#everything is about his fragile ego and everything is against him

[separatismor]

🤬

[gibberishfangirl]

WIND BREAKER | heart breaker

Synopsis ✰ head cannons of the boys falling for a notorious heart breaker

Characters ✰ Haruka Sakura, Hajime Umemiya, Hayato Suo, Akihiko Nirei, Jo Togame, Choji Tomiyama

Contains ✰ sfw! content of the boys being down bad for someone they shouldn’t be/isn’t good for them

★ inspired by bubblegum bitch by marina ★

Haruka Sakura ᡣ𐭩

★ i’m the girl you’d die for ★

♡ fell in love before he even knew it

♡ down bad horrendously

♡ he’ll do anything for you

♡ he’s heard the rumors before meeting you but chose to ignore them and get to know you

♡ was a blushing mess once you started giving him all your attention

♡ you found his shyness and his ability to get easily flustered charming

♡ he was different to you

♡ you fell for him before you knew it

♡ acted like a couple before you two were official

♡ even after you made it official his feelings never changed

♡ he was completely whipped

♡ he got teased a lot for being so in love

♡ he fell first but you fell harder (and he doesn’t even know it)

♡ in awe by your beauty 24/7

♡ 100% loses himself while admiring you

♡ finds it hard to concentrate around you

♡ has the urge to protect you from the world

♡ after you met him no other guy ever caught your attention again

♡ definitely fought any ex who couldn’t accept you moved on

Hajime Umemiya ᡣ𐭩

★ hit me with your sweet love, steal me with a kiss ★

♡ he was well aware of your reputation

♡ didn’t let it sway him

♡ didn’t fall in love until you kissed him

♡ he thought you were the sweetest person to exist

♡ couldn’t believe someone as nice as you could ever be known as a “heart-breaker”

♡ friends to lovers

♡ once he got taste of you he wanted more

♡ secretly craved your attention and love

♡ learned that you never purposefully hurt anyone

♡ you got your reputation from men with fragile egos

♡ he was glad he didn’t listen to the rumors

♡ you actually never even had a boyfriend

♡ he was your first love

♡ he defended you against everyone

♡ “you don’t know her”

♡ “you shouldn’t listen to rumors before getting to know someone.”

♡ would get annoyed if anyone tried to get in between you two

♡ you made the first move

Hayato Suo ᡣ𐭩

★ dear diary, i met a boy he made my doll heart light up with joy ★

♡ you fell first

♡ he didn’t know that you had a reputation

♡ something about him made him stick out more

♡ you didn’t want anyone but him

♡ he thought you were beautiful at first sight

♡ was the only boy who could ever make you blush

♡ you dropped the guy who you were originally talking to for him

♡ he made you feel seen

♡ he made your heart flutter with his genuine love

♡ was the first boy who wanted you for you

♡ didn’t rush you into anything like every other guy did

♡ slow burn

♡ you craved attention, he was willing to give you all of his and more

♡ he made you feel comfortable and loved

♡ the slowest paced relationship you had in the best way possible

♡ his love was soft and gentle

♡ you needed someone like him in your life

♡ helped heal your past wounds

Akihiko Nirei ᡣ𐭩

★ i’ll chew you up and i’ll spit you out ★

♡ he knew you could ruin him

♡ didn’t stop him from wanting you

♡ took the chance of getting hurt anyway

♡ he loved you more than he loved himself

♡ you changed for him (don’t worry you did not break his heart thankfully)

♡ you were moved by how kind and loyal he was towards you

♡ he never judged you

♡ the kindest boy you’ve ever met

♡ you never smiled as much as you did when you were around him

♡ everyone was surprised to see how gentle you’ve become since meeting him

♡ you two communicated very well

♡ he never got mad at you which meant everything to you

♡ handled your emotions with care and respect

♡ never made you feel like you were too much or not enough

♡ he motivated you to become better each day

♡ you never want to hurt him

♡ you ended up falling for him harder in the long run

Jo Togame ᡣ𐭩

★ pull me closer and kiss me hard ★

♡ he was determined to make you fall for him

♡ thought you were the most beautiful person on the planet

♡ knew you just had bad experiences

♡ didn’t trust the rumors because most guys you dated weren’t great guys

♡ he wanted to be utterly consumed by you

♡ his love was strong and gentle, almost consuming but not suffocating

♡ once he had you, he wouldn’t let you go

♡ made it a point to let everyone know you were his

♡ proud to call you his

♡ never ashamed of you

♡ he never wanted to remember what it was like to be without you

♡ easily became your safe space

♡ his presence made you feel free

♡ never brought up your reputation or past relationships

♡ he didn’t care about the past, he only cares about the future you two have

♡ wouldn’t be afraid to tell an ex to get over it

♡ “shoulda realized what you had before, not my problem”

Choji Tomiyama ᡣ𐭩

★ don’t care if you think i’m dumb, i don’t care at all ★

♡ he loved your confidence

♡ others couldn’t keep up with you in relationships, they’d become too insecure with the amount of attraction you have

♡ thought everyone else was dumb for judging you

♡ he wanted you even if others thought he was dumb for liking you

♡ you two matched each other’s energy perfectly

♡ a match made in heaven/hell (your pick tbh)

♡ he wanted to show you off

♡ was proud he had such a pretty thing that he could call his

♡ isn’t afraid to check someone

♡ would never hold you back

♡ never made you feel like you were doing too much

♡ he wanted you to be as free as possible

♡ never questioned your past relationships, unless an ex came back into your life

♡ would 100% beat up your ex if needed

♡ expect constant laughter and smiles whenever you two were near each other

♡ he definitely made you happiest you’ve ever been

♡ if there was ever a moment you felt down about yourself he’d be there to pick you right up

a/n <3 : i might write a part 2 to this ? maybe with some angst and the scenario of a break up happening??? idkkk lmk, i hate writing sad stuff </3 but it’s speaking to meeee!!! ill prolly tone it down 100% if it happens, send help

[moonrisecoeur]

adoration — leon kennedy

author’s note: this is absolutely disgustingly horrifically soft. not my usual content but i hope you like it! also to anyone who doesn’t follow me i don’t usually write sub!reader so please don’t request it!

wc: 2.3k

content: leon x reader, fem!reader, not really sub or dom tho i guess it leans more towards dom!leon but it’s super soft, so many pet names, lots of praise, lots of compliments, possessiveness, leon’s down bad but we already knew that, work stress, a little bit of reader being insecure about her looks, riding, unwrapped p in v sex, boyfie leon !!

—

“there you are,” his voice is gentle just like him. he smiles as he embraces you in a sweet hug, wondering why the universe was so cruel as to pull you away from him for so long every single day. he wishes he could stay right next you, arms wrapped around you, head resting against yours, never letting you go.

he’s only a little possessive, in a cute way rather than a unnerving way. he just likes being with you too much to ever be content when you’re not around.

the best part, in his opinion, is how you hold him back. arms around his waist, mumbling to yourself more so than leon about how much you miss his hugs, “awh, it’s okay, honey. know you missed me,” he teases, and it’s so blatant that out of the two of you, he’s the one who’s down bad, absolutely gone. he’s lucky that you’re not super greedy because he would give you anything you asked for.

your face nuzzled into the crook of his neck is more than enough to make him adore you for the rest of eternity. he reaches a hand up to your face, and watching your head tilt up to sweetly meet his gaze has to be the most deadly thing you’ve ever done. he feels physically giddy as you look at him curiously, wondering if he has someone to say as his fingers caress your cheek and jawline. soft skin beneath his rough fingers. he adores you. endlessly.

“so pretty…” he mumbles, sweet nothings murmuring their way past his lips as his hands cup your cheeks so he can hold you and look at you head on, blue eyes taking in every feature on your sweet face. he can’t help but love it all. he loves your face, he would stare at you for hours if you wouldn’t think it’s weird. he breathes in, inhaling your scent, so recognizable it’s comforting, “my pretty girl, mine all mine.”

you sigh comfortably, melting into him and his touch. it’s alright; he’s got you. he always does.

he leans to press a kiss to your forehead, “all mine..” he whispers again, like he’s reassuring himself, “want you all to myself. hate it when you’re gone.”

you giggle, a little bit breathless. he can tell his own effect on you and it strokes his ego wildly. he knows you secretly love his more possessive side, enjoying that he can’t even be bothered to look at another woman without being reminded about how much he loves and adores you. you’re his baby! he couldn’t ever want someone else!

“can i have you all to myself?” he asks, lips trailing down to your ear.

“mhm,” you hum, nodding your head cutely, and he can’t help the way he absolutely crumbles. god he’s really losing it, you’re absolutely everything to him. you’re too precious for him to ever let go.

“i love you,” he whispers as he kiss your jaw, your face still cradled in his hands like you’re too fragile for him to ever let you go.

“i love you too,” you whisper back. that’s all he’d ever need from you: your love. he could want a million things, but this moment tells him the truth. he’s yours. completely, and helplessly yours.

one hand still steady on holding your face, smiling as you lean more into his touch, his other hand dips back down, over your waist and hips and between your thighs in a way that aches so pleasantly. it’s impossible to tell when exactly you got so wet from this completely normal interaction but he notices too and he’s already too confident. it’ll go to his head at this point. oh well. you’d get back at him another time to bring him back down to earth.

“oh, pretty girl, i can tell my words are affecting you…” he says softly. he says it like it’s a question but he already knows the answer, “but…. if you need something, you can tell me.”

his voice is the only thing you can sensibly hear right now, everything else drowned out with his strong arms holding you close. the way you pout makes his heart race because god you are so adorable that it kills him.

“baby, if you need me to do something, you gotta let me know. i’m not a mind reader,” his voice, thick and syrupy, seeps into your skin and drives you mad with a need to be his. in all ways humanly possible.

and for him to be yours too. you know that this is all an act, that every moment so far in this interaction has been real but with an undertone that you both can easily sense. you control leon in all the ways that matter. you mold him into exactly what you want, and he contorts himself willingly because he wants to be everything you want and need in a man. he’s yours just as much, if not infinitely more, as you’re his.

“can you praise me..?” you whisper, soft and timid. even if you’re not normally the shy type, it all seems to come crumbling down when leon holds you close.

“that’s my girl,” he smiles. sure, he could tease you more, especially with how nonspecific your request was. but you’re desperate and he’s too soft on you to make you wait any longer, “pretty and sweet and all mine.”

even as you huff, muttering something trying to push back against his words. i’m not actually that pretty, or something like that, leon’s shaking his head, in disbelief that a being as ethereal as his lover could ever, even for a moment, believe themselves to be unattractive.

but this isn’t the moment. he can tell you don’t want a lecture on self love or positive self talk right now. it wouldn’t do any good to tell you that he thinks you’re beautiful if you wouldn’t believe it, so he just does as you ask like the obedient boyfriend he is. he’ll tackle that beast another time.

“my pretty girl, my good girl…” he whispers, hands cradling your head against his chest, fingers tendering brushing against your skin as you close your eyes and just let leon speak to you. he’s never been good with words until he fell in love with you, “so proud of you, sweetheart. you worked so hard, even with everything you got going on. my baby’s so strong, isn’t she?”

you nod even as he holds you, maybe just a little too emotional to respond any other way.

“but you don’t always gotta be strong, you can let your walls down when it’s just me, baby. i promise i’ll take care of you,” he whispers, lips pressed against your forehead again. and once he thinks he’s buttered you up enough, he mumbles something like, “tell me what’s bugging you, princess.”

“i… i don’t wanna go to work anymore…” you mumble against his shirt, and he’s looking at you like you’re the cutest thing in the world, “i hate working. just wanna be with you.”

he laughs heartily, and you can feel the vibrations against his chest. his presence just entices comfort, one of his hands resting atop your head, “i know, baby. i wanna be with you always too,” he says.

“it’s not fair..”

he pouts when you pout, the world just had to be so unfair, “i know it’s not. if it were up to me, you’d never work a day in your life, but… you know, unfortunately i’m not that rich.”

you chuckle, and he’s relieved he at least got that out of you.

he can’t help getting distracted, “god you’re so fucking pretty,” he mumbles, hands dropping down to your waist, holding you close like he’s preparing to never let go, “so beautiful, baby. and you’re so perfect,” he tilts his head to look at you, making dangerous eye contact again, face just inches apart, “you’re so… lovely. i could stay here with you forever.”

you smile softly and it lights up the room and his entire life. you hold him close like you never want to let him go, and he feels pretty little butterflies in his stomach.

he leans in to kiss you, finally, and one arm stays wrapped possessively around your waist, as if to steal you away from the rest of the world, and one hand reaches back up to cup your cheek. he kisses you sweetly, not too rough or aggressive, just enough to make you want to drown in his touch, his scent, his presence.

“leon..!” you gasp between kisses, and he’s never liked his name as much as he likes it when your lips say it.

he pulls away to search for any hint that you need him to stop, that your breathless whisper of his name was a plea for escape, and he doesn’t seem to find any. his eyes trail down to your lips again, as if taunted by them, “what do you need, baby?”

“you,” you whisper, your lips finding his neck, kissing him softly. he’s not sure when you exactly decided you would try to kill him but the way your lips feel against him is lethal in its own way.

