses filling the room, until he can’t take it anymore. His cock is painfully hard, throbbing against you.

"Baby," he whispers against your neck, voice strained. "I have an idea... need a little relief too, you know?"

You tilt your head, confused, as he slips his hand beneath your thighs and starts tugging his sweatpants and boxers down just enough to free his cock. You blink, startled, and start to shift away, but he hushes you, pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

"Shh, it’s okay, sweetheart. I just wanna feel you... skin to skin. I promise."

You nod slowly, trusting him, letting yourself sink back into his lap. His cock rests heavy and hot between your folds, the thick tip sliding through your slick, and his hands dig into your waist as he groans low and sharp, his self-control hanging by a thread.

"Baby," he rasps, "can I... can I please just put the tip in? I swear, it doesn’t count. I won’t take your virginity yet. I know you wanna wait, but fuck— I need something, please."

You bite your lip, hesitating. "I... I think it’s still too early."

"Please, baby." His voice is broken, desperate. "I just need the tip. You feel so fucking good. I can’t... I can’t take it anymore."

You finally nod, slowly, and he grips his cock, rubbing the head along your slit until you're slick enough. His other arm snakes around your waist, locking you in place as the swollen tip nudges against your entrance. You flinch at the stretch, nerves flickering across your face.

"Don’t worry, baby," he soothes, kissing your cheek. "It’s not all the way. You’re doing so well for me."

But the way your body clings to him, the little whimpers you let out, the sight of you biting your lip, flushed and needy — it drives him wild. His cock throbs against your folds, precum mixing with your arousal.

"You don’t think I’ll fit, huh?" He chuckles darkly, his voice dipping low. "I have a feeling you’ll take me just fine, baby. A little size training every day and you’ll be perfect."

Your head swims at his words, your body trembling. His cock slides along your slit again, pressing more firmly, and you gasp.

"Ch-Cheol... I could still get pregnant like this."

He lets out a breathy laugh, kissing your shoulder. "That’s cute, baby. Doesn’t count unless I cum inside you... and even then, you’d look so fucking beautiful all knocked up for me."

His tip teases your entrance again, and before you can gather your thoughts, he’s pressing in — just a little — but the heat, the pressure, the stretch has your head spinning. You glance at him, wide-eyed, but he’s staring at you with raw, dark hunger.

And then you make that face — that sweet, fucked-out look, eyes rolling back just slightly, lips parting — and that’s all it takes.

His hands tighten on your waist, and with one hard thrust, he sinks all the way inside you, bottoming out in one shocking, deep stroke. You cry out, the sudden stretch burning, but the overwhelming pleasure drowns it out almost immediately.

"Fuck, baby," he growls into your neck, his voice rough, strained. "I’m sorry... you just felt too fucking good. I couldn’t stop myself."

His hips start moving, hard and fast, fucking into you with an almost animalistic hunger. His mouth is at your ear, voice low and filthy.

"You feel that, baby? How tight your little pussy is, squeezing me so fucking good? God, I’ve been waiting for this. So fucking perfect... made for me."

You cling to him, helpless against the relentless pace, pleasure building sharp and hot in your belly.

"Let go for me, sweetheart," he urges, lips brushing your ear. "Cum for me, baby. I wanna feel it."

And you do — the world blurs as your climax hits, body trembling around him, but even as you whimper, pleading, "Seungcheol, pull out—" he doesn’t.

"Can’t, baby," he groans, jaw clenched tight. "I’ve waited too fucking long for this... your pussy’s too good, can’t pull out now."

His pace turns rough, desperate, until he finally buries himself deep with a broken moan, warmth flooding inside you as his cock throbs, spilling his load in thick, heavy ropes. Your body twitches at the sensation, too exhausted to move, your head falling onto his shoulder as he cradles you, both of you sticky and spent, still connected.

"You did so good for me, baby," he whispers, brushing kisses across your hair. "No more denying me, okay? You’re mine now."

You nod weakly, tears trailing down your cheeks as he nuzzles against you, voice soft and content.

"Just a few more minutes, baby, then I’ll run you a bath. After that... I want you in bed, curled up against me."

And you know he means it. You know this is only the beginning.

[vxnillabxn]

Hello vanilla 🍦!! I absolutely love that you're a zayne girlie and I love your blog fr! I just have a simple request. I'm obsessed with the idea of mc being pregnant and doing her best to hide it from zayne, because she's scared (though it doesn't last too long because he's her doctor). Yes they are In a deep relationship/ very early marriage.

