#i feel sentiment and affection and lean into those in relationships and i think that's fine

[broodsys]

that one rb about venom actually just started me on a deep dive of thinking about being aroace

[seoulmatez]

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ 𝐿𝒪𝒱𝐼𝒩𝒢 𝒴𝒪𝒰, 𝐿𝒪𝒱𝐼𝒩𝒢 𝑀𝐸

info ⭑ gojo x reader. 1.7 wc. sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ college au ﾉ navigating relationships

“did you miss me while you were at work?”

you jokingly roll your eyes, having expected the question. gojo asks you the same thing over the phone each time you’re making the walk home. he expects a certain answer, one you usually give to him but you’re feeling a little playful tonight. even though he can’t see it, you smile with your next words. “mm, i was a little too busy to think about you.”

there’s a slight pause on the line before gojo replies. “not even a little bit?”

you can hear the pout in his voice and picture the expression in your head—his fluffy white eyebrows pulled together in a frown, bottom lip petulantly poked out. the mental image makes your smile grow wider.

“i’m kidding,” you assure him, adjusting the phone in your hand. he may ask the same question after all of your shifts, but your actual answer never changes. “of course i did.”

his crackly laugh sounds through the speaker and in the chill of the night, it sparks a warmth within you. it’s a sound you’re sure you’ll never get tired of hearing.

“good. i missed you, too.”

you bite your cheek to keep the smile from overtaking your face. it’s been a few months since the two of you started dating but you’re still not used to the unabashed affection gojo continuously shows you. 

you can’t seem to find the right words to respond to his sentiment but the end of your commute gives you the opportunity to change the subject.

“hey, i’m almost home,” you tell gojo as you approach the stairs leading up to your apartment. “i’ll text you when i get inside.”

“sure,” he hums, “talk to you later.”

“bye,” you draw out the vowel before pulling the phone away from your ear and ending the call. you stuff the device in your bag and your hands in your pockets as you make your way up the stairs that’ll take you to your apartment. the cold air nips at the exposed skin of your face, making you pick up the pace in hopes of quickly getting somewhere warmer. as you reach the final step, something catches your attention.

there’s a figure on the wooden platform a few feet from your door. 

it should startle you, but you’re beginning to grow used to the sight. just like his calls, gojo has made a habit of showing up outside your place on nights when you work late. you can’t lie—there’s a certain level of comfort you’re met with each time you’re greeted by the back of his head.

you clear your throat as you walk up to him. “my neighbors are going to start thinking you’re a stalker if you keep showing up like this.”

your voice alerts gojo of your arrival and his head swivels so that he can meet your gaze. there’s a smile tugging at your lips that makes his own curl up at the corners. “can you blame me for wanting to make sure you get home safe?”

bright blue eyes follow you as you come to stand in front of the man. despite the iciness of the air, his coat is left unbuttoned. you’re able to see that he’s wearing a suit underneath his outerwear—he must have come straight here after finishing his internship for the day.

“i just got off the phone with you,” you tell him through a short laugh, pulling your hands out of your pockets to pull his coat closed, though it doesn’t stay. you wonder how long he’s been waiting but you know he won’t tell if you ask.

he leans forward into your touch with his next words. “maybe i want to see you walk through the door with my own eyes.”

“gojo—” before you can get the rest of your sentence out, the man holds a hand out to stop you.

“i told you, it’s satoru.” he’s been persistent about reminding you to call him by his first name ever since the two of you started dating. now is no different and he even goes as far as placing his hands on your waist, sounding out each syllable for you. “sa-to-ru. got it?”

the way he stares up at you with those sparkling eyes and that charming grin makes your heart jump in your chest. expectation lingers behind his gaze and you can sense his anticipation by the way his lithe fingers tap at your waist.