“yeah? my baby need me?”

“mhm,” you smile, he feels it against his skin, “your pretty girl needs to feel as pretty as you think she is.”

and something pulls at leon’s heart at that little statement. it’s not sad or pitiful, nor is it said with a sad tone, but he wonders what it means to you. do you believe him when he calls you that? god, you have to, he’s too obsessed with you for it to even be questionable if he thinks you’re pretty.

he practically drags you to bed, sits down on the edge and pulls you onto his lap, fingers immediately between your legs, feeling that familiar wetness that he loves, pressing down on your clit with his thumb.

“good girl, just like that… grind on my hand, let yourself feel good,” he murmurs, “this is about you, so be selfish, baby. take what you want from me.”

he likes how needy you get because maybe, just maybe, that means you need him just as badly as he needs you. it soothes him, in a way.

“i’ll fill you up nice and full later, but for now… just sit here with me… just let me touch you, pretty, i’ll make you feel good.”

and you just curl up into him, holding onto his shoulder for support as takes every whine and moan and absolutely devours them. his fingers have gotten rougher over the years, but that roughness feels good when he’s rubbing figure eights on your clit, fingers moving in circular motions inside your pretty pussy, bringing you to closer orgasm sooner than you thought. he’s just that good.

“there you go, princess. just feel it all. just close your eyes… and feel me against you,” he whispers, “you’re so cute when you’re feeling good. well, you’re always cute, but you know what i mean.”

“leon…” your whiny voice is met with a chuckle from him.

“hm?”

“i’m gonna cum…” you mumble, resting your head in the crook of his neck again, must be your favorite spot.

he likes that you don’t ask permission because why would you? he’d never deny you, not pleasure nor anything else you want in life. no, you say it like a warning, like a don’t you dare stop kind of warning. he wouldn’t dare.

“c’mon, pretty. let yourself have it,” he mumbles, lips almost touching your ear, that’s how close they are.

leon’s selfish, he can’t help it. he makes you orgasm because he wants to give you pleasure, sure, but he’s also doing it because he loves watching you cum. not so much right now, with your head buried away, but he likes seeing your orgasm face, he likes that you shut your eyes tightly and your eyebrows furrow and your mouth hangs open just slightly. you’re so pretty when you cum.

if he’s being honest, he should have made you look at him when you came, but he knows you were feeling a little shy today so he didn’t push.

and the feeling of your cunt clenching on his fingers turns him on beyond belief. he feels the pressure of the orgasm, and he knows it’s a big one, so of course he helps you through it, fucking his fingers as deep as possible, loving the achy moans that escape your throat. you’re not super loud but you’re also right by his ear so he hears every gasp and moan and whimper as you cum for him. he adores you so painfully.

“there you go, good girl…” he whispers, cradling you close as you both fall back against the bed, holding each other as the wetness on his hand starts to dry but your body still pulses with a reminder of how much pleasure just flooded through you.

it’s almost too paralyzing to speak, and you make pretty little sounds as you shift to get comfortable that make leon’s heart jump. he holds your waist as you lay half on top of him.

he looks at your face, radiant with a comfortable glow you’ve been missing this whole time. in his arms, in your shared bed, it’s safe and soft and leon holds you close with no intentions of letting go.

“should we…” he starts, and you lift your head slightly to look at him as he speaks, “cancel our dinner reservations? order in, we’ll get whatever my sweet lover wants, and we can just stay in bed all night?”

you can’t help but giggle, “yeah. i wanna keep kissing you for at least another hour.”

“yes, ma’am.”

[wannaeatramyeon]

How Lookism men confess to YOU they've caught feelings

G/N. Soft. Fluffy. All that good stuff. (Gun, Jake, Goo, James Lee/DG, Johan, Vin, Samuel, Eli, Ryuhei)

Gun opts for somewhere private, just the two of you. Whether that's his home, yours, or somewhere only you both know.

He tells you with certainty his feelings for you. That there's no point divulging if he didn't think it would work out, if you weren't better together.

Intensity radiates from him. His words, eyes, aura. He keeps his confession simple and to the point, unexpectedly romantic with how matter of fact he is.

.

.

Jake thought he was being subtle, but there's a lot of prying eyes in the shadows.

He shoos the Big Deal members away in his best authoritative, no nonsense boss tone. The one he reserves to deal with serious matters. Which this is. Of utmost seriousness.

Behind his beaming toothy grin and confident stance are anxious eyes. His words are cheesy and well-rehearsed. Sincerity pulses through his every fibre, leaving you starry eyed and breath hitched.

.

.

Goo announces his feelings with a grin on his lips.

Corners you somewhere crowded, at a completely inappropriate moment. But of course. It's only inappropriate if Goo deems it to be so, and there's no time like the present.

The words are said lightly, like he could play it off as a joke any moment. His ego too fragile for rejection. But his carefree attitude is off kilter, body language tense. Gaze steady and more serious than you have ever seen.

.

.

James is flippant. The arrogant, cocky man claims you as his already. Confesses without any doubt in his mind that rejection could happen, or it could sting.

He's not a gambling man. Only plays when the odds are in his favour and the gains far outweighs the losses.

There's no ifs or buts. Talks about 'us' and 'we' and a future where you're by his side.

.

.

Johan pulls out the words reluctantly and when you least expect. Like they will choke him if he keeps it from you any longer.

He says it without looking at you. Eyes fixed on the ground, a point in the distance, Miro, Eden, anywhere but you.

Brows knitted together, hands white knuckled. A second away from running away. But he needs to tell you, he has to. The words are too big to swallow down anymore.

.

.

Vin peppers his confession with insults and half-jokes. A type of self defence to spare his heart.

Hands in pocket, like it's no big deal. Words spilling out, trying to inject indifference into them. Back against the wall, peering over at you. 

Sunglasses firmly on, eyes shielded. Because he can't bear to be any more vulnerable than he has to right now. His words are barbed and prickly, but his feelings are completely bared.

.

.

Samuel offers his heart in between lofty promises and delusions of grandeur.

Words murmured against the back of your hand, breath ghosting over your skin. Eyes fixed on yours, fiery and almost challenging you to say no.

But a relentless phantom haunts him, one that he silences over and over again.

-That being by his side won't be enough, that offering you to be his queen is inadequate, lacking and there's so much more that you deserve.

Still, he promises you the world and is committed to giving you nothing less.

.

.

Trepidation lines Eli’s words. Like he can’t believe he’s here again. After everything that has happened, with everything on his plate.

He’s forced himself to make room for you, carved out a part of his life.

He confesses in a cramped dusty room in Hostel. Sat opposite one another on rickety uneven chairs, so close your knees are touching and there’s no personal space left. 

Body leaning forward, craving your touch and proximity as he rids the last remnants of hesitancy and takes a leap of faith.

.

.

Ryuhei tells you over and over again.

Until it becomes a daily mantra of sorts for him, and part of your day for you. At first as a joke, or at least you thought so. And then his earnestness snowballed until you could no longer ignore it.

He confesses, with the same sort of childish joy he always feels when he's with you. Tonight, his blood is thrumming in his vein and his pulse is beating in his ears.

With a hushed voice and hope in his eyes: he tells you once more.

[teastainedprose]

Breaking Point (Homelander x reader)

Homelander delights in teasing you until he needles you too much on the wrong day. 1.5k words | Jerk Homelander to guilty Homelander, hurt/comfort if you squint. Homelander x gn!reader, implied chronic pain reader, implied plus-sized reader, [A03]

You are so soft. Your flesh gives under his grasp when he yanks you by the arm, careless with how it makes you stumble. Homelander laughs mockingly at the small, annoyed twitch of your lip as he tugs you close. Too close.

"Hey. Where are those new poll results, sweetheart?" The words are a purr, warm breath a caress against your cheek as he looms too close to be proper. Everything done with calculated intent to pull a reaction from you.

You stare blankly up at him, expression schooled neutral. You're used to this game. You've watched other employees crack and fracture under the pressure Homelander exerts. You refuse. You're made of sterner stuff, a master of hiding how you're honestly feeling.

He knows he gets to you, but you rarely let it show on the outside. You can school your face, but there's no controlling how he makes your heart hammer in your chest. How being so close to him sets your nerves alight in a pleasant sensation. Homelander leers down at you, pleased at how your pulse skitters under his scrutiny. He releases you, stepping back as the persona of a proper gentleman settles into place. Homelander smiles as he waits for your reply, the well-practiced one that the cameras always catch.

You're quick to give Homelander an indulgent smile back. An exchange of fake expressions as the two of you play nice. You look so placid and calm before him, but Homelander knows better. He can hear your heart jumping in your chest.

"I can pull them up for you right now if you want?" You reply, the words even and calm as you look up expectantly. You're too tired to deal with any bullshit. Homelander's included. You're always too tired.

In his eyes you're so amiable, so sweet. So disgusting. Your response isn't what he wants.  It's controlled and that's no fun. He's not satisfied with your performance. Homelander sneers, whirling away with a flutter of his cape. "Never mind."

You stand there, grimacing in his wake as you rub the spot where he grabbed you. You briefly let your honest emotions flicker freely on your face while his back is turned.. No eyes on you at this moment as sheer frustration and pain settles in. You take a breath as your mask of calm is set back into place. You go on with your day.

Why are you so soft? Under his hands and how you interact with others. Why do you always hand out such easy smiles so freely? He hates that about you. You carry that weary calm like a cloak, but you'll shake it off with a vibrant smile and a laugh if the right person engages you in conversation. They distract you from your fatigue and you light right up.

Homelander has yet to earn one of those sunshine smiles. He gets the fake ones. The ones that make him feel like a child clamoring for attention that you only indulge with your patience. He hates it. It makes him feel small. A god should never feel this way around such a weak mortal as yourself.

As any god does, he lets it bruise his fragile ego. The mortal must be punished and punish you he does. Every day Homelander tries to get a rise out of you. He tries to crack that cheerful facade you've welded in place. It must be fake. No animal has such a cheerful disposition naturally. There's no reason for it because you're so often a lethargic thing. He can smell the weariness on you, the stress, and even pain. How the fuck are you still smiling?

-and why the fuck do you never smile at him? 

Homelander decides, in his usual mature fashion, that if you won't smile? He'll bait out your anger instead. He wants, needs a reaction from you beyond those fake smiles.

He continues to goad you day in and day out. He'll slide right up next to you, too close, and lean down to ask directly into your ear for a report or some statistics on what his numbers are doing. Any old excuse to engage with you. He gleefully invades your personal space and is extra handsy because Homelander knows you hate it while he's aware of the effect it has on your body. 

If he grabs your shoulder and squeezes just so, your breath hitches. If he places a palm against the small of your back, your pulse races away without fail. If Homelander berates your fashion choices or comments on how tired you look, you flash that hollow smile while your eyes speak loathing at him. He wants that fire, craves it.

The tired fatigue that you always carry briefly pulls back to hint at a simmering something. One day he'll get you boiling over. In anger, in lust. It doesn't matter which one as long as it happens with him there to witness it.

Homelander finds himself brimming with anticipation for that day until it finally happens.

Everyone has a breaking point, even you.

It hurts, it hurts, it hurts. It's too much, please just-

He's caught you trying to hide away in a conference room, the scent of adrenaline in the air as your heart races. A glance with his x-ray vision reveals you staring off with shaking fists clenched against your plush sides.

Finally!

Will you lash out?  Will you bite back? The thought sends a thrill through Homelander at seeing little Miss Sunshine finally rattled. There's a storm brewing on your face as your fingers tighten. It's an expression Homelander knows he's worn many a time. The sort of look that has interns scattering and Ashley stammering.

What a delight it'll be to see what you unleash. What can you possibly do, as small and soft as you are? Will it be like watching a kitten hiss and claw? Adorably pathetic.

He strides into the conference room with a smirk, the door clicking shut behind him. "There you are! You missed today's meeting, you know." He chides softly with a waggle of one finger as Homelander strides closer. You stare up at him, eyes blazing.

"Now what are we going to do about that?" Homelander goes on, voice as smooth as honey as he smirks down at you.

Something in your expression shifts. A crack in your mask appears.

Gotcha.

"Well?" He prompts, expectant. Giddiness trickles down his spine as Homelander grins wide, fangs on display. He can't wait to see how this rage of yours plays out.

Except you don't unleash anything on him. You don't even insult Homelander, which would give him reason to taunt you further or retaliate. It would give him a reason to finally lash out at you in earnest, but all you're doing is standing there.

Your expression crumples up like wet tissue. The tears are white hot and silently streaking down your face in an instant. The sound you make is beyond pathetic as you drop back into your seat, huddling into yourself. Homelander watches stock-still as you draw your legs up, arms coiling about your knees as you bury your face away from his gaze.

It's a truly pathetic sight, sobbing like the little mud person you are.

Homelander should feel triumphant. His grin twists to a grimace. He awkwardly shifts, gloves creaking as he balls his fingers into fists at his side.

Why isn't he pleased? He's watching you shatter and it doesn't wash him in the usual delight bringing misery to others does. Your sunshine is gone and it's raining on your parade, which is exactly what Homelander wanted.