Heres a Lil zayne gift taken by yours truly 😄:

𐙚˙⋆.˚ zayne x fem!reader ꒰੭

𐙚˙⋆.˚ fluff, pregnancy themes, suggestive! ꒰੭

𐙚˙⋆.˚ sfw! ꒰੭

𐙚˙⋆.˚ do not translate/copy/repost! ꒰੭

﹙♡﹚YES GOD! he looks so scrumptious, so deLICIOUS, dare i say scrumptilicious? THANK YOU!! ♡ btw, this contains pregnancy themes, hormonal imbalances and some other things related to that, so keep it in mind!

the honeymoon was marvelous. you two hadn't had the chance to be together for that long, with no work or urgent matters distracting you.

of course, you spent every single second together during that one-month honeymoon, and… it's safe to say you were loved every night.

now, it's only been a short while since you returned home, and that same lovey-dovey atmosphere lingers in the air. he still holds you so tight, takes his sweet time worshipping you, kissing you, caressing you, and he already told you to expect this for the rest of your marriage.

and you believe he means it.

naturally, things tend to happen after loving someone so... deeply. and as you held the positive pregnancy test in your shaky hands, you knew this was a consequence of your now bound love.

you were happy… as happy as you were nervous… and as nervous as you were terrified. it's only natural to have babies once you marry and both agree, right?

but still, you don't exactly feel prepared. or at least, you're afraid this will overwhelm your dynamic, especially since you and zayne are practically newlyweds.

you throw the test away and decide to ignore it for now.

out of sight, out of mind.

when zayne returns from work, you act as if nothing happened. lots of kisses, soft giggles, hand-feeding, massages on his tense shoulders… until you two clumsily head upstairs, lips locked, and take it under the sheets.

as the warmth of your love still lingers between you, he gently kisses your forehead. but you're thinking too much, your face buried against his chest.

he senses something is bothering you, but he also knows you'll come to him when you're ready. so, you both fall asleep, wrapped in each other's arms.

unluckily for you, things soon start to change, though not in your relationship. you two are still perfectly fine.

but you can't stand the smell of your favorite things. they make you nauseous.

irritated, even.

your skin feels different, your mood changes, even your scent shifts.

you have to use oversized clothing, but he's used to you stealing his shirts, so you manage to be sneaky —according to you.

and it's only been a week. yes, just one week, but zayne already notices, even when you think he doesn't. he knows about hormonal changes, so he quietly decides to suggest a few trusted gynecologists when you're ready to talk.

but inside, you're terrified. seeing how tired zayne comes home, noticing how immature you feel for hiding this… suddenly, the idea of becoming a mother feels too real. too soon.

and yet, every time you look down at your belly, you feel this tender pull. there's nothing visible yet, but the thought of carrying a little sprout that shares both your features and zayne's makes you want to sob.

how will you tell him? you'd have to admit you've been hiding it. what if he feels hurt? or worse, disappointed? what if he thinks you don't want this?

your mind spirals. and it just so happens tonight zayne has a night shift, so he won't be home.

you promise yourself you'll tell him when he comes back.

…

but you don't.

the next morning, when he finally comes home by breakfast, he heads straight to bed. by lunchtime, you wake him with a tray in hand, and he thanks you, offering to share.

the dish you made looks beautiful, colorful, and so nutritious… but when the spoon nears your lips, nausea hits.

you rush to the bathroom, and, of course, he follows.

he isn't clueless. he's a doctor. he put two and two together, and got a huge, obvious four. the first time you two had unprotected intimacy? it was six, almost seven weeks ago. the symptoms all point in the same direction.

you're either pregnant… or something else might be wrong.

“i got you, love,” he murmurs, gently pulling your hair back and rubbing your arched back. truthfully, seeing you like this breaks his heart, but if it's because you're pregnant, it makes that heart race with quiet joy.

once you calm down, he helps you wash your face, then cups your cheeks tenderly.

“my love, i don't wish to intrude… but i think it's necessary to buy a pregnancy test, just to check the possible causes.”

poor zayne. if only he knew you already took the test. but as you look away, fidgeting with your hands, his gaze catches it. his brows furrow slightly, and he lifts your chin.

“my love, is there anything you wish to tell me?”

your bottom lip trembles. stupid emotional imbalances.

before you know it, you burst into tears, throwing yourself into his arms.

“i'm sorry, love! i found out ages ago, i thought i could hide it until i felt ready… but the truth is i'm being immature, and i was scared of burdening you with this when your life is already so hectic, and—”

his eyes go wide. gently but firmly, he takes your shoulders.