“fine… satoru.” the name still feels foreign on your tongue but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like the taste of it. you clear your throat before sliding your hands up onto his shoulders. “you don’t have to keep doing this. it’s starting to get cold outside and you’ll get sick sitting out here.”

he shrugs. “i don’t mind.”

you sigh, readying to drill into him how important his health is when you notice, feel, that his shoulders are trembling with shivers. under a more attentive eye, the redness of his ears and cheeks also make themselves known. despite his carelessness, you can’t find it in yourself to scold him when his actions were so well-intended.

with the click of your tongue, you grab gojo’s tie and give it a gentle tug. “come inside and warm up.”

you weren’t sure it was possible, but gojo’s smile spreads even wider upon hearing your invitation. as if saying “don’t mind if i do,” the man stands to his full height. he towers above you now, but his presence is far from imposing. “after you.”

you lead the way, digging around your bag for your keys. they jingle as you pull them out and the click of your door unlocking sounds throughout the night air. your apartment is dark and as you reach to flip on the light switch, you wonder if you cleaned up this morning. gojo has been here before but you worry about embarrassing yourself with a mess.

though, you can’t stand around in the darkness forever. hoping that the unit is presentable, you turn on the main light. brightness floods the area and, to your credit, nothing more than a misplaced jacket dirties the room. you give yourself a mental pat on the back while you hang up your keys. when you turn to look at gojo, he’s in the process of shedding his coat. you mirror his actions but remind him, “you can’t stay long. i have an early shift tomorrow.”

he doesn’t stop taking his coat off but his smile is traded in for a frown. you’ve all but kicked him out before he’s even gotten settled, and because of work, at that. he’s beginning to think your coworkers see you more often than he does. he drapes his coat on the back of one of the chairs in your kitchen. “you know, if you moved in with me, you could quit your job.”

you almost laugh before you realize he isn’t joking. gojo has always been direct—since before you were dating and when the two of you got together—so his suggestion shouldn’t be surprising. still, every offer he makes to pamper and spoil you tends to catch you off guard. it’s not the proposals themselves, no, but the way he brings them up so casually as if they should be a given—expected.

everything about dating gojo is different from past relationships you’ve had. he expresses his love in ways unfamiliar to you, ways that are sometimes difficult for you to accept—not because you don’t want to but because you aren’t sure how. it doesn’t seem to bother gojo but you wonder when the time will come when you’re comfortable enough to consider taking him up on his offer.

“tempting, but no. ask me again in a couple of months,” you tell him over your shoulder from your place at the kitchen counter. you know he will. “want some tea?”

outwardly unaffected by your rejection, gojo hums in confirmation as he takes a seat at your table. it doesn’t take you long to prepare the warm beverage and place a cup of it in front of the man. you plop down across from him with a mug of your own.

“how was your day?” you ask him before taking a cautious sip of your tea.

“same old, same old,” he replies, propping his elbows on the table and resting his chin in his cupped palms. it squishes his cheeks and gives him a youthful appearance.

under the fluorescent lights of your kitchen, it’s impossible not to pick up on the dark crescents below his eyes. now that the cold isn’t keeping him alert, you can tell just how exhausted he is.

“really? you look kind of tired.”

he brushes off your concern. “i’m fine.”

the phrase is one that gojo utters often but you’re having a hard time believing him tonight. it wouldn’t be safe for him to drive home in his current condition. even though you had been pretty adamant about him taking his leave earlier, you reconsider.

“why don’t you stay here tonight?” you suggest, holding the mug in your hands up to your mouth.

that much seems to capture gojo’s attention as his eyes widen in curiosity. you hide the smile threatening your lips behind your mug.

“are you sure?”

it’s at this moment that you realize—maybe the way you love is unfamiliar to gojo, too. maybe your invitations come as a surprise in the same way his do to you. and maybe, just like you, he’s wary of accepting your affections, nervous to get too comfortable.

the thought makes you want him to stay even more.

so, without hesitation, you nod. “you look like you’re two seconds away from collapsing. just sleep here.”

“well, if you insist, how could i say no?” gojo grins. it’s a sleepy one that doesn’t reach his eyes but it’s obvious that he’s grateful—for the gesture, of course, but even more so that he’s finally able to spend more time with you, even if that time will be spent sleeping.

you giggle at his response, gathering the cups and putting them in the sink before jerking your head in the direction of your bathroom. “come on, sleepy-head. let’s get ready for bed.”

hey there! thank you for giving this a read! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment! much love from me to you ❤︎

[puranami]

✿ It's The Little Things - 2 ✿

A/N: Wow, the first post went far better than I ever expected, especially considering I have no idea what I'm doing ᕕ(✿ᐛ )ᕗ It was a lot of fun though, so I'm back for round 2!