Your crying should amuse Homelander. He's not amused. Instead, there's a sinking feeling within the pit of his stomach. A dead weight settles heavy inside as all his amusement flees at the sound of your whimpering sobs. It's a foreign sensation and Homelander doesn't like it one bit.

Homelander works his jaw as guilt chews away at his insides, stuck to the spot hovering over you. You continue to cry, quieter now with your back bowed and face hidden. He can smell the salt of your tears easily. 

Silently, he reaches back to pull up the length of his cape. This Homelander offers to you. He doesn't have a handkerchief like a proper gentleman, so this will have to do.

He knows he's broken something. Carelessly snapped it in two. Homelander has done it countless times before. The snap of a spine. Fizzle pop of a control deck. The crackle and sizzle of flesh. The wet sucking sound as organs spill on the floor. It's natural for a creature such as him. Things breaking is a fact of his life. He's never felt guilty about any of those times. Guilt is a rare emotion for Homelander but now it's clawing up his throat, threatening to choke him. 

Homelander blinks and refocuses his gaze as he feels a tug on his cape. He watches in a detached way as you dab at your face with the fabric, sniffling loudly. Homelander can't make himself apologize. He doesn't know how.

Instead, he asks in a surprisingly tentative voice. "Bad day?"

That takes you by surprise as your gaze snaps to him. You stare a beat up at Homelander and then you smile. It's a quavering sort, but it's an honest smile. The sunshine rushes back into your face as Homelander sucks a breath in. Were you always such a lovely little creature?

"Yeah," You say slowly. "Something like that."

[runariya]

Another prompt: 💎🤫

Mafia JK x hitwoman employee. Set at JK's club. Hitwoman employee just finished his order to take out a rival mobster and returns to give JK the good news about her successful job. She's the best in the business so her ego is huge. He's lucky to have her. She gets horny after she kills, so they have sex on his desk in his office. Maybe she doesn't take money from him for hits, maybe she just wants him as payment, so they hook up frequently.

(mafia+smut) part of the prompt game pairing: mafia boss!Jungkook x hit woman!reader genre: mafia!AU, smut warnings: jealousy, mentions of assassination, explicit sexual content, good girl, princess, unprotected sex word count: 1.837

a/n: Erica, I'd kiss the ground you walk on for this prompt (and the others you've send lol) lysm 💕

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Jungkook can’t remember the last time he felt safe in the dark. Not that he’s scared of it; no, he’s too dangerous to feel fear, to feel any kind of vulnerability. But safe? That’s a whole different feeling he experienced as if it were the first time when he met you.

A woman so beautiful, so lethal, that even he gets weak in the knees.

A woman too precious for this world, too fragile to survive, but still you’ve risen to become the most deadly hitwoman walking through his cities and those that soon will be his.

It’s not only the rise of goosebumps on his skin but also the familiar clacking of your heels against the polished floor outside his office that alerts him to your arrival—a clear sign of your successful mission. It’s not like you’d knock; you never do, and he’d remove the door altogether if you ever hinted that pulling the handle was too much for you.

The same alluring smile graces your lips painted in red, the same glint in your eyes as you make your way to him, perching yourself right in front of him on his desk, knees bending over themselves as the slit in your tight black dress reveals the smooth skin of your leg now running alongside Jungkook’s.

Jungkook can’t help but run his knuckles up your exposed skin, cold rings gracing ever so slightly the spots he knows are your most sensitive, can’t help but drink you in, in all your glory. Still, even though he knows you’ve done a good job, he can’t help but voice the one thought that’s been clouding his mind throughout it all.

“Did he touch you?”

Your red lips stretch into a smirk he knows all too well at this point, seeing his jealousy as another payment for your duties to him. But Jungkook’s not miffed because of it; it fuels his own need to have you beneath him, showing you exactly what a good girl you were for him to remove yet another mobster in his way.

“No,” you husk, eyes flickering down to his knuckles, thighs needily rubbing together ever so subtly.

“Good girl.”

He knows you’ve just killed a man. But he’s going to be your bloody alibi, will gladly offer his own head every single time just for your pretty one to stay in place. Because, fuck, he’s never wanted anyone else the moment you entered his life. Never even thought about anyone but you.

“You gonna pay me?”

It’s innocent—innocent in the same way you present yourself—but oh so thrilling when one peeks behind the layers like he does. Jungkook would give you all his money, give you the world, but when your only accepted payment from him is himself, yeah, that’s just fantastic.

“I’ve never skipped a payment.”

“You didn’t.”

You let your legs spread to each side of him, while he’s still sitting on his office chair, now having a perfect view of your already glistening cunt.

“Didn’t wear anything underneath?”

He’s unable to hide his jealousy again, his disdain that you’ll go out like this without him around, but locking eyes with you tells him everything he needs to know. You got rid of them just for him, and him only.

Not wanting to waste any more time with meaningless chatter, Jungkook lets his fingers find their way to your clit, circling it ever so lightly and receiving the reaction he’s been craving. Your pupils, already dilated since you locked eyes with him, now blow out completely, lips parting with a soft, approving gasp.

A gasp that’s like a melody in Jungkook’s head as he stands, free hand cradling your the back of your head, connecting your lips in a slow, gentle kiss. The taste of you on his tongue is like the first hit after he’s been clean, burning his thoughts into insignificant dust until there’s nothing left but you.

When your hands find their way to his chest and neck, scratching his sensitive skin with your long black nails, Jungkook picks up the pace with his tattooed fingers, fucking into you just like you crave it. He can’t slow down, can’t pull his mouth away from yours, but eventually, you trail your lips over his jaw down to his neck, leaving a vibrant red path behind that he’ll fucking wear proudly for hours.

A groan vibrates violently in his throat and chest, as he lets you assault his neck, unbutton his shirt, lets you do whatever the fuck you want until you’re satisfied.

“I killed him for you.”

Fuck, you did. You did it for him.

“Got him out of your way. So you can have what you want.”

Jungkook just wants you. He couldn’t care less about anything or anyone else. And, fuck, he knows it’s dangerous to feel this way, but he can’t help it anymore.

“So good for me,” Jungkook moans as you’ve now freed his aching cock from his trousers, pumping him just the way he needs it.

“So good for you, Jungkook. Only you.”

It nearly tips him over the edge. He’s never heard you say that before, and he regrets not bugging his own office just so he could play this on repeat.

“Only me.”

“Only you, Jungkook.”

Losing control—that’s what you’re doing to him, and he can’t afford it, not when he knows you seek to lose it when you’re with him. So he lets his hand settle on your delicate throat, just under your jaw, forcing you to look at him.

The slight squeeze against your airways only makes you press your hips against his fingers, moving rhythmically, a sound escaping your lips that he wants to drown in forever. As his lips trail along your face, tasting the light sheen of sweat on your flushed skin, it’s everything he’s craved after days spent apart.

“I need you,” you moan, and he knows not to grant you your wish so easily. Instead, he pulls his fingers out of your cunt and slips them into his mouth, hovering over you as he sucks them clean.

“Please.” You mewl, impatient as you always are. 

“How do you want it, princess?”

Your eyes flicker with uncertainty, though he doesn’t understand why—you both know he’s never denied you. Not once.

“Raw.”

The simple word is like a blow to him. Not because he doesn’t want it, but because you’ve never let him fuck you bare before. He’s dreamed of it more times than he’d ever admit, and now that he finally has your permission, he’ll take it eagerly.

“As you wish, princess.” He leans down, lips claiming yours, angling his leaking cock just right. He slips inside with little resistance, but your trembling walls grip him so fiercely he almost loses himself in the feeling.

When your red lips fall open in a silent scream and your eyes roll back as he bottoms out, he has to force himself not to close his own eyes in ecstasy. He wants to burn this image of you, paired with the feeling of your hot cunt wrapped around him, into his memory.

Jungkook starts with a desperate, unrelenting pace, knowing how you like it, how you need it. He gives you everything, wanting only to make you happy, to leave you content. Your hands find his chest, gliding up to his shoulders under his shirt, revealing more of his honeyed skin as you plant soft kisses and love bites on his collarbone. He knows by the end of the night, his skin will be painted red—the colour of you and only you. 

“So big,” you mewl, and he swears his cock swells even more with your words, each one wrapping around him, searing into his mind, destined to haunt him when you’re gone.

“You can take it, princess, can’t you?”

But you don’t answer, too consumed by him as you cling to his muscular build, burying your face in his neck. 

Jungkook trails his hands down your arms, intertwining his fingers with yours and pinning them above your head. He pulls back, slamming into you harder, faster, deeper. Just needs to lock eyes with you, to see if you feel it too. Because if you don’t, it’ll ruin him.

But then he sees it—the want, the need—not just to be fucked by him, but something more. And that’s all it takes for him to aim for that spot, the one he knows will tip you over.

“Jungkook…” your voice trembles, eyes swimming with unshed tears as your cunt clamps down violently around his cock, making it hard—but not impossible��for him to keep thrusting into you.

The sensation of your bare walls, so hot and drenched, is better than he ever imagined. And when your orgasm finally crashes over you, giving him the ultimate confirmation that he’s the one bringing you this overwhelming pleasure, your juices leaking out and onto his trousers, he can’t hold back any longer.

Jungkook comes, hard—harder than he’s ever come before—releasing thick ropes of white deep inside you. Your fingers as well as his, still intertwined, are white-knuckled from how tightly you’re holding on.

But eventually, the high settles, simmering into quiet contentment, though your afterglow always manages to light up his world. He doesn’t get the chance to clean you up as he steps back, watching the cum drip from your hole, too full to contain it. You adjust your dress, close your legs, and stand up as if nothing’s changed.

He tucks his softening cock back into his boxers, fixing his clothes as well. But he avoids eye contact, not out of shame, but because he knows he needs to make a decision. Now.

You’re already walking towards the door, as usual not saying a word after the deed is done. But this time, he can’t just let you go. Not anymore.

“You forgot something.”

The sound of the drawer opening behind you makes you freeze, your hand on the door handle and your shoulders tense, something that’s never happened between you two. It’s strange.

Jungkook pulls a small object from his drawer, walking slowly around the table to stand just a few feet in front of you knowing he needs to end this, now and for all. His gaze is fixed on you, and it’s now or never.

When you finally turn around, your eyes are wide—scared, maybe even betrayed in a way he’s never seen before. But then your shoulders slump, and your expression softens. Tears well up again, but this time they’re accompanied by a smile—one so genuine and youthful, it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen on your face.

Jungkook now on one knee, opens the small black box. The diamond ring inside catches the faint light, sparkling in a million hues as he asks the only question that’s ever felt like the right thing to do in his life. 

“Will you please marry me?”

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

a/n 2: if you liked what you read, pls consider buying me a ☕️ ko-fi.com/runariya 💕

[dyns33]

No Fear

Being a while since I wrote about Homelander. I want to do a second part for this story, but I'm not sure about the ending yet.

Homelander didn't have a soulmate.

That was what was written in his file, written by scientists who had brought him into the world, raised him in a lab, studied him for years, in order to make him the ultimate superhero.

If you had asked Y/N for her opinion, she would have said that they hadn't done a great job, and that the report could be thrown in the toilet.

For the most part, Frenchie's partners seemed to agree with this conclusion.

When he had called her to ask for a favor, she had hesitated. Vought was a big fish, and Y/N had never liked fishing.

The job paid well, as well paid as it was dangerous. But that wasn't the problem. because danger didn't scare her. She wasn't afraid of anything.

If she had to thank her father, it was for showing her that soulmates were bullshit, that no one should be trusted, and that there was no reason to be afraid.

The worst thing that could happen was death, relentless, certain, and since she had died in their basement during the time he had kept her locked up, there was nothing left to make her tremble.

If she hesitated, it was because she didn't know Frenchie's companions well, he wasn't always reliable himself, and she hated wasting her time with undoable jobs.

She had followed from afar the adventures of the small team against the big bad corporation that created fake heroes, and they had never really had any results.

For her part, Y/N didn't give a damn about the supes. She had no direct grievance against them. They were assholes like billions of others in the world, the only difference being that they were harder to kill.

Butcher's rage against Homelander was understandable, after what he had done to his wife, his soulmate. If he didn't try to stab her in the back to achieve his ends, everything would be fine.

The supe didn't have a soulmate, since he was superior to everyone, he came out of a tube and he had no soul. It was possible to use the information to hurt his fragile ego in constant demand for love, but nothing else.

It seemed smarter to avoid annoying Homelander, or even if possible not to attract his attention so that the job would go well.

But Butcher was not able to keep his distance nor his tongue in his pocket, to the point that his best enemy could recognize his scent on other people.

"How's dear William ?" Homelander purred as if everything was normal, while he was alone in the Vought elevator with Y/N, who had posed as a delivery girl.

"Dying but still a pain in the ass."

"I don't think we've met before. He recruits into his little gang of losers and they send them to get killed instead of him ? That's heartbreaking."

"Hmm." was Y/N's response who hadn't looked at him for a single second, focused on counting the time left for Serge's creation to hack the building's systems.

"… Excuse me, I'm telling you I'm going to break your neck."

"That's great, big guy. I would believe it if there wasn't a camera, no proof that I'm a criminal or a danger, and you didn't look like you were totally having a blast. This is my floor, bye."