“breathe in.”

you sniffle and obey, inhaling shakily.

“and out.”

you exhale, and he nods.

“good. now, here's what we'll do; we'll go sit outside, finish lunch, and you'll tell me everything you feel comfortable sharing, alright?”

you nod softly, following his lead.

after an honest, vulnerable conversation, he cups your cheek.

“my love. you know i think you're the smartest woman i've ever met, right?”

you nod, nuzzling into his palm.

“but… truly, you still manage to amuse me with such silly worries,” he sighs, though there's only warmth in his voice as he means no harm.

“i know. i'm sorry, zayne. it all happened so fast. i thought it might change things between us… we're still adapting to being married, and… i don't know.”

he hums, gently pulling you into his lap so you face him.

“tell me honestly. does the idea of having a baby with me make you happy?”

you pause, but then nod.

“yes. i'm scared… but when i think of a mini-zayne growing in my belly, it feels warm and right.”

a small smile softens his face as he kisses your forehead.

“then listen to me. i'm ecstatic to have a baby with you. you and i have overcome so much together. this won't be any different.”

your lips curl into a shy smile, and suddenly, all those fears melt into soft, hopeful images; zayne holding a tiny baby, your baby, baby laughter filling the house, his gaze tender and so full of love… and you, right there with them, just as happy.

after all, this pregnancy is a result of a man who loves you, and who you know will love you eternally. hiding it from him now feels so foolish.

“tomorrow morning, we'll see a gynecologist. you'll need vitamins, a checkup… i've already looked into the best-reviewed ones. our little jasmine will be strong.”

our little jasmine.

your currently tiny sprout.

you nod, hugging him tightly. when his hands gently rub over your belly, it finally feels real. it feels meant to be.

yes, you're still a little scared —and so is he. but together, with this steady love, you know you're invincible.

and your baby will be welcomed by a small, but oh-so-thankful family.

[bewitched-hours]

Why is it always Yan!( Character) Or Yan!( Ship)

NO I wanna be Yandere!

Therefore I request Yan! Ghost Reader x Noob( yep I'm building off of my request)

But is it alright if it's not too dark, like there are traits and some features of a Yandere but it's not like reader's down right toxic and not good for noob. Idk man I love Yan fics but when it's too much it puts me off.

Noob get your ghost wife she's about to strangle two time for the nth time-

OH???? A LITTLE SWITCH UP???? FOR LIL' OLD ME??? Is it christmas-? Also, yeah, I get it. I try to make my version of yanderes more watered down in a sense where it's a bit dark but not off-putting, ya know?

Reader gets She/Her again~

How long has been been now? You didn't care.

You were head over heels for your favourite little survivor and as if sensing your desperation, the Spectre allowed you a deal.

A physical form for all the memories of your life before its realm. You accepted it without thinking and now waited for your beloved in a form that resembled the one you had as a ghost but with a lot more colour to you and no more transparency.

To say Noob was surprised would be an understatement... Especially with how you practically jumped at him.

But how could he blame you when you're head over heels for his cute face? Not that he'd know.

You were even given the abilities and title of a sentinel soon after, surprising the other survivors as you proudly declared yourself to be the ghost that's been haunting them.

Although... You did assure them that they had Noob to thank for your friendliness. He wasn't too happy about being the center of attention but he didn't protest after you shut him up with a quick kiss. It was simply adorable just like him!

You weren't even trying to hide your favouritism everyone pretty much accepted you were just warped by Spectre knows how many years of being stuck in this hell and Noob just so happened to be the unfortunate soul to become the target of your affection.

Sure, you grew to warm up to the other survivors and help them out but even so you spent most of your time by Noob's side like a lost puppy. It was honestly kinda adorable, if not for the way your obsession with him grew deeper and deeper.

He noticed it of course, but he wasn't sure how to bring it up. He loved you back, that much was clear, but he also knew he had to put a line in the sand to make sure you kept a grip on your... Tendencies...

To start off, he had to give you a gentle kiss to make sure you were fully fixated on him. It also acted as a confession of sorts which threw you off and you didn't really know what to do.

"Listen, it's- it's not that I don't like you too but... I just want to make sure this new side of yours doesn't ruin it." You were a little surprised but made sure to listen and didn't interrupt him. You could tell this was important and it was touching that he cared enough to discuss a way for the relationship to work. How does he always find ways to make you love him more...?

"I need to be sure that you have whatever this is under control so I want to find ways to help you stay sane. If you feel jealous or any urges to feel negative because of me or the others, come to me and we can talk about it. If you feel like you need to steal anything of mine, we can talk about it." It went on like that for a bit, though you never even dared to think about not taking him seriously.