Summary: More little relationship things with other characters that are in both the anime/manga, and the live action~

Characters: Buggy, Shanks, Mihawk

Content: SFW, G/N reader, fluff with added fluff on top ✿

(Part 1 - Luffy, Zoro, Nami, Usopp, Sanji) (Part 3 - Franky, Robin, Law, Kid, Killer) (Part 4 - Crocodile, Rosinante/ Corazon, Doflamingo)

Buggy

✿ Naturally there is never a dull moment with a man as flashy and bombastic as Buggy, but that doesn't mean there are no calm moments. The start of your day is relatively mellow compared to the rest of it. Bugs will cling to you for as long as he can get away with before you both have to get up. During your morning routine you are practically on top of each other, but it is so natural and well coordinated, that you never collide or get in each others way. All the while, he'll be cracking jokes, and putting his hands on your "assets," followed by a cheeky wink, and infectious giggles. He loves when you match his shenanigans, and will overact his reactions, as if he wasn't just doing the exact same thing to you; "Well, I never-" - "You literally just grabbed my-" - "Never," to which you'll laugh and gently slap his arm while he sticks his tongue out at you.

✿ He's a materialistic guy, so he gives you lots of gifts, from the extravagant to the sentimental. It's the easiest way for him to show you how much you mean to him. Giving him gifts in return makes him melt; he isn't just buying your love, you are speaking his love language! As a pirate it's always been him taking what he wants, so to be freely given those things speaks volumes. Even more valuable than the things he wants are the things you have made for him. To know you have put time, energy, and love into making something special and unique means so much to him! He will cry because he is so moved, just hold him and stroke his hair while he has his moment.

✿ To be with Buggy means you have willingly lowered every single one of your barriers; you are an open book, completely honest about what you think and how you feel. He is insecure, so he needs to see that you trust him implicitly in order to return that trust. As a part of this openness, your personal bubble no longer exists, you have a couple bubble now. That doesn't mean you can't have space though! On the contrary, the mutual trust you've cultivated means you can say, "Hey, I just need some time to myself," and he knows that you aren't angry, or upset with him, because you would have told him as much. When you come back he welcomes you with a cheesy pickup line or wise crack as he pulls you right back into that shared bubble. It took a lot of faith at the start, which wasn't easy for him, and it takes consistent hard work to maintain this level of trust and honesty, and it is so worth it.

Shanks

✿ This man cannot keep his hand to himself! When you're walking together he'll have his hand on the small of your back, or his arm around your shoulder. More often than not he is holding your hand, fingers laced together, with him brushing your thumb with the rough, calloused skin of his own. In his mind, the closer you are to him, the safer you are. He's one of the strongest men in all the seas, so being in the same space means no one can touch you, just as they can't touch him, but you'd never know it. To you, he's just like a big puppy, needing to be in your presence, smothering you in affection. He likes to lean his head on top of yours, similar to how a dog will lean their head on your lap, all while wrapping his arm around your waist so you can't wander off. He can be a little possessive, honestly, but he means well.

✿ He will listen to you talk his ear off for hours on end about literally anything. From philosophical musings, to colour theory, to the many uses of vinegar - it doesn't matter the subject, he just loves to hear your voice, and to see how passionate you are. Shanks won't just smile and nod, giving the odd confirming "uh huh," while not really listening either; he gets really invested! Your passion is contagious, and you make even the most mundane things interesting. It's also good to know what interests you, as it makes gift ideas easier. Whenever he sees something related to a topic you've talked to him about he will get it for you. The main thing with all of this is the quality time he gets to spend with you; outside of drinking and merriment, it's one of his favourite ways to relax.

✿ Shanks loves playing little pranks on you. He never goes too far though, as it's important that you are laughing alongside him and the crew. It makes him so happy when you start pulling your own pranks on him. It is very hard to surprise him, but easy to confuse him. You know those pranks where people hide numerous things everywhere? Lets just say he is still finding little gnomes around the Red Force. The rest of the crew is in on it, pretending not to see them, and will deny any knowledge of them, and the longer it goes on, the funnier he finds it when he spots another - you hid them in the such obscure places! He's kept every single one of them, and they have a designated chest, but he'll keep his favourites on his desk.