She even had the audacity to pat him on the shoulder as she left, which left him speechless.

It had really happened without her thinking about it. The problem with being afraid of nothing and not caring at all about Homelander.

If she had been a little more interested, Y/N would have known that he hated being ignored more than anything, but that he was also very intrigued when people weren't scared in front of him.

Since he didn't have a soulmate, he quickly and dangerously latched onto people who made him feel something other than disgust.

It was Frenchie who had insisted on installing surveillance cameras in the small apartment she was renting for the duration of the mission, since she refused to stay with them longer than necessary.

Half-laughing, she had told him that he was a pervert. Since she didn't see the need for this surveillance at all, Y/N had never looked at the footage.

No point in looking at empty rooms or herself sleeping, the rare times she was there.

"Maybe you should look, love." Butcher muttered with a serious look that he rarely displayed, almost as if he was worried about another human being.

"Because you have access to the images ? Do I have to charge you a subscription ?"

"Haha, you're not my type. But obviously, you had an effect on the super cunt."

Since the elevator, Y/N had seen Homelander two or three times. They hadn't really talked, she had continued to talk to him as if he were just a harmless guy with a big maniac smile and his eyes that never left her.

There had been a tiny change the last time. A strange feeling in her chest, a buzzing in her ears, and Y/N had felt like he was coming, which was impossible.

With his vision passing through walls, his sense of smell and his obvious paranoia, Homelander also always seemed to know where she was.

That didn't explain his recurring presence in her apartment.

He had first come when she wasn't there. According to Billy, the supe loved doing that, to study the enemy, mark his territory, prove that he could do what he wanted.

Like a big cat, Homelander could be seen wandering around the rooms, touching absolutely everything, searching the fridge, testing the couch, sniffing her clothes.

Y/N wasn't going to pretend that it made her happy. But they were just objects, nothing really important. While he was having fun like a child, she could enter protected areas with the certainty of not running into him.

The problem was rather when he came while she was there.

Sometimes while she was showering, he could be seen through the window, or who remained in the entrance, staring at the wall, before leaving. It was ridiculous to feel uncomfortable, because he could see through her clothes absolutely all the time.

More and more often, he came while she was sleeping. Y/N had had nightmares for a large part of her childhood. It still happened sometimes, waking her up with a start, feeling stupid.

While she was tormented by her inner demons, her body continued to not give a damn about the superhero standing right next to her. Sometimes, when she was agitated, he would put his gloved hand on her cheek, as if he wanted to reassure her. You couldn't say that it had any effect, but it seemed to please her.

He didn't touch her as much as he could have. Most of the time, he just looked at her, standing more or less close.

Obviously, he sometimes talked to her. The video didn't pick up the sound, so it was impossible to tell what he was saying.

Homelander was in the middle of a long monologue when he strangely froze, leaning over Y/N, and kissing her without warning. A quick, simple kiss, so simple that it hadn't woken her up despite a slight flinch.

It had been several weeks already. Since then, he came regularly, almost all night long, and by hacking into a few surveillance cameras, it was obvious that he also followed her during the day whenever he had the chance.

Y/N had often had this strange feeling when he was around, without ever being able to determine what it was.

"… Shit." she murmured as she looked at the images.

"Shit indeed."

"This is going to be a problem, a real problem. I mean, he was already keeping an eye on Butcher, so now it's going to be impossible to move without that motherfucker on our backs."

"We could use that."

"No, Butcher !" Hughie said with his expression of constant worry that was bordering on constipation. "It's too dangerous !"

It took Homalander coming just to save her for Billy to admit that there was indeed a problem.

For the cunt to save him from the explosion of Stilwell's house to laugh and show him Becca and Ryan, okay. But for him to break the sound barrier, traveling all over town, just to catch Y/N, when he had no way of knowing she was in danger ?

That bastard was known for having no heart, but at that moment, he thought of his wife, he thought of what she had been through, and even if he didn't know Y/N well, he didn't want her to end up like that.

"You have to get out of here."

"And what ? I hide in a zinc-walled dungeon for the rest of my life, praying that he doesn't find me or that he gets tired of me ? Please, Butcher. Because he will get tired of me, I'm sure of it."

She wasn't sure. She knew these types of guys. For a long time, she had hoped that her father would come to his senses and let her go. Then she had stabbed him thirty-two times before burning down the house.

After several attempts, it was obvious that it would not be possible to do the same thing with Homelander. But he hated humans, it could only be a passing fascination.

A way to fill the boredom and emptiness, since he had no other women to harass, all the others having been killed or committed suicide.

Running away could have been a good option, since it would have indicated that Y/N was afraid and it would have been a disappointment to Homelander. But he could have still chased her away just for that.

"Why does it always have to end like this with you Serge ?"

"What can I do, chérie ? It's all your natural charm. You broke my heart the first time we met, so it's not that incredible that you seduced the great fucking Homelander."

"You fall in love with everyone. He hates 'mud people'."

"You're not 'people'. I shouldn't have brought you here, désolé."

Frenchie spoke to her as if she were already dead. The whole team looked at her with sad and resigned eyes.

The receptionist looked at her the same way when Y/N showed up at the reception of the ridiculous Vought tower, asking to see the flying cunt. In fact, the request had made the woman laugh at first, a mocking laugh, but she had still called Homelander's apartment, and that's where she had looked panicked.

But maybe it was more about the fate he had reserved for her for speaking badly to Y/N, and not for the future of the woman who got into the elevator, armed only with her courage and a small knife hidden in her shoe.

Homelander's bright blue eyes looked at it with a small smile, as if he found it adorable, before returning to her face.

"We need to talk." Y/N said calmly as she stood in the middle of the hallway.

"I think so."

And if at the end of their little discussion, there was no way to reason with him, then one of them wouldn't be leaving this apartment, even if she had a pretty good guess as to which one it would be.

[bluee08]

Astro observations 《3》

Disclaimer : Not an astrologer, take it with a grain of salt, only for fun.

🫧 Asteroid Orma in 8th house might be the people to leave an impression of being hella reserved in a mysterious way. Like they might tell you a story and you will always feel like there is something more to it.

🪩 Mars in 3rd house people often say something offending without meaning to and regret the very next second. Trust me it's not their fault, they wanted to say something else and ended up saying something totally unexpected. They also feel guilty about it for days and feel sad that they might have come off rude for no reason.

🫧 Neptune conjuct ascendant, they are the real chameleons. They can mold themselves as per the situation demands. Ngl it comes handy sometimes. Like I remember when I was in 6th grade I was caught into a very serious matter but I pretended as if nothing happened and flew away. When the other guys rattled me out to the teacher, she said It's impossible that I was involved and that she doesn't believe them. She didn't hear a single word against me. Lol no, I wasn't her favorite student or something. It's just that I had maintained a certain reputation among different sect of people as per my own convenience. Call it manipulation if you want, if that doesn't explain the planet itself.

🪩 Pluto trine Lilith, it's not always sexuality that comes to the mind when we hear about these folk. Lilith here is aware that pluto is her benefactor. But it takes time for her to feel comfortable in her own domain. She is powerful here and knows what she wants. Definitely won't take anyone's bullshit. Her transformation can be scary and ruthless if someone tries to pin her down.

🫧 Jupiter sextile Pluto have a deep interest in forbidden things. Learning things that often people consider taboo is their thrill. They may or may not share the knowledge but they are always resourceful about topics relatated to dark themes of life. Feel free to discuss anything with them, they won't judge you infact they will help you inhance your own boundaries. You will be surprised how normal they'll sound while talking about things that might trigger other people even if they have gone through the same.

🪩 The one guy I had a Aphrodite-Eros synastry with made me feel like...idk strange. I was on a constant pedestal. I cared a lot about him. His Eros conjucted my Aphrodite and I looked out for him a lot. There was a thick sexual tension but also comfort. He also made me get a taste of jealousy. Which I don't usually feel. I used to constantly compare myself with the girls he used to interact with. We were not dating but I just couldn't help but feel insecure. Not because of him....idk why I was acting like that when I knew I was pretty enough.

🫧 Mars opposite Venus people get sudden mood swings from doing absolutely nothing to doing everything in next one hour. Oh and they'll do it again if it ain't asthetically pleasing to the eye.

🪩 Sun sextile Saturn, trust me they do know how to control themselves and take things with a grain of salt. Their ego is well maintained and not fragile unlike others. Very understanding and real mature people.

🫧 Sun sextile/trine Moon are the most compassionate and intuned with their selves. They know themselves better than anyone else. Also they always know exactly what they are feeling at any given time. Even if they are depressed at some point they won't give up easily.

🪩 Neptune negatively aspecting Saturn, dreaming big is easy, isn't it? But when you start implanting those dreams in real life your dreams remain dreams only. Don't worry though. It's a lesson. Don't give up, try harder. Dream as big as you want but at the end of the day remember to open your eyes and start afresh with new motivation. And please don't listen to those who tell you to quit it down. Your dreams are not weird or impossible or too much. Those people are just jealous because of how big your ambitions are and how far you are willing to go for it. Don't restrict your imagination for someone else. Believe yourself, you can do it!

🫧 Pluto in 10th house solar return chart can indicate a huge change in academic life or anywhere you are working at. For better or worse you better take precautions before hand. I am having it this year with mars in 3rd house and trust me from an above average student my grades are becoming poor. If I were to describe my graph I can see it coming downhill like a water slide which is creating quite an impression on my parents as well as my teachers. Note the sarcasm.

🪩 Saturn in 7th house could indicate having no interest in relationships at first or people being afraid to ask you out but when you grow up, settle well, you find yourself looking for your better half, resulting in either meeting them late or doing an arrange marriage.

🫧 Saturn opposite ascendant are the people who often get told that they look unapproachable on first glance. Kind of the 'out of league' vibe surrounds them. Which is not always true but I have noticed people do think twice before approaching them. These sweeties are also damn soft on the inside but for only those who do dare to talk to them. They rarely take the initiative themselves. But come ask help from them and they will risk their lives for you.

🪩 Mercury aspecting chiron could indicate healing your wounds by diving into the world of books. You might like to read or write journals when you are feeling down. There might be a small diary or pages that you have written when you were at your lowest. Its also possible that you start writing a novel or something to help you voice out your pain through written words.

🫧 Sun conjuct asteroid Medusa. Damn! You could have curly hair or hairs that are a lot wavy, thick and voluminated. Highly blessed in hair department. Many people might have praised you or complimented on your hair from a very young age. This could also indiacte a lot of body hair. From top to bottom you have body hair and trust me its not a bad thing. Its a blessing of being powerful, embrace it. It's just a hunch but some may have complimented you on that too.

🪩 Mars in 3rd house can't watch porn without audio or no communication during the deed. They always want to hear the sounds, no, they NeeD to hear the sounds raw! Only visuals is boring for them just as adding some weird music to the video. No, its not creating the mood, its ruining my experience, pls stop it.

🫧 You don't wanna hear someone moan who has their personal planets conjucting asteroid Sirene. Trust me you will get addicted. Its insane and I am not bluffing. Their voice may or may not be as addictive in general but in bed? Or when they want to take something from you? You will be trapped even before you blink. It's dangerous.

🪩 What's with Taurus Mars and Laziness? So much potential and still they study few hours before exam, complete assignments few minutes before submission and still have the audacity to say they will easily pass. Like bro if that's how you pass then I can't imagine how you will top....

🫧 Moon in 4th house people are highly invested in family matters. Family comes first to them and then the rest. The kind of people to tolerate an unhappy married life for the sake of their kids because they can't see their family being split apart.

🪩 Mars aspecting Pluto. It doesn't matter if it is positively aspected or negatively aspected, there is a lot of pent up frustration and anger issues underneath this placement. If provoked or underdeveloped could result in a very sudden and violent rage from this person. Better to leave them alone in such situations.

[numbknee]

Tbh Cartman has a lot of shit to apologize to Kyle for but… idk if he ever actually would??

I can see him sort of apologizing in his own indirect way by 1) not being antisemitic towards Kyle anymore and 2) making up for it with acts of service or giving him gifts, but it would be extremely difficult for him to genuinely say the words “I’m sorry” to Kyle about all the shit he’s done to him over the years. It goes against everything he’s ever told himself about how he should feel towards Kyle, and idk if his fragile ego could handle it.

I don’t think Kyle would even expect an apology because he has such low expectations about Cartman regarding his bigotry to begin with, and he’d never believe Cartman was 100% genuine. Also if we’re talking kyman, by the time he realizes his feelings towards Cartman, Kyle will probs resign himself to the fact he’s in love with a horrible person who will never fully respect him.

[reidslovely]

Frat! Peter who basically kicks you out after doing the due but things shift a little bit and he’s warming up to you right? So after sex they talk a little bit and that’s when reader gets up to put her clothes back on, and Peters like “🤨 the fuck are you doing? We were talking” and readers like “:0 oh” and gets back in bed for a cuddle (and maybe they fall asleep together)

Idk idk. I was the one who requested the Toxic! Peter ask a while back, so if you couldn’t tell this was another maladaptive daydream scenario :D. Have a good day

eeeeeee hehehe i love this *giggles and twirls hair* okay so..

instead of liking/hearting this post leave a comment or reblog!!