Despite what he appeared usually, you knew Noob was someone who delivered on promises and he made sure you knew that while he loved you a lot, he is not staying in a relationship that'll isolate him or creep him out. And you were determined to not force that on him.

True to your mutual promise, you'd go to him whenever that darker part of your brain began whispering those tempting thoughts of what you could do to keep him to yourself. He eventually came to learn how to tell your obsessive moods from your regular negative ones through subtle cues and even when you wouldn't even realize it, Noob would take you aside and reassure you that no one could take him away from you.

You were his... He was yours...

Even if the Spectre wasn't all too happy but it wasn't like your memories hadn't tasted good enough for it to allow this.

You can put your worries to rest... Home is here...

Anything you'd like to request/ask? Check out my pinned post first and I'll be happy to write up whatever you want!

[rosakuma]

First Impressions Off of Ouno Nanae Student 1B!

Hello and happy Tetro Blue prologue day! We kick off the beginning of another wonderful, fun, scary, and most likely going to be depressing season of Tetro! We get to see each of the students everyday from now on during the 30th of June and the rest of July. We of course are starting with our lovely airheaded contortionist Ouno Nanae! I wanted to write down a list of thoughts I felt based on her first appearance(well more of voice debut than physical, that’s not until July 16th).

Starting off with the new background for the video

As we see, Seki updated his monitor and now in a very white space within the plane. This either means the plane entirely is just pure white or this is supposed represent Ouno’s main color White for her.

Also fun detail you can see is that Seki brought one of his personal items from the lab to the plane, being his best dad mug :) .

Its both sweet and sad to see how now Seki stuck in the plane he most likely cannot see his family, thus the only thing left remaining of a reminder of him is this mug that maybe his daughter gave him…..

BUT WHO CARES!? THIS AIN’T ABOUT HIM, LETS GET BACK TO OUR MAIN FOCUS, THAT BEING OUNO NANAE!

So as we see in the footage, Ouno currently up in her room trying to practice a certain position for her act. Feeling that its boring and the audience might not like it. With her is a teenage boy voice by anonymous according to the description.

We can assume this boy is a friend or possible partner of Nanae’s since she trusts and wants him enough to watch her act routine for one of her shows. We know for not a relative though with her referring to her mom and the fact she’ll get all “nosey” if she sees him.

It seems these two are close though with how he tries to tell Nanae her act is really good, she’s just tired of it from doing it multiple times. Perhaps if we get a Ouno Nanae spotlight, we could ask her a question regarding about who he is and what is his relationship with her.

Speaking of potential questions, another one can be asking based on what troupe she works with and her relationship with them! Base on her casting call description though in terms of her being “too trusting due to general naivety”. Perhaps she has a strong bond with her troupe to cause her to put her trust into others like they did for her.

Continuing on, we then have her voice which is very accurate to the casting call description being airy, lifting, and mid to high pitched tone.

Now, I definitely didn't expect her to sound like this but….I LOVE HER OH MY GOD!

She sounds soooo sweet and silly, its so much charm put into it. I gotta say that Rainy Day/Lemon did a wonderful job portraying her! And knowing Von loves to hear her voice, I can’t wait either to hear more of it for her interview and the rest of the series!

I am aware earlier today a lot of people were nasty about judging it since it sounded strange at first. Which btw I know its confirm she just talks like this and it's not a speech impediment or any other issue, but regardless if she had one or not, you should never ever make fun or insult anyone voice. It is disrespectful to the VA and to anyone who sounds like Ouno. Also just plain rude in general. Though please don’t take this as you have to like Ouno’s voice, but just don't make fun it or diss the VA’s voice acting skills if you don’t vibe with it. It might grow on you perhaps and if not, its cool as long we don’t act mean to the VA or anyone who sounds like this.

I will say…I am kinda bummed that Ouno just talks like this regularly and not because of a disability. Mostly because it would’ve been cool to see more representation in Tetro of voice disabilities or even if Ouno herself was deaf like Harada was in Tetro Pink. But oh well, not that we won’t be able to enjoy her character fully and besides, we’ll get more great diverse rep to explore for this cast either way!

We’ll have to wait to see a full grasp on what Ouno will fully be like during the killing game, but I can tell already she seems like she’s going to be one of the sweet characters of the cast. But also might be taken advantage of too(I’m side eyeing you Ikeda YOU BETTER LEAVE HER ALONE-).