Mihawk

✿ Everything about Mihawk is subtle, and purposeful, and that extends to relationships. To outside observers he appears cold and distant, like he is barely tolerating your presence at his side, but you are so familiar with his subtleties that you can see just how much he adores you. Each ghost of a touch and fraction of a smile are a declaration of love that only you can understand. He is much more open with his affections when you are alone, where you are safest - not to say you are unsafe out with him, nothing could be further from the truth, he just won't do anything that puts a potential target on your back, exposing you as his achilles heel.

✿ He is a classic romantic! Mihawk is courting you, not dating you. At the start of the courtship he will wine and dine you, lead you with an arm behind you that never makes contact, and the only time he will touch you is to leave a faint kiss on your hand after escorting you home. There will also be large periods of time between meetings where he will send many unsigned love letters until he can return to you. You know exactly who they are from, Mihawk just wants to avoid you being linked to him, especially when he isn't there to protect you.

✿ Once you are fully committed to one another, he moves you to his home where you are safe, and when he is there, he is so domestic that you often forget you are with a (former) warlord. You will tend to the garden together, harvest what you need, and cook together, though he'd prefer to do all the cooking for you. In all honesty, as long as you are there to keep him company, he'd be happy to do everything for you, but he won't fight it if you insist on doing things for him, or ideally together instead; "We'll get things done quicker together, and then we can relax with a bottle of wine and a good book." - "Very well." There is nothing he loves more than sitting with you on the settee with a comfy blanket after a long day of training and daily chores.

[reverseexorcist]

♡ 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ♡

You couldn't not give me Carmilla fucking Carmine and expect me not to go feral over her-

➲ 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚 Carmine + !F!Reader

➲ Romantic ☒, Platonic ☐

➲ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 Count; 1,479 Words

➲ Warnings/notes; Female reader, these are kind've all over the place, Carmilla might be a tad OOC since this is my first time writing her

➲ There are so many different ways this relationship could possibly start. The mind boggles trying to think of all of them. Just think of all the potential shenanigans that could occur and have fun with that

➲ But lemme just say before anything - This woman is fiercely protective over you. Not in the cutesy, clingy kind've obsessive way, but the silently scary scary-dog privilege kind've partner. The epitome of 'excuse me sir, they asked for no pickles', and, because I love this trope, you are the only person (besides her daughters) that she will ever fully be soft for.

➲ Insert 🥺 right here

➲ Just, get you a woman who looks at you the way Carmilla looks at her wife. That's all I can say

➲ The soft moments in the morning when you can just lay in bed and watch her get ready. Pulling her hair up into her signature, gravity defying buns(?) and delicately slip on and twine her angelic steel shoes. The minutes of her fingers expertly working away in a comfortable silence as you just lay under the comfort of your warm blankets? Those are the moments right there 👌

➲ Probably not one for physical affection, at least not in public. Definitely not in public. Her reputation alone would probably put you in danger, which is, y'know, not good, so no hand-holding in public

➲ (Honestly, one part of her probably prefers not to be seen with you in public for that exact reason. The other part wants to keep you in her line of sight at all times because at least then she can personally keep you safe)

➲ All of that being said, can't deny she'd probably give top tier hugs. Proper bear hugs because this woman is tall and strong and would undeniably make you feel safe whenever you're in her arms. Depending on how tall or short you are, she could also probably pick you up if you really wanted 👉👈

➲ (She could 100% pick you up, and probably with one hand as well)

➲ Gives the most tender of little kisses. Small pecks on the cheeks and forehead whenever she's tired from work, her larger fingers gently grazing the sides of your head as her fluffy hair tickles your face

➲ And the adorable little pet names she whispers to you! Maybe you're just passing by each other in an almost empty street or just relaxing at home together, but she'll always try and take the chance to whisper something like 'mi Vida', 'mi Corazón' or 'mi Reina' just loud enough for the two of you to hear

➲ Let's be real, this woman is really goddamn tall, so you're probably shorter than her and she absolutely loves it and would absolutely tell this to your face just to fluster you. What she loves even more is the way you'd have to reach up on your tippy toes with her leaning down to meet you halfway just to have you playfully kiss her on the tip of her nose or her chin