“Has the sun gone down already? Fuck Emma is gonna lose her mind.”

 You rushed out, your body moving just as fast as the words falling out of your mouth. Your clothes had been scattered around the floor: shirt tossed onto the footboard of Peter’s bed, your underwear even tossed onto the open windowsill. You were sure you would get all kind of comments from Peter’s brothers. 

Reality was Emma, your roommate, wouldn’t care where you were. She never expected you to come home after hanging out with Peter, but you always did. You just liked to use Emma as an excuse to end your hook up with Peter as easily as possible. You wanted to stay, trust you wanted to stay. However, Peter was clear his room was his space and you were not wanted in his space unless explicitly stated. It took you a couple weeks to catch on, after trying to cuddle with him multiple nights in a row failed you figured you’d save your ego from another bruising and leave before he could ask. 

“You don’t wanna hear the rest of my story?”

There was a fragility to his voice he looked up at you with his big doe eyes, and you swallowed your pride. “I didn’t even get to the good part, you didn’t even answer my question about how your day was. You can’t leave yet. I won’t allow it.”

His hand reached out and grabbed your hip, the skin where he grabbed going warm. You swallowed what was remaining of your pride and grabbed his wrist. 

“But your rule.” You whisper in return, thumb stroking the underside of his wrist. 

“Fuck the rule. I want you, in my bed, where it’s warm and you aren’t walking away from my conversation. Now get your ass back in here.” 

“Oh..” Was all that you could manage out, crawling back into the soft gray sheets. Your legs intertwining with his, head laying against his arm. 

“Now I’ll finish my story after you tell me how your psych test went.”

You smiled and started recounting your day following up to and after the psych test, even mentioning how you forgetting to turn your phone off during the test and Peter calling you almost costed you your grade. 

You listen to the rest of his story about how he, Miles, and Harry had been trying to get everything together for the party this weekend and Miles got his fake I.D. taken away. You smiled adding commentary here and there, the two of you falling into a comfortable silence besides the soft mumble of the sitcom on the TV. It wasn’t long before either of you were asleep.

The next morning you woke up to Peter turning off your alarm, his lips pressing to your forehead mumbling something. The weight of the mattress shifted as he got up and walked to the bathroom. You tucked your head under the pillow listening to the shower turn on. 

“Come on bashful, get up. Shower and we gotta get to class.” 

You smile as you peek out from under the pillow, maybe waking up in the Theta Tau house isn’t so bad after all.

___

taglist: @helloheyhihowdyheya @sincericida @moonyslove78 @a-lumos-in-the-nox @messymissy @adhdhufflepuff @toomanyfictionalboyfriends @ateliefloresdaprimavera @eevylynn

[dollwrites]

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐞 — 𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐳𝐚

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!Muzan’s favorite!reader, grudgefucking, degradation, akaza’s damaged ego, choking, very brief broken bones, reader’s simpy, toxic vibes, all characters featured are 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ do not repost or translate. please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading <3

𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴 ∣ run from me by guccihighwaters

“‘Worthless.’ What does he know about worthless?” Akaza’s teeth were clenched tight, grinding. brows drawn close together, eyes ablaze with hatred. “I do everything for him. Dedicate my existence to Lord Muzan and his fucking goals.” he was talking to himself, working himself up into a hotter rage than when he’d first grabbed you. your knees dig into the dirt, and you claw helplessly at the bark of the tree he’s pinned you against, the rough edges scraping at your face. you couldn’t moan loud enough to drown out his growling, or the sound of his hips snapping against yours, but you didn’t want to. you relished in the sound of just how wet he made you, and how you squelched when he plowed into you. if you could manage to hold yourself steady, you would release the tree and reach behind to spread your ass cheeks to open your body up for him completely— to take you however he wanted. but Akaza was fucking you too hard, pounding you relentless against the massive trunk. so, you’d had to simply hold on for dear life.

“Ah…” you mewled, trying to push back to meet his vigorous thrusting. it was futile, you couldn’t even begin to match his rhythm. “Akaza, forget about what Muzan said, just fuck me—“

“Shut up,” he hisses, one hand snaking around your throat to hold on to it with a tight vice, the other planted firm against your spine, forcing an unnatural arch for your position. there was a defensiveness in his growl, as if his loyalty was tested vicariously through your words. “You’re part of the problem, you know that? The way he fawns over you in front of us. You’re not even Kizuki,” his numbered eyes coast over the shape he’s put your body in, and slide upwards to see your gems— he was right. you weren’t one of the twelve demon moons; your body couldn’t take enough of Muzan’s blood to give you a ranking. “Makes me sick.” the smallest croak escapes your parted lips as he squeezes, and you bend to his will, dropping your head back to watch him. though you’re perched on your knees, he’s not. balancing on the balls of his feet, his knees are spread wide to avoid getting in the way of his furious hips.

his grip on your throat was tight enough that, had you still been human, breathing would’ve been impossible. you would’ve suffocated, but right now, you weren’t scared of Akaza.

you adored him.

you always had.

even if he didn’t feel the same, even if he never would, you would love him forever, you’d decided. there was much to love about him. his loyalty, his strength, the heart stopping curve of his lips over sharp, white fangs. the way his baritone whistled through the night like velvet.

you wanted to protest for him, tell him that you never asked or even wanted the king of demons to treat you like a fragile doll, a daughter to dote on, but you knew it would only make him angrier. he hated that you loathed Muzan and yet the demon lord would never so much as raise his voice to you, but would turn right around and cut an upper moon down for a sloppy job. besides, judging by just how mercilessly he was fucking you, you could assume that it wasn’t coincidental that he’d tracked you down right after reporting to Muzan; he’d wanted to destroy something, and you were the perfect candidate— Muzan’s adopted daughter. it’s a shame Muzan would kill him if he ever found out, but you knew you’d take it to the grave if you had to.

“Weak, little bitch.” he snarls, clamping down harder on your neck, and you swoon, your nails digging into the tree trunk harder. bark splinters and erupts from the trunk, crackling as your fingers sink into the wood. you didn’t have the strength to claw the whole tree apart, but you were chipping away at it. “What’s he see in you, anyways?” his angle changes; he slides one foot forward to scoot closer, press his torso to your back, and pump into your cunt deeper. you squeal, but only for a moment, before his other hand comes up from the other side of your head to clamp his hand over your mouth and muffle the sound. “That— that’s what I’m talking about. You can’t even take a cock without screaming my fucking ear off. Are you so fucking pathetic that you can’t even take it quiet like a decent cocksleeve? You have to squeal and whine?” your breasts ground into the harsh bark as he presses you closer to the foliage, golden eyes gleaming in the pale moonlight that illuminates the sordid display. you nod, looking back at him with nothing but twinkling adoration and affection in your heavily lidded gaze, squeaking slurred as you’re forced to kiss his palm.

you couldn’t help it, the upper moon was decimating your body in a way so delicious, you had to cry out. it was the type of brutal fucking that made you grateful you’d become a demon— lest you never be able to experience a love this cruel.

your walls were clenching around him just as merciless, spasming, stretching around his girth and hugging tight, refusing to let him pull out. “Fuck,” he grunted, a moment’s weakness allowing the moan to slip out of his lips, and he immediately hisses. brows cinching tighter. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. You’re so needy. You want it so bad? Take it, then.” his hips flurry at a nearly incomprehensible speed and velocity, pounding you over and over into the wood. you scream in vulgar delight and surprise, your body yielding to whatever he wanted to do to it, but that only makes him more enraged. his fist clenches around your throat, and you hear a snap. a rush of shock and pain floods your senses and you realize he’s crushed your trachea. a whistle, a choke escapes you, eyes welling up with tears, but he didn’t stop.

and you didn’t want him to.

it only took a matter of seconds for the bones to heal, cracking as they shift back into their proper place. Akaza’s hand had abandoned your throat, and instead pressed on top of his other one on your mouth, using it now as leverage to keep you pinned in place to fill you with reckless abandon with impossible force.

“P—please—“ you whimper against his hand, batting tears away with your thick lashes, “don’t st— don’t stop—!”

“Tch,” it’s not a word, is a puff of air forced through his teeth, an exclamation of disgust, but you can’t help but moan, eyelids fluttering. you can feel how hard he is, even as he degrades you, he’s swollen and throbbing in your guts. “You look so pitiful, struggling to take me, but you love the abuse so much you can’t even keep your eyes open.” you were nodding to every word, hugging the tree to keep from slouching back against him. his fucking was maddening, and you couldn’t pretend that it wasn’t. “What would He think if he saw you like this? He… He chews me up and spits me out, but you’re there,” it’s getting harder and harder for him to speak, his moans cutting in every so often, as he relishes in how you submit for him, “you’re here to spread your fucking legs, eh? You— you want me to fuck all my humiliation out? Fuck away the anger? Right into your weak, little body? As if you could handle it?”

you nod again, eyes glazed but hopeful, unwavering admiration in your blown out pupils. your mouth hang open, dribbling drool over his hand and allowing your incessant whimpering to flow free.

he takes one look at you and knows you’re honest. and he groans, feeling himself fighting a losing battle with the pending orgasm creeping up on him. he didn’t understand it, why you wanted him so badly when he loathed you. and maybe, he didn’t have to. maybe he shouldn’t question it at all. there was a rush of confidence that came along with ruining you— a power surge as he heard your whiny, little yelps. he could get off on them alone, though he’d never tell you that, but the idea that you were untouchable— that Muzan had forbade any of his demon moons from so much as laying a single finger on you, and he was able to fuck you out like this— he felt less like a demon and more like a god. it was an addicting, exhilarating sensation, power beyond what even he was used to.

“Well,” he grunted harshly, finally, with acidic sarcasm leaking from his lips, “anything for Lord Muzan’s favorite.”

[aqualesha]

The Balladeer's Regret - Scaramouche x GN! Reader

character : Scaramouche

prompts : 19. “i can’t do this anymore” & 24. “just leave me alone”

summary : loving Scaramouche is hard, and you were aware of it. yet you never stopped loving him. his harsh words may sting, but you know deep down that he was a gentle soul and he never meant those things he said. you fell in love with Kunikuzushi, so gentle and fragile. if only he had noticed earlier how badly he had hurt you. he wanted to turn back time. but he knew that he couldn’t. he had lost everything because of his own foolishness.

- spoilers for Sumeru Archon Quest Act 2 & 3, pure angst/no-comfort, cursing, arguments, scara spitting harsh words, scara’s real name spoiler, scara’s past, not proofread

- word count : 1.8k

~ my entry for @versadies angstober writing collab - farewell, love

“Don’t leave me…”

“Please stay…”

“I didn’t mean all those things…"

These were the words that have been echoing inside his mind now. His mind was begging for him to drop his ego and call out to you, to stop you. He didn’t want you to leave him like the others. Not when he didn’t have anyone else but you.

How ironic of him, to feel distraught when you turned on your heels to walk out the door of your shared home. He recalled the poisonous words that spilled from his mouth, that were directed towards you. The look of hurt in your eyes and the way your expression faltered when he pushed you away and raised his tone at you. He didn’t mean anything that he said.

He swore that he could feel his non-existent heart shattering at the sight of your glistening tears cascading down your cheeks and your hushed whisper of “I’m sorry..” while you backed away from him. He could never forget how your voice trembled when you uttered the words that had Scaramouche breaking down right after.

“I still love you.”

He had taken your kindness for granted. You had always been with him even before he was known as Scaramouche. You had been with him since he was nothing but a broken puppet, Kunikuzushi. You accompanied him and lent your shoulder for him to cry on when you found him cornered by the darkness of Shakkei Pavilion. You saved him from his greatest suffering, which was loneliness and betrayal.

But the greatest pain was being betrayed by his own creator, his mother. The mother who was supposed to take care of her child with care. He never got to feel a mother’s love, for his mother replaced him with another puppet after taking notice that Kunikuzushi was too weak. He cried in his dreams, which showed his vulnerability and his fragility. A puppet that has emotions simply couldn’t be called a puppet, now can it?

Kunikuzushi had always been a gentle being, far from what his creator was expecting for a divine being, a god’s replacement. Yet, he couldn’t do anything as he was created with these human emotions. He swore to lock away all remaining emotions he had in himself so that he could grow stronger. He wanted to show his creator that he is not weak.

That was until he met you. Your existence in his life changed his objective and purpose. Even so, he still desired to claim the godhood he should’ve obtained if not for his stupid emotions getting in the way hundreds of years ago.

You had always loved him, no matter the circumstances. But you couldn’t fully agree with him when he decided to seek help from Il Dottore to achieve godhood. You knew how crazy it sounded and how far Dottore could go to achieve anything he desired. He was the 2nd Harbinger for Archon’s sake.

You weren’t against the idea of Scaramouche reaching divinity, but you were worried about his safety too. But you knew better than to interrupt their plans. You could get your head blown if you try to mess with Dottore, even when you two were quite well acquainted a few years ago when you were still in the Fatui. But that was long ago.