Can’t wait for my boy Ninomiya tomorrow! ^^

[casa-dei-corvei]

Your OC in a Modern AU

Tagged by the lovely @rooks-dagger! 💜 Sancha's not as exciting as Ember I fear, but this was a lot of fun! 💜

Rules: Share what your OC's life would be like in a Modern AU. This could include their job, hobbies, style, overall vibe, etc. Feel free to include photos and explain your choices, then tag some friends to play along!

Almost forgot to tag people so I'm gonna (no pressure) tag: @pixiedurango, @cute-ellyna, @rook-de-rivas, @suntamer, @crushedv3lv3t, @basedonconjecture & @rooks-dagger 💜

Sancha Favero of House de Riva

Dancer, Assistant Instructor, "Babysitter"

Puting everything under the cut because yapped a lot 😆

Dancer

Sancha an her brother have been members of House de Riva since they were children. When the House of Crows (the artists collective their dance house is a part of) decided to start hosting more artistic endeavors in the "Historic Heart" of Treviso, their House and a few others opened secondary campuses in the area. Sancha, Arlo and a few veterans and new bloods from the House were brought over to the new campus.

It's not so bad, being in Treviso. She gets to meet new people, other dancers, artists, the proprietress of a local fashion house that even the Dellamorte family gets their costumes from. Hell, she even got to meet a foreign author and opened up talks about having some of his works adapted to stage performances. She gets much more opportunities to perform and gets to interact with a wider audience.

It's just a shame Treviso still doesn't feel like home.

Assistant Instructor (/personal assistant)

While the Treviso location has a good amount of their dancers and instructors, Viago didn't bring all of them along. Obviously Salle is still the home of House de Riva and most instructors still remain there. While not a full instructor, Sancha's been part of the House for so long that she knows what Viago tends to want from his dancers (even if he's terrible at communicating it sometimes). She also gets to help out with the others troupes, they usual perform together anyway, and it's always interesting to get a glimpse of how the other instructors run their houses.

Also, even though they don't perform much and tend to just finance performances and art installations nowadays, she gets to work closely with the Dellamorte family. (Well, mostly Viago works closely with them and she's just there with him taking notes and asking questions). She already knew Illario through her brother, they've even performed together sometimes, but working with Lucanis is fun and interesting. The mysterious Lucanis Dellamorte, even though he's from Treviso, seems just as lost as she is most days. But he lets her sit with him when they run into each other at the coffee shop and he really seems to like her ideas and her company. Plus, his dog loves her, even if he's a menace to everyone including Lucanis, and it's just...nice.

Babysitter

Not that she actually gets paid to do it or anything. When not actively practicing or helping with instructing, Sancha helps watch over the children of the dancers and the younger fledglings themselves. Lots of pretend, snacks, singing and stories.

When not watching them, she's more often than not roped into helping her brother watch his boyfriend's daughter whenever Illario's busy with work. Which is fine by her, Hillaria's a sweet girl who loves when she gets to hang out with her Tio Arlo & Tia Sanchina.

I know Crows = mob/ crime family is the usual go to for modern aus, but a while ago I saw art for a figure skating au and I thought, what if I did that but dancers? And proceed to have some ideas and made some living Dellamorte cousins and had a great sad time because I love them so much but they can't be alive in the DATV but they're great </3 and yeah. XD Plus all the headcanon posts I've seen around recently about the Crows and dancing really made me feel better about going w/ my original idea.

And fun fact, Sancha's surname is Favero because that's actually her birth name from before she was given to the Crows! (as mentioned it in an OC tag game I did a while back <3)

[honni-bea]

Since you asked I am asking about your head cannons(you should throw in a terry- head cannon because he's my favorite kk character :3) And now I'm going to write head cannons about Terry's life before the war😋😋

Alright so what I'll do is one character at a time and make a new reblog for each character bcuz this is going to be a lot

Keep in mind for all my tkk hcs I have not watched Cobra Kai so if I'm wrong uhhh just deal with it

I'm probably going to go character by character in tkk and the outsiders I'll only do the characters I like tho

Uhhh gently @s @kalied0skull even though they aren't really a karate kid creator... Because I worked really hard on this... And I like these hc's a lot...

Tw: uhh mentions of greening out, mentions of abuse, a little bit of nsfw

I'm gonna start with Johnny Lawrence:

-he's bi, he prefers sex with men and dating women, he prefers hookups to actual relationships because they're easier to him (and he has a hangup about being an unlovable dick but he won't admit that)

-he was very shy as a child like when he was little he would hide behind his mom's leg and it took him a lot of work to get him to talk to other people but he grew out of it in like 2nd grade

-momma's boy to the max, the first day of kindergarten he cried so hard he had to be sent home

-in my mind he's either transfem and super repressed and only figures out when he's an adult but doesn't do anything about it (he's like the one tweet that's like "I'm probably nb but I have work rn")

-if he finds out he's transfem when he's a teen (modern au?) his mom is so ecstatic and helps him with everything because she's always wanted a girl (not like she doesn't also want a boy, but she wants a girl more)

-for that reason (being transfem) he also likes being treated like a girl during sex (I think force fem is the term?) but would be caught dead before he admits that

-he got kinda bullied when he was younger for being small and that's why he joined Cobra Kai, the bullying wasn't that bad, just subtle teasing and stuff, but was already kinda insecure about it

-he met most of the og cobras in Cobra Kai, but he had been best friends with Bobby since like diapers (their moms are friends)

-he would practice how to kiss girls with Bobby but we all know the real reason why they did it (bobby was doing because he wanted to kiss Johnny, and Johnny was initially doing it for practice but later was just doing it to kiss bobby, although he would deny it if you asked)

-when he joined Cobra Kai he had one of those little kid crushes on kreese, but as he got older he became obsessed with him and Kreese used that to his advantage

-sid wouldn't hit him but he would often ground him, or take away his things, scream at him, etc but his favorite thing to do was kick him out for days on end, and when that would happen he would stay at Bobby's house

-zid/Laura would try to but back Johnny's trust, or buy him an apology, and he hated it, especially when it came from his mom because he expected better from her

-accidentally greened out once while at Bobby's house and Bobby took care of him

-Bobby's house basically became a second home for him because of how much he would stay over, his record of staying over was a month straight

-he's way smarter than everyone thinks he is because they assume that he's a dumb blond and he uses it to his advantage to get out of trouble

-didnt start full on liking Daniel until a few months after he beat him, but there were some moments when he was bullying Daniel that he thought like that

-anything that would make him "weird" is repressed as hell even around bobby

Oh yeah and a terry for you uhmmm

- Johnny and Terry are similar in a lot of ways, which is why kreese likes them both (I'll elaborate later)

I hope that counts

Yeah that's all I got for now

My music hcs are here ↓

[queer-heretic]

you are so correct, that is infuriating! people have so many incorrect perceptions about the middle ages and medieval christianity and it’s so frustrating. like you said, there has been a lot of harm done by the church, and there was structural oppression of women, and we can’t ignore that, but it’s so much more complex than that! being a nun actually afforded medieval women much more freedom in the realm of education and involving oneself in writing and theology than was offered to women outside of the church! nunneries and christian mysticism (where women used medieval stereotypes about women’s nature as more “emotional” and associated with the body to assert their own unique relationship with God) are a big reason we have a lot of these amazing writings and records of medieval religious women, particularly the ones that are in their own words!

fundamentally, you cannot remove christianity from The Interior Castle. even if you take out the specific references to God and change the wording, it is a fundamentally christian text! she worked in a christian society and theological framework!!! you are fundamentally disrespecting her by altering her writing because you think it’s “better” your way! you are no different than the (historically documented) men who altered medieval religious women’s works because they thought they knew better than them!

not to go off the rails here, but i also agree with what you said about how the new age movement constantly does this, it’s something that i have a lot of thoughts about. it’s very interesting in that the movement tries to create a secular spiritual framework, disconnected from any particular religion (in practice i’d argue that a majority of the movement comes directly from wicca, but that’s another ramble). this inherently creates dynamics that cause cultural appropriation - because they are pulling from different traditions, but discarding the religious and spiritual beliefs inherent to whatever specific practice they’re using to “secularize” it. inherently, this is pretty disrespectful! it’s just that people don’t notice/care until it comes to a living religion/culture because then they (or people of that culture) notice. for christian-based practices (though it’s a living religion), it flies under the radar because most new-age practitioners come from a majority-christian culture, so christian influences are just “normal” to them. also, this is just fundamentally Not how religion and spirituality have historically worked! people did not divide the practice and the belief! the belief is the cause of the practice, and the “why” by which it is supposed to work!

this causes a lot of new age practices to break down when you critically examine them. this symbol is good for this thing -> why? there is no answer. the real answer is that the association came from a particular tradition, but they’ve filed off the serial numbers. it works because we agree it works, essentially. there are ways you can work that sort of reasoning into a coherent spiritual framework, but the vast majority of people do not do that.