Ever since you both started living in Sumeru, you rarely ever see Scaramouche coming home. He’d either stay in his office or not come home at all for a few days. It was starting to make you worry. A puppet doesn’t need sleep, but he wasn’t completely a synthetic puppet. You had the right to make sure that he’d taken care of himself too.

The clock in your shared bedroom was ticking ever-so-slowly, making you sigh for the umpteenth time. “This can’t keep going on..” That was when you decided to have a talk with him once he really comes back.

You didn’t know how it turned out like this. It was supposed to be a simple talk regarding his absence and his goal to achieve divinity. That’s all. How naive of you to think that he’d apologize just like he always did. You really thought that you could simply convince him when you were talking about the only goal he tried so hard to achieve?

He was starting to think that you were doubting him and his capabilities. He was created to become a god, so why were you against it now? Didn’t you promise him to always be with him until he has fulfilled his goal to become a god? Are you betraying his trust now? How pathetic.

He was losing his temper. He knew that he couldn’t control his anger that well. The way you worded it made him realize that all humans are the same. They can’t be trusted. “Kuni, I’m just saying that what you’re planning with Dottore is quite.. dangerous.” Dangerous, you say? He was a divine being, created with the power that equals those of gods. Don’t you dare spit out those stupid nonsense in front of him.

“Are you underestimating me and my capabilities? Come on, you knew better than that.” The way he glared at you made you feel small under his gaze. It made you feel terrified of the sudden change in his aura. It has become unsettling and dark. You fucked up and there was nowhere you could hide.

"It wasn’t that.. But- You’re going to hurt the people in Sumeru.. Besides, this nation already has its own god, so why bother taking her place?“ You were careful with your words, trying to not worsen the situation you’re in. The atmosphere was getting tenser each passing time that you could barely breathe through your lungs.

“That small kid? She couldn’t even do anything. She’s weak and useless at this point. I’m just doing a favor for her people. I can be a better deity than her.” His tone was no longer the gentle tone that Kunikuzushi always used. It was Balladeer taking over the conversation. His voice was full of venom, and he stared at you with a look that feared you.

A look of disapproval was written on his face. He must’ve hated you now. How stupid you were, to bring up about his purpose of life when he trusted you to always be with him.

It had to be said even though it was going to hurt both you and him. You really didn’t want him to get hurt. It was the least you could do. “How do you know that Lesser Lord Kusanali wasn’t able to look after her people? As far as I know, she’s the gentlest and the kindest Archon.. Please have faith in her. You don’t have to do all this just because of your goal to achieve godhood. Ei had acknowledged your strength so please…”

You almost ran out of breath after holding it in for far too long. You shifted your gaze towards Scaramouche and you were stunned. He was taking quick steps towards you before holding you by the hair. Disappointment and hatred could be seen in his eyes as he made you face him directly.

"What is it that’s so fucking hard for you to understand. I was born as a divine being and this is how I’d get what I deserved. Your opinions don’t matter to me. You’re just a weak mortal who just happened to have some pity for me, hmm? You never cared, didn’t you? I should’ve known better than to trust a mortal.“ He looked at you with pure loathe. You couldn’t bear to see him looking at you as if you’ve been nothing but a burden and a hindrance.

You ignored the aching sensation on your scalp as he was still holding a fistful of your hair in his hand. The sharp pain in your heart hurt more than anything you’ve ever felt. You tried to grab him by the shoulder to make him halt his movements. It hurts so much… “Don’t touch me…” He let go of your hair and took a step away. You dropped onto your knees, hissing from the searing pain as you held your scalp with your hand. It took a lot of strength in you to hold the tears in. This truly wasn’t what you had expected.

You called out his name in a small voice. “Scara-” “Don’t you dare say anything else!” You still continued even though it was clear that he didn’t want to hear anything from you. “I can’t do this anymore..” You uttered while leaning against the wall to steady yourself. He then laughed mockingly at you, showing that he had expected this from the start.

"Are you now? Have you finally realized that you were simply useless? Look at you, pathetically crying over small insults. Humans are weak, they are too vulnerable and worthless compared to a divine being. You were just a pawn in my plan, after all. You meant nothing to me. Your pathetic emotions will only distract me from achieving my goal.“ He was too harsh, but he could care less. These stupid emotions will only drag him down.

“Oh and one more thing,” He continued while taking a few steps toward where you were weakly standing on your feet. His eyes settled on you as he gave you a deadly glare that almost had you shedding more tears. “Just leave me the fuck alone, and never show yourself in front of me again, you traitor."

It dawned on him like crashing waves. He had lost you, the only person who stayed long enough and sacrificed their whole life to be with him. He knew he fucked up. But his ego was too big for him to chase after you and apologize, even though his mind was practically screaming at him.

He never knew warmth and love anymore. His artificial heart was beating frantically in his chest. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry… He could never take those harsh words back. You probably loathe him now.

He deserved it. He was the one who had wished for this. He wanted you to leave him alone, so you obliged by getting out of his life completely. He lashed out at you and put the blame on you. He broke your heart. Your gentle and fragile heart that he once swore to protect. Five words were all it took to completely lose everything. He had lost you, his other half. You, who had given him your heart to feel the warmth of love and care.

Now, he felt nothing but numbness and emptiness. You must’ve felt lonely too when he wasn’t home for a long time. The deafening silence in every corner of your home was driving him insane. The atmosphere in your shared room had never felt this cold. The mattress felt hard under his weight. The duvet felt uncomfortable. Something was wrong. No, everything felt wrong. It lacked warmth and love. Something that he could never gain again. All because of his foolishness.

He was foolish to have pushed you away for his own selfishness. He was even more foolish to even think that he deserved a happy ending despite all the horrible things he had done. Especially towards you.

[siren-sashimi]

Dating the Uchiha boys - the down sides Headcanon list [Uchiha Sasuke, Uchiha Itachi, Uchiha Obito, Uchiha Shisui x gn! reader]

Contents and warnings: quarrels in a relationship, egotistical behavior, toxic masculinity, emotional repression, arguments

Sasuke Uchiha Oh boy, where do I even begin?

A lot of his issues - most of them begin with him having a little brother inferiority complex.

He is a master through effort. While Sasuke can be and is rightfully proud if his achievements, his pride can easily fall apart when he doesn't receive recognition from his family.

Since he's so fixated on his family's approval, he tends to blend out any other significant relationship while working towards his goal.

In short: Proud but fragile ego. 

While he would never hurt you physically or aiming at hurt you emotionally or psychologically, when Sasuke is in a reckless mood or angry he lash out such harsh feelings on you by being abrasive, grumpy, or saying that your help is useless.

Sasuke has a hard time processing feelings, mostly he processes them via anger.

Sometimes looks for fights/arguments when he's in a foul mood. Another person making a joke on Sasuke's expenses. Expect that you need to drag Sasuke out of the room before things go out of hand.

Positive note: He is capable of arguing with you. Or let's say: Your argument can end in aggressive shouting matches where he can be an insensitive ass. Afterwards he will stew in his anger and a bit of selfrighteousness before he slowly considers that there might be truth to what you said...

Here's the issue: Sasuke does deeply care for you. He doesn't actually date you as much as he fell in love with you and got over himself to ask you to stay by his side. His kind of love is quiet, more expressed in action, due to the fact that he isn't good at expressing himself with words. So he does seem withdrawn, or it doesn't seem comprehensible why he keeps you around four outsiders. (Even for you by times.)

Homeboy can change and get better but the process demands time, clear boundaries, and patience...

Once figured out that he's really good at sex and for a while tries to use to distract you from arguments.

You have to be the mature one in this relationship.

Generally, it would be better if you had an established friendship where most qualms between the two of you are settled before you feel ready to take on all the complication with romantic problems...

Itachi Uchiha

Constantly under pressure from family as oldest son. By times the family and social expectations will interfere with your private life planning.

Itachi has a hard time fighting back, by times he doesn't even know that he should. Sometimes all the demands loaded on him take up too much of his energy and health to have the energy to fight back. Other times some things are too ingrained in him by his upbringing too properly reflect on how adequate they actually are...

When you try to explain to him that he should not take up everything or say no, he needs a long time realizing that this isn't a(nother) request for your happiness but that you see unhealthy patterns, dynamics, and demands put on him. He's barely used to people being concerned for him for his own sake.

Is unconscious of him guarding himself from his lover. He will act as everything was fine without opening up about things that worry him. It takes a long time to slowly remove the bricks from his walls.

Another family issue is his relationship with his younger brother: Sasuke is one of Itachi's top priorities, even when Sasuke messes up. Their dynamic is not always harmonic either because Sasuke feels so often inadequate, if not jealous when compared to his brother.

It's quiet asymetrical how much work you've to put into Itachi standing up for himself (and your relationship) against his family but he will immediately do a 180 flip for his little brother, no questions asked.

Can't take breaks. Tries not to let his composed façade crack, so even if he knows if he's overworked, struggles with health, he's too stressed out by all the things he wants to get done to stop for his own sake.

At risk to implode from external pressure. 

What the two of you need is private space where time belongs to you and into which his family can't just barge in as they please. 

It's disheartening how little he would actually open up to you, be vulnerable. It's about him feeling safe around you to be himself. Give him time don't push him but set boundaries how much you can bear to see him struggling with the weight on his shoulder.

Obito Uchiha

a lot of problems begin and end with Obito's deeply seated insecurity. Things like his work or making his idealized visions give a strong sense of control and mastering the situation so they became his compensatory tactics. Not that he can't learn and rethink small things but he can be so stubborn, some criticism may reach far deeper into is self-confidence than you or even he actually expected.

Since his childhood he spend so much time in isolation, he can also be emotionally immature and trying to fill the void from all the things he has been deprived of.

Emotionally immature when it comes to romance. In the beginning of your relationship his state of mind is basically the one of a hormonal teenager.

Being with someone in a romantic way fulfils multiple needs for Obito: Being finally shown affection he's so starved for, well um... "physical yearning", finally a stable constant in his life.

May not seem like it but only functions at work because there hardships of life can be solved with a clear goal. Tendencies to be a workaholic to bury emotions he doesn't know how to handle.

In the beginning you're basically an idol  for his emotional salvation. You having diverging expectations, or don't need or want all cliché romantic gestures but Obito being himself is something he needs to learn.

Needs basic sex ed. He knows a lot from having read Icha Icha during down time but oh boy. Some moments when you first had sex were baffling if not hilarious with some ideas Obito had.

So headstrong. When he's convinced of what he does is correct counterarguments are either ignored or escalate into heated fights. Takes counterarguments 

But also actually very insecure. Obito is so insecure about conflict, too self conscious of his looks, of past mistake that he tries to overcompensate with any other quality, only to then implode that he's not enough in any way.

Obito needs to learn that differing opinions don't mean immediate break up or the end of the world. You'll love him through the thick and the thin. 

He will need to learn that pushing you away because of self loathing is what causes the rift, not what he hates himself about him.

Shisui Uchiha Most stable of all of them.

but like all of them his family, more accurately their expectations for other family members, are a source of omnipresent pressure.

Since he's not part of the main family expectations are not as high but he too has to act the proper part.

Tries to keep you away from family affairs to the extent of him wanting to do with them as little as possible. 

Itachi's fine, Sasuke's around too but these two are the exception. Even they won't talk about family matters though.

So there's always a part of his life you feel excluded from, the part Shisui only shares with Itachi.

Easy going in relationships but kinda tends to overlook underlying problems. To Shisui being with you is a refuge from family drama where he's the happiest, and well... compared to what the Uchihas can be up to any problem can be minor.

But Shisui is understanding though. If you clearly speak your mind how you're unhappy with the way certain things are, he might be able to get around to better things.

But you also need to be an active part in your time together. Whereas Shisui's cousins have very personal flaws, Shisui himself is a very reasonable person. You can grow together.

A bit secretive. Nothing major that would burden your relationship still you wish he'd be able to talk about uncomfortable things a bit more...

Don't swallow up frustration but look out for the right time to confront Shisui with things that bother you. If he feels stressed with work and family matters he can get quiet aggressive in tone.

[wannaeatramyeon]

So, my request is that I need a unhinged woman with looking men(whoever you want). When I mean unhinged, I MEAN UNHINGED WOMAN WHO’S A PERSONIFICATION OF FEMALE RAGE!! LIKE DURING THE FIGHT CAN AND WILL BEAT THE LIVING SHIT OUT OF ANYONE WHILE LAUGHING PSYCHOTICALLY.

But really Ptj truly lacks in female characters, like we want to see woman fight and beat asses too.

And love your writing;)

Hi anon - not me seeing this and jumping on it IMMEDIATELY. GIVE ME COMPETENT WOMEN. GIVE ME WOMEN THAT CAN FIGHT

I don't think I've got the unhinged quite there but this is to fun to not put down everything and starting writing. Adding a Goo and Sammy in the works for later too. Thanks for the ask and glad you're enjoying my brain rot!

Gun Park with Unhinged F!Reader

He wasn't a complete disappointment (Gun Park | Goo Kim | Samuel Seo | James Lee/DG)

You are nothing like Daniel Park.

The last time Gun had felt fear, it was fun. The rush of blood in his ears, the adrenaline cursing through his veins. Exchanging blows with a worthy opponent, with a potential successor.

This? This was fight or flight or freeze.

Gun had never retreated from a fight, unless it served the bigger picture. And he certainly had never frozen before.

Being overwhelmed, truly, wholly, completely, wasn't a feeling he was used to.

You stand there over his beaten body, blood and skin under your nails, a sardonic grin upon your lips and rabid glint in your eyes.

"Is this little Gun all out of bullets?" You pout mockingly at him, as the realisation dawned that you had been playing with your prey all along.

You had to admit - at times he had even given you a thrill. But then he had to go along and break. How fragile.

You sigh as you take your eyes off him, licking the blood off your fingers.

Gun landed a few hits at first, like a true fighter - never holding back his strength even against a woman.

(That was usually the first thing people underestimated about you. These silly little boys with their poor delicate egos and idiotic misplaced gallantry.)

When his fist connected with your face, you couldn't help but let out a shriek of excitement.

Oh. Oh. Maybe you finally found someone that actually lived up to their reputation.

And sure, he managed to go a couple rounds with you, but it wasn't long before he was out of moves and out of time.

You gave him a peek of your demon, and he almost felt it engulf his entire being and swallow him in darkness.

How sad. Really. This could have been something great.

You kneel down and gently run your hands through his hair, "At least you weren't a complete disappointment."

All Gun could do was look at you with rage and fury and hate. How fun, another enemy.

You press two fingers to your lips, kissing them and transferring it to his. If he had anything left, maybe he would have tried to bite you.

You pull out a slip of paper and pen from your pocket, brushing away the lint and dirt and cross another inadequate name off your list.

"Who... are... you?" Gun gritted out, struggling with the words. Oops, you did almost crush his throat.

You stand back up and give him a shrug. He didn't deserve to know.

[tswwwit]

Med student dipper finding bill on the verge of dying and panics, I mean sure he's an ass but he doesn't deserve to die

Sure, here's a thing!

The body lying before him is a mess. And that's putting it politely.

Dipper's clenching his jaw tight, and the expression he's wearing can't be reassuring. He schools it back to a neutral state, trying to take in -

There's a lot to take in.

All his training, the tests. The patient practice and medical diagrams. Nothing prepared him for a body like this. All this blood, not in vials or on the cool white sheets of a hospital bed, but bare and leaking on the ground. Nothing between him and the reality that life is fragile, and can end so, so soon.

Training fails. So does tact.

Dipper takes a shaky breath, and says, "You're dying." "Pfft, hardly." The demon waves an idle hand - the one not holding his chest, failing to keep that weird, viscous blood inside. How he manages to smirk despite everything is a mystery. "I've had way worse!"

Bullshit, he's - A demon, sure, but anatomical facts are facts. With a hole that big, Bill Cipher shouldn't be moving, much less able to talk.

"This? Is basically nothing! Not even a patch on the times I've had a limb come off, or been impaled." Bill Cipher lies on the grass, waggling his hand in a so-so gesture. Despite the half-circle of chest missing, bitten right out of the torso. "Or even the time someone blew up this body's entire skull!" A low whistle, a shake of said very intact head - then a grin. "Though that one worked out pretty well, if I do say so myself."

Bill buffs the nails of his free hand against his ruined shirt, examining them with a bit of pride. How is he still moving.

Dipper stares at the concave gap in his torso. The slow leaking of the thick blood hasn't spread far, but it's just. Part of Bill is missing, Dipper finds it tough to look at. His stomach churns.

If it hadn't been Bill, it would have been him.

A dragon is. Well. A dragon. Who the hell knows why Dipper got snatched up and flown back to the den in the first place, but once he was there he wasn't getting out anytime soon. Or in one piece.

Dipper's talents aren't meant for combat, only trickery, and his chosen profession. Five minutes and three bites later, he'd have been a fairly forgettable snack. A random demon wandering in was the best stroke of luck Dipper's ever had, or could ever have, in a million years.

Hell, there's a lot of people who would take this entire situation as a win. One fire-breathing lizard gone, one fire-wielding demon about to follow. Two monsters, taking each other out with one stupid, pissy, ego-powered destructive battle.

Dipper, though, is perfectly fine. Aside from some burns and acid spit marks on his jeans, he's in great shape. He could just turn, walk away, and leave this monster to die next to the other, slaughtered one.

With this amount of damage, Bill Cipher isn't going anywhere. Eventually, he'll bleed out, pass out, pass away-

And Dipper would never forgive himself for letting it just... happen.

He takes a deep, calming breath. Lets it out, slow.

Okay. Back to basics.

He drops to his knees next to his patient. The scene is safe, the dragon's - Dipper glances over his shoulder - very, very dead. Bill himself is in no position to do much but be mildly annoying, by continuing to talk about more grievous wounds he's seen and experienced.

No airway trouble, since he's talking. It's amazing he's breathing at all. Even with a good portion of the lower chest gone, Bill hasn't passed out. And has enough air to talk, so. Probably fine? Yeah.

Dipper takes Bill's free arm in both hands. As a neat side effect, it stops the dramatic gesturing.

Pulse is.... slow, at first. But it picks up as Dipper takes it at the wrist, then a bit quicker at the neck. If this were a regular human he'd consider it bradycardia. By demonic standards, it's... probably fine? He thinks?

He checks Bill's face - grinning, and wiggling his fingers at Dipper - so, no signs of distress. He's not certain how to evaluate disorientation in a demon, either. Skip that for now.

So far, Dipper's working with the idea that this isn't immediately fatal. The next step is inspecting the wound, and see whether or not he can do anything about it.

"Okay." Dipper moves to check the damage, and finds it covered with ash, and shreds of cloth, and that acidic dragon drool - with this much in the way, it's hard to evaluate. "Bill, I'm going to have to cut your shirt off."

"Sure! Need a knife?" Bill produces one from seemingly nowhere. Dipper leans away, startled. That's. More enthusiasm than he expected. Bill notes his response, eyebrow rising. "What, you squeamish or something?"

"Uh." Dipper hesitates just a moment, but that's long enough for Bill to do the job himself, splitting his shirt open bare from chest to groin, which is. A lot. With a flourish of the knife, he lies back, tucking his arm behind his head.

And. What is there to say to that. "Thanks?"

Bill just gives him a slow, slow smile, and tucks his arms behind his head. Whatever look he's going for, it's too oozy to be effective.

Despite Bill's best attempts to be an ass about it, Dipper clears the wound area, as best he can. Not fully making eye contact, it's going to be bad. It's going to be a mess. Odds are he's going to have to tell a demon he's dying, even, and it's -

Dipper glances down.

It's.

The first, insane comparison that comes to mind, is 'like a cake'.

Bill's human enough. On the outside. Layers of skin, and muscle, and bone, and a considerable amount of 'blood' from the - Dipper feels it deserves the quote marks, now - 'body'.

But where there should be organs, and interstitial fluid, and a broken, leaking, seeping mess, a tangle of bitten flesh, there's. Not.

Organ-like shapes, certainly. They work unimpeded by any holes, pulsing, and alien. Apparently alive. Not spilling anywhere, either, since they're threaded through a pitch-black, non-leaky substance. This demon's body is like... layers of human fondant, over a weird jelly filling.

Dipper grimaces. Shakes his head, hand hovering. Not certain where to touch. Or if that would even be a good idea.

The human part is leaking everywhere, though. And when Dipper tentatively presses against it to slow the bleeding, one finger on the other bit - a couple drops of bright yellow ichor ooze slowly out, landing with a sizzle on the ground. He flinches back -

And Bill starts giggling. Like that freakin' tickled.

Dipper sits back up, shutting his eyes tight. He raises his hands as if in surrender. Which he's not doing, he just. Needs a second.

Overall, his professional evaluation is that the patient isn't dying. Not having a great time by any means, but outside of immediate danger. Theoretically, something could be done to help the... damage -

But. Bill Cipher's way, way outside of any of Dipper's experience. And that includes the several courses he's taken on nonhuman beings. Even the ones about demons, and otherwordly creatures, and spirits. Hell, the seminar he attended about elementals didn't mention this.

Bill is - or rather, Bill's wearing? Bill exists in? Some type of bizarre, semi-organic, mostly-magical hodgepodge of kinda-human kinda-demonic.... molded material? Specially created container? Oddly organized organic goop?

Whatever it is, Dipper's got no idea how it works. Or what would work on it.

"I don't-" Know what to do, Dipper almost says. Despite himself, his mind is racing. "I don't think I can fix you?"

The upturned inflection betrays him. Bill's grin brightens by several degrees.

"Now there's my curious guy! Part of you does know you can fix me! Don't overthink it, kid." He slaps the wound with a wet sound, making Dipper cringe back in sympathy. "You've got the mojo, so let's get things moving."

"I have life magic, yeah," Dipper adds. He fails to disguise the irritation in his voice. Shit, he has to learn to control that. Even if the patient's being a condescending dick. "I just. Don't think that works on demons."

"And typically, you'd be right!" Bill raises a finger, wagging it at Dipper. He almost looks proud that Dipper knew some random demon fact, like a weirdo. "Lucky for both of us, I'm in an... interesting body situation. Your stuff'll work just fine."

"No matter how much 'stuff' I have, there's nothing to reattach." Dipper gestures vaguely at the still-steaming corpse, smelling of iron and salt. There's a portion of Bill's torso in its stomach, and though the dragon's dead, he's not going digging around in there. He'd lose a limb in the attempt. "You can't regrow-"

"Stop thinking 'human', then. I'm nothing of the sort!" Bill chides, wagging a finger at him. Dipper pushes his arm back down, but it pops up again to snag him by the shirt. "All I need is some tailoring done on the flesh-suit. Super-duper easy for a guy like you!"

Dipper starts to protest. Then shuts his mouth, and ducks his head.

Maybe - just maybe - Bill has a point. Whatever this is, it's miles away from normal, what with how Bill's still alive and talking, to boot.

The sheer absurdity of Bill's body situation did make him hesitate. Wondering what he could do, with something this clearly, purely magical.

What Bill's proposing is still insane, of course. Dipper doesn't know why he entertained it in the first place.

Despite not having graduated yet, Dipper's used to helping save lives. He's done a few rounds, and shadowed several doctors. Bill's injury is the worst he's ever seen. He's the worst, most deadly being Dipper's met. Leaking and immobile as he is, he's still a demon. They're absolutely the worst.

But in terms of patients? Bill doesn't even rank in the top ten.

"Hello!" Bill's glaring. He clears his throat, and snaps his fingers twice. "Tired of waiting, kid. Do I gotta ring a bell for service here or what?"

Maybe in the top nine, or eight, though.

Dipper takes a deep breath, and lets it out. "Look. This is way beyond what I'm qualified to do." He squeezes Bill's hand, held in his own, and feels a deep sense of relief. "I can help stabilize you. Though you're, uh, pretty stable, and I can call an ambulance - " He glances around the woods. "Or. Get us at least closer to where I could call one. I might have healing magic but I can't just. Do it."

The entire idea is insane. Recklessly use medical magic on an unknown being? On a strange, unfamiliar semi-organic whatever the fuck body? Without knowing how, and where, and what type to use, any part of it could go wrong in so, so many ways.

Bill's asking so casually. Like it'd be easy. Maybe he thinks it is.

Sure, his 'body' might be fine. But it really deserves the quotation marks. Assuming that it's a type of magical construct, trying to 'fill in' his missing parts might work. Demons could, in theory, be able to synthesize a... something or other, out of Dipper's efforts.

But even if it is a construct - Dipper doesn't have the blueprints.

Bill's 'body' is very, very real, not some gossamer-thin creation. Both solid, and living enough to bleed. Without a plan to follow, while he poured regeneration into an organic form? One this complicated? He'd totally screw it up. The sheer amount of magic it takes to sustain it alone is absolutely insane.

"Fine. Then back the fuck off, if you're squeamish." Bill interrupts his train of thought, voice sharp. His teeth bare as he sneers, and Dipper makes another note on the 'not human' chart. "Or hey! Find a neat stick or something." He pats at the gap on his side like it's more of an annoyance than a grievous, leaking wound. "Gotta get something to prop me up so I'm not tilting forty degrees just trying to get around."

"Cut that out." Dipper uses his stern, professional tone, to zero effect. "You need to keep that clean." Probably. Does Bill even have an immune system, or-?

His train of thought gets interrupted as Bill pats around, finding a chunk of a blasted-apart log- then compares it to his wound, with a contemplative look. Like he's judging whether it's sturdy enough to replace the flesh and bone missing from his friggin' torso. Like he only needs to plug it up as a structural issue.

"Oh my god," Dipper says, and swats the stupid splintery thing out of this idiot demon's hand. "Do you want an infection?"

Bill opens his mouth. Presumably, he was about to make some quote-unquote 'witty' response, but Dipper's already covered his mouth. Running his over hand over his face.

"If I try to patch you up," Dipper starts, slowly. Already knowing he's doing something dumb, just so someone else won't do something dumber. "Will you please not shove anything into it. After."

"It's a deal, sapling." Bill gives him a smug grin, and an irritating thumbs up. "Go for it! And tell you what." The wink is totally unnecessary. "I'll even back you up on the magic front."