Found a copy of the Interior Castle by St Teresa of Avila that advertised "removing the religious dogma from her writings" sorry but that's insane and misogynistic as hell. Teresa was a nun. Interior Castle was written for a cloistered order of nuns. Removing the "religious dogma" doesn't make sense especially in this context. Why are people so obsessed with stripping female saints of their religion? Going as far as to censor and rewrite a woman's writing because it doesn't fit your standard is disgusting.

People are so so weird about religious women. I don't know if I've ever seen the writings of a male saint be censored in this way. Trying to package this censorship as some kind of feminist move is crazy. I've seen people do this to St.Joan of Arc and St. Hildegard of Bingen. If these women were alive today we would 100% consider them conservative and they would be horrified if they saw the way people were stripping away a massive part of their lives.

Respecting women includes respecting their writings and respecting their religious beliefs. It would have been more than okay for this author to write her OWN book about her OWN takeaways from the Interior Castle. Censoring religious text is an insane way to go about it and it's why I do not like the New Age spiritual movement. That entire movement is about appropiating different religions from around the world with no respect given to them. It's more than okay to read the religious writings of someone if you're not in their religion! You don't have to change it. If the religiousity is too uncomfortable for you, there's so many wonderfully written secular books out there to read.

This hits too close to home for me, I'm a writer. If someone went in and removed the religious aspects of my short stories I would be devastated. I recognize the misogynistic history of the Church, but I also recognize that for these women, religion was the most important part of their lives. Removing that from a woman's writing suggests a lack of respect for her autonomy. It says "This woman doesn't know what she's talking about, I do!". The fact that it was another woman who did this is even more disheartening.

It's a symptom of this broader issue where people act like religious women were these passive little girls who were blindly following their priests. All 3 of the women mentioned were considered rebels in their time. Teresa was told she was being possessed and that her visions of Christ were of the devil. Hildegard was accused of being a witch because she mixed herbal and crystal healing with her faith. We all know what happened to poor Joan of Arc. Removing their religion from their story only pleases the people from their time who rejected or attempted to eject these women from Catholicism. You are doing exactly what those priests and bishops wanted.

[deoidesign]

Doing master studies the only way I know how: Stealing them and making them my guys.

(Barberini Faun)

(The Fallen Angel - Alexandre Cabanel)

(Covent Garden - William Bruce Ellis Rankin)

[quatregats]

Thinking a lot of thoughts about Hornblower's relationships with Barbara and Maria as a metaphor for his larger relationship to social mobility and ambition, and I think there's actually a lot there - not sure if it was intentional, but I do think that whether intentionally or inadvertently, Forester did an interesting job with the parallels.

Quick note beforehand that some of this is based on my constant brief paging through C. Northcote Parkinson's Hornblower "biography", which, while I absolutely abhor his interpretation of Hornblower, gives even more food for thought on this point. I'm also leaning more into his interpretation of Hornblower's background and childhood, as opposed to the TV show's, so it might not work if you're coming from the TV show's perspective.

Parkinson takes Forester's comment that Hornblower was a "doctor's son" to mean that he was the son of an apothecary, rather than a physician like in the show. I'm not a historian of the period, so I would be hard-pressed to actually try to fit Hornblower's father within the 18th-century framework of medical practice, but either way, given his awkwardness around upper-class life and that he seems to have grown up in rural Kent, I think that Parkinson's claim that he was the son of an apothecary, rather than a physician, does have some reasonable foundation, or is at least equally plausible (to me) as the show's.

Hornblower struggles with poverty through most of the series, especially the first half, but even when he is barely scraping by, such as at the start of Lieutenant, this does not seem to be an abnormal state; and when he finally arrives at wealth and success, he constantly wishes to go back to the days when he was a penniless lieutenant, so from this we might also surmise that he did not come from wealth. (I'm also comparing especially to Jack Aubrey, who, while he admittedly makes a hash of coming into large amounts of money, and who also lives perfectly happily on very little, is clearly quite comfortable being the "lord of the manor" by comparison.)

One of the biggest changes in the second half of the series (from The Happy Return/Beat to Quarters onward) is that Hornblower's career comes into fruition; he becomes a decorated Captain, a member of the landed gentry, a Knight of Bath, a Peer, and finally an admiral, and marries into an enormously influential family. He's constantly in conflict about this, until he isn't: he wants to become someone powerful and important, except that he doesn't like the role once he gets it, and constantly wishes about the old days, then feels guilty for wishing for them. Most importantly, he seems to become less and less himself, his mental narrative getting more and more distorted as he tries to mold himself into the person he thinks he wants to be.