"Sure," Dipper says, very dry. Because transferring magic being-to-being is that easy. Everyone just. Hands it over, on a whim. Bill has lost a lot of blood, though. Maybe it's made him loopy. "Go for it."

That, at least, shuts Bill up. He hums a little tune, lying back and waiting for....

Dipper to do the dumb thing.

With a sigh, He sets his hands on Bill. His skin is bare, so there's a the brief relief that Dipper won't have to channel through it; a total lack of modesty does have minor benefits.

Another breath. Dipper shuts his eyes. focusing on his magic. Drawing it down, through his own source of life, through is arms, to his fingers, pressed into Bill's soft skin like he's testing the ripeness of a peach.

Welp. Here goes nothing.

Literally nothing, mind. Demons are powerful, and weird. Mortal magic doesn't mingle well, or easily, with the kind that demons throw around, and the form Bill's wearing looks hand-crafted. Whatever made it is going to be way beyond Dipper's ability to fix. Possibly beyond his ability to comprehend.

If he's lucky, though, he might be able to slow the bleeding. For some reason that hasn't really stopped, but it'll make transporting him less messy if he can manage to stem it. but the best case scenario is that he doesn't murder Bill outright in the attempt.

The first trickles of magic bleed into Bill's flesh, spreading through that layer of fondant, down into the jelly-donut center. His magic feels bone and blood. He feels the little tangling twine of veins, and the strings of muscle.

Following his training, Dipper pushes magic in. Carefully. Slowly.

A moment later, his eyes shoot open.

He stares at the wound. Then he stares Bill.

All he gets in return a is a big grin, and a nonchalant wave.

Dipper blinks back down a the gap in this demon, and how it slowly, slowly closes up without even being guided.

Fixing up a person would be a multi-step, long, lingering process. Like repairing the circuitry on a delicate electronic, or gently guiding the weave of a tapestry.

With Bill, Dipper's just. Pouring wax into a mold. As long as he keeps putting magic into it, it reforms back into shape. No blueprints needed.

Holy shit, this is easy.

What the fuck.

Whatever form Bill's wearing is truly bizarre. This is - he doesn't know - technically organic, but absolutely a constructed thing. How the hell was this made? Who did it? And what the hell, why is it growing back so fast?

Dipper nearly pulls back out of sheer surprise, intending to stop - before quickly realizing he can't.

He slams his palms back on Bill's torso, shivering as the small plumes of flame fade. Bill doesn't seem to mind; which both is and isn't a surprise. No blisters form, either, which proves Dipper's startled assumption about what the fuck just happened.

Swearing again, Dipper shuts his eyes, shoving harder against Bill's skin. No backing out now. He has to keep focus, and see this through.

Bill wasn't kidding about how easy this would be.

He also wasn't kidding about backing Dipper up with his magic.

Even though this is easy, Dipper wouldn't have enough on his own, not to heal a huge chunk like this. Too much missing material, even in a magical construct. Too complicated, and strange.

But Bill's here. A guy who's very invested in getting up and around again, and - shit, demons can hand over power to humans, it's kinda their thing. God, why didn't Dipper think of that before.

Though he started with a trickle, just to see what would happen, Dipper amped it up as things seemed to be working. A little increase to the stream of magic, admiring the effects.

Somewhere along that line, it turned into a torrent.

It figures. Bill's power must be behind this, and he's a demon, and an asshole. While Dipper wasn't paying attention, Bill opened up some kind demonic valve, without Dipper ever noticing.

There's a whole river of demonic magic coursing through Dipper's veins now. Arguably still controlled by him, but fed by a pushy demonic asshole. The magic doesn't feel bad at all, but it's big. Vast, and seemingly endless.

Demonic power courses through Dipper, hot and thick in his arms, lighter in his chest, swirling around his own heart, both his and not-his -

And all of it has to go somewhere.

Underneath his hands, the flesh.... flows.

Dipper watches the arch of the ribs, gently connecting back together, and the sheets of muscle blossom back. Skin spreads over what was empty air. Something is made from nothing, as full and complete as that power inside him.

Bill pulls Dipper's hand away from his chest, and takes a long, deep breath. His eye shuts.

And Dipper blinks as if coming out of a daze, jerking himself upright. He doesn't know when he started leaning over Bill like that, but now it feels super weird.

As Bill mutters something under his breath, wiping a hand down his face. Dipper backs up, then sits down heavily on the ground.

He didn't know he could - but he did that. Or Bill did that, through him. It's. A lot. To think about, and to have handled.

Either way, the result's slightly dizzying. As is the sheer amount of leftover magic.

For a moment, Dipper stares at his hands. He flexes his fingers, then rubs at them.

There's still a heady, warm sense of having way, way more to work with than usual, which is. Weird. But what's left no longer feels like it's being rudely shoved forward, and that makes it more manageable.

So. Kind of a controllable, reasonable level of absolutely absurd power. Without Bill powering him ,it should fade over time, and Dipper won't let himself miss it.

"Oof," Bill says, sitting up and stretching. "What a huge pain in the side that was!" He rises to his feet, brushing off dirt and debris. "Do you have any idea how many muscles a human shape needs to ambulate right? And there aren't any backups? Shitty engineering, if you ask me."

Dipper only vaguely pays attention to the rambling. Bill's up and about, and the patch of ground where he was lying is bare. Stained, but empty, and it's all -

Bill clears his throat, and reaches down. Dipper blinks at the intrusion of a sudden hand, but takes it and lets Bill haul him upright.

"That worked." Dipper says. He saw it with his own eyes and yet. "I can't believe that worked. How..?"

Bill says nothing, only smiles. Enigmatic, and dickish of him.

Dipper frowns as he runs a hand over the place where there was nothing only five minutes before. The temperature matches all the rest of the skin, and the stomach jumps a little under his touch. It's complete and solid, hot to the touch. Bill looks perfectly healthy, he guesses. But. "Are you doing okay?" Dipper asks, reaching up to take a pulse again at the neck. Much faster this time; maybe a sign that he's improved. "You look alright, but I don't know your vital signs." There's only one pupil, and it looks slightly dilated. Nothing to compare it to, sadly - Dipper frowns. "How are you feeling?" "Good question, sapling!" Bill takes Dipper by the wrist, lowering it to his shoulder. And winks, leaning in with what could only be called a leer. "How do I feel?"

"Uh." Dipper darts a glance down at his hands - resting on Bill's bare chest, the other on his shoulder.

This isn't - He was checking - Okay, fine, the assessment is over. Time to stop touching him.

Dipper takes a step back, clearing his throat. Bill follows, leer annoying wider.

Not that that's. Unnerving or anything. Dipper's just sweating because of the magic he used. That was pretty intense.

"Well, you're fine." He stammers, then grimaces at Bill's raised eyebrow. "I mean, you're okay-fine, not-" He manages to get one hand off the chest, but Bill's not letting go of the other. He lets out a nervous laugh. "So. You're all better, and I should, uh. Get going now."

Bill hums a little in thought. Clearly an affectation. Dipper doesn't have to be a mind-reader to know Bill's already made up his.

Pulling away doesn't work; Bill's grip is surprisingly strong. One might even say, inhumanly. So. Dipper offers a smile, weak as it is. "Yeah, I should really leave now."

"Nah, I don't think so." Bill shrugs, then grins again. "I didn't fight a friggin' dragon just for the prize to run off at the end."

Yep, Dipper figured.

Out of the dragon's den, and into the demon's.

He should have left Bill there to die and rot and be a dick somewhere in a demon realm. He should have known that stupid turn of luck was way too good to be true.

"Now you and I are gonna-" Bill's stomach jumps again, and he grimaces. Tapping a fist against his chest, he sucks in a breath through his teeth. "Ugh, life magic." He ducks his head, breathing slowly. "One sec, kid."

Dipper seizes the opportunity, wrenching his arm away and clutching it to his chest. He backpedals until he stumbles. In front of him, Bill growls - then rests his hands on his knees, and makes a small choking noise.

Oh thank fuck, Bill's not perfectly fine. Healed, sure - But something's gone wrong because he almost looks.... sick?

Dipper turns towards the woods - then pauses. He fixed him, sure, but - "Uh. Are you-?"

"Fine! Fine. 's just a side effect." A hiccup, and a dismissive wave. Bill stops, holding back a dry heave, then groans ."Won't last long, so don't try anything funny." He glares at Dipper, pointing at him like a command. "The second this is over, I'm-"

Before he can finish the sentence, Dipper's halfway across the clearing and rounding the dragon corpse. It blocks Bill's line of sight, and from there, it's a straight running contest. The nausea should by him some time to truly get the hell out of dodge.

Good thing it's still daylight out; he might be able to find his way back to civilization, or, like. Follow a river or something. With the extra power in him, he might be able to throw up a few illusions too. That should help keep the literal goddamn demon off his back.

What a goddamn mess today has been.

Dragons, demons. Magic and monsters and crazy assholes who have who-the-fuck knows what intentions after someone just helped their jerk ass.

This was supposed to be relaxing. A break before Dipper finally went into residency -

And much like other parts of his life, it's turned into a complete and absolute shitshow.

The pine trees whip past as Dipper keeps up a breakneck pace. God, he should slow down lest he sprain an ankle or something -

But behind him he hears Bill cursing, and there's a growing blue glow that's as terrifying as it is ominous. He picks up speed out of sheer terror, and makes a promise to himself.

Next time Dipper gets vacation, he's going absolutely anywhere that isn't Gravity freakin' Falls.

[pasta-in-the-pudding]

Can you do a Insecure!Jeff the killer x reader??

-⭐

ℕ𝕠 𝕟𝕖𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕠 𝕡𝕦𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕖𝕩𝕔𝕝𝕒𝕞𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 𝕡𝕠𝕚𝕟𝕥, 𝕁𝕖𝕗𝕗 𝕓𝕖𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟𝕤𝕖𝕔𝕦𝕣𝕖 𝕚𝕤 𝕡𝕣𝕖𝕥𝕥𝕪 𝕞𝕦𝕔𝕙 𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟 <///𝟛

ℂ𝕣𝕖𝕕𝕚𝕥𝕤 𝕥𝕠 𝕕𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕕𝕖𝕣 𝕘𝕠 𝕥𝕠 @𝕒𝕟𝕚𝕞𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕕𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕘𝕣𝕒𝕡𝕙𝕚𝕔𝕤-𝕟-𝕞𝕠𝕣𝕖!! 𝔾𝕠 𝕗𝕠𝕝𝕝𝕠𝕨 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕞 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕤𝕦𝕡𝕡𝕠𝕣𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕚𝕣 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕜!

𝕋𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕜 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕤𝕠 𝕞𝕦𝕔𝕙 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕣𝕖𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘!!

Insecure Jeff The Killer

Jeff is insecure about a lot tbh

His looks, his mental problems, his physical health problems, his personality

Basically everything

But it's not like it's super bad all the time

Most of the time, he's actually really confident in himself

"omg im so beautiful everyone loves me sm i'm so perfect"

Stages of how he handles insecurity depends on a lot of things

It depends on who he's around, what triggered the feeling, and his environment

At his best, he will just become a little more quiet than usual and shy away from people

At his worst, he can be completely covered head to toe, and if anyone looks at him for too long he could lash out into a fight (verbal or physical)

Once he gets to that point though, there's not really much you can do to help, you just have to let him ride it out and come out of his shell on his own time

You can however, help prevent his insecurities from getting to that point

His most common triggers are: people saying anything negative about his looks, mirrors if he's having a bad day, and sometimes even if you mention someone else that is visually appealing to you

It'll start out slow, and barely noticeable

He'll talk less and less, and try to back out of any conversations

When it starts to amp up, he will put on a face mask to cover his scars

If you see him do this, let him know how beautiful you think he is, and give him lots of extra kisses

After this, he will put on some sunglasses to cover his burn scars around his eyes

Once he's done this, he will likely put his hood up too

At this point, it's starting to get really bad

The best way to help him is to take him somewhere spacious, yet private

And if you do that, he will slowly begin to remove his coverings

It goes twice as fast if you just sit and hold him, allow him to vent his frustrations to you

However, if you don't manage to catch any of the signs that he is beginning to spiral, then god help you

Jeff already has explosive anger issues, but his insecurity on top of that makes his mental state like a five year old with a loaded gun

You will think everything is fine, when all of a sudden you hear a loud "BANG" and the sound of Jeff yelling at someone

When you and other residents rush over to see what's happening, he will be in a full on fight with the poor soul that looked at him for too long

He won't stop on his own until said person is dead, because in his brain, they have something against him specifically and the threat needs to be eliminated

It will take Tim, E.J and Brian to finally pull him off of the person and get him away

E.J goes to take care of the person that was beat up and the other two carry him to a solitary room where he will be locked in until he calms down

Not even you are allowed to go in when his mental state is this fragile, because while he does love you more than anything, he's in a blacked out sort of state and won't recognize that you're just trying to help

Once you are allowed to see him though, he will either cling onto you for dear life, rambling about how stupid he is and how he should've just backed off

Or alternatively, he will completely self isolate from everyone, not allowing anyone to get too close

And if anyone does get close, he punches the nearest wall as a "warning" and storms off

Moral of the story, make sure to stroke his ego every now and then so we don't end up with dead residents