I don't think this is a particular novel interpretation, but I think that in light of this, the contrast between his marriage to Maria and his marriage to Barbara is very interesting. If he was an apothecary's son, his and Maria's marriage would make a decent amount of sense - they'd be from similar social backgrounds, and probably a reasonable match, if Hornblower's career had continued as expected. Hornblower feels comfortable around Maria at the start of their friendship and the very beginning of their marriage in a way that mirrors his comfort with the life he's living at that point - which is to say that he clearly knows and understands what's expected of him and how to interact, in clear contrast with later books. But on the other hand, for all that he originally does love Maria, Hornblower comes to find her to be coarse, unrefined, and boring, and feel that she is not good enough for the person he wants to become. It's at the point when he starts to feel that he's moved passed Maria that he begins to take on his new, ambitious, performative persona.

On the other hand, Hornblower feels stiff and uncomfortable around Barbara from the beginning of their relationship, notably for reasons of class, and even in later books, consistently sounds intimidated by her poise and upper-class untouchability. With Maria he doesn't feel enough for her; with Barbara he feels too much, an almost uncouth sentimentality. He craves Barbara's status like a man drowning, but can't hold up under the weight of what it would mean. They have very strong intellectual chemistry, but socially they are a disaster of a couple, and yet nonetheless, Hornblower continues with the marriage because it feels to him like the thing he ought to do, just as he ought to become squire of Smallbridge. He's so viscerally uncomfortable with his position in the later books in a way he wasn't even at the height of his earlier miseries, but he refuses to let himself admit that his ambitions might have led him astray.

I think it's also interesting that the relationship which Hornblower arguably finds the most fulfilling (or rather, it was written very poorly if Forester wanted to make it feel fulfilling for the reader, but nonetheless it was clearly meant to be the most fulfilling for Hornblower) is his relationship with Marie, who sits at a similar odd juncture to him. In the text, Forester says outright that Marie fulfills Hornblower's interest in upper-class women (ambition) while not intimidating him, yet still being a satisfying intellectual partner. Nonetheless, just as Marie and Hornblower can never actually end up together, Hornblower can never actually be comfortable with his position, and no matter how many times he tries to find solace in her, he is eventually forced to continue down the path that he began, making up with Barbara and fully taking up the mantle of Admiral and Peer of the Realm.

In short, I think that watching the way in which Hornblower's relationship with Maria evolves over the course of the early books and the way in which his relationship with Barbara takes up after that ends up being a very neat parallel to his own ambitions and class identity. With Maria he is at home, but bored and restless; with Barbara he gets everything that he wants, but feels like a fish out of water. I think that particular parallel is part of the particular tragedy of Hornblower - he can't ever be satisfied with the person he was, or the person he's become. But I think that adding in aspects of extreme class difference - even more class difference than the general trends of social mobility during this period - also helps to elucidate the fundamental tension which drives Hornblower forward as a character. The world he came from was too small for him; the world in which he moves now is far too big; but there's no in-between option. He has to choose what he wants to be, and sacrifice some part of himself in order to do that, and in light of this reading of him, I think that there's a lot of interesting dilemmas to be raised.

[fluffs-n-stuffs]

_____ used Destiny Bond! _____ is hoping to take his attacker down with him!

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(Belatedly) celebrating the one-year anniversary of the 'Destiny Bond' comic with a rare, fully-illustrated piece. A bit of extra context and rambly thoughts under the cut 🫶💖💕

A little over a year ago, I posted the first part of the Destiny Bond comic, originally intended to be a one-off doodle exploring the consequences of Morty's prophetic abilities on his relationship with Eusine.

That sketchy doodle of mine ended up being a whole narrative project spanning across a few months, before I eventually took a pause on it to focus on my mental health (having reached a low earlier in the year).

It was a daring enough project in and of itself, especially with how I had spontaneously taken it on when I was still recovering from a years-long burnout with 2D art. Though (temporarily) stopping sooner than I had hoped, I can confidently say that this little comic project of mine had helped to rekindle my love for drawing as a whole, and had further lead me to meeting some of the most wonderful people and friends in this small corner of the Pokémon fandom (whom also happen to be obsessed with these two silly guys from the GSC/HGSS games). It's a project I hold dearly to my heart, and one that I hope to revisit and continue once I feel ready to do so; as the story has yet to truly kick off (I'm not even joking we're still in the prologue technically I'm yelling /lh).

I hope to be able to share the rest of this story with you all one day, in whatever new form it'll take as. For now, I want to say thank you, from the deepest parts of my heart, for supporting this passion project of mine - and to assure you to tune in for the future of this title. 👀✨