➲ Maybe, very rarely, if she's feeling extra sentimental, she'd love it if you sat on her lap while she works in her home office, just so she can have your comfort and warmth nearby. More often than not this scenario would end up with you falling asleep in her lap and her carrying you back to bed with the smallest of smiles on her face

➲ If she could really help it, she'd prefer to keep you as far away from her work as possible. As much as she would love to have you in the office, maybe helping her with paperwork or something similar so she could have you at within her reach at all times of the day, arms dealing is a dangerous job. At least her daughter's have each other's backs' when they're out doing business, but you'd probably have to make it on your own or with one of her other employees and that's a big no no in her eyes

➲ Also, speaking of her daughters, your relationship with them would vary wildly depending on when you met them

➲ If you started dating Carmilla when Clara and Odette were rather young, they'd probably cling on to you like a second mother figure. In some cases, they might've even preferred you over Carmilla for the sole fact that their toddler puppy eyes work on you better than their biological mother

➲ Your dynamic would probably just be the three of you racing to see who could give Carmilla a hug first after she gets home from work

➲ (Though, this only works if Carmilla is hell-born seeing as sinner's can't have children)

➲ If you started dating Carmilla when they were older though, there might be a bit of a tense air when you first meet. Carmilla's protectiveness isn't just one way - Her daughters absolutely adore her, and although they definitely couldn't protect her physically, they'd do their damn best to protect her emotionally

➲ They'd warm up to you after some time though, seeing you do truly love their mother with your whole heart. You'd never be a parent to them, barely even a step-parent, but they'd respect you and care for you like family nonetheless because you make their mother happy

➲ Either way, her heart melts seeing the three of you getting alone, and she 100% has a family picture she keeps on her desk for her eyes only

➲ Sometimes she just waits until you fall asleep so she can cradle your head in her heads oh so carefully. She just sort've stares at you, her eyes glowing in the dark with her wild mane of hair spilling out behind her, and she just traces all the intricate details of your face with her eyes

➲ And then she just sort've hugs you closer to her, tugging the blankets a little tighter around the two of you as she presses the littlest of kisses to your forehead before relaxing into the pillows

➲ But just imagine Carmilla with a wife who died so much later after her. Just this tall, scary and proper woman that strikes fear into the hearts of millions with her little gremlin wife who keep talking about shit like reddit that the other sinners just don't understand (not even Carmilla herself, but she finds your antics somewhat entertaining, at least when she doesn't have to act as your self preservation instincts and keep you safe)

➲ Extermination is your least favourite day for multiple reasons

➲ The first being, well, the exorcists descending form heaven to brutally murder sinners left and right, but also because Carmilla changes around this time

➲ It's understandable, especially with what happened in one of the previous exterminations when she and her daughters got caught, but it still scares you to see you usually cool, calm and loving wife turn into a robot who's only goal is to get you and her daughters to a safehouse to wait out the terror outside

➲ Doesn't mean you're not grateful, though. You can look past all of that because you know she's just doing it to keep you safe, and in the end you'd rather be safe and living with your family rather than dead on the end of an exorcist's spear

➲ You probably also have a good relationship with the other overlords, despite never having gone to a meeting

➲ (It's because of this you've never met Velvette or the other Vee's, and if Carmilla has a say, you never will)

➲ Rosie, being the social butterfly she is, loves to talk gossip with you every chance she gets. Zestial likes to join in on your little sessions, not saying anything but bringing tea for everyone to drink and enjoy. Clara also likes to join in sometimes, but her sister would much rather sit with her mother and just watch the chaos unfold in front of them

➲ Almost certainly has caught you trying on her shoes when she's not looking. A part of her is annoyed because she'd rather not have you involved in anything to do with her work, but the innocent look you give her makes her rethink her annoyance in the moment

➲ She'd later found out Clara helped you because you also wanted to try and walk around on pointe like the rest of the family. No idea why you skipped straight to trying the angelic weapon shoes, but Carmilla does offer to help you later

➲ Overall, great wife and I'd give her a 9/10. One point deducted probably because she'd be a tad too overprotective, but everything else about her is great; From her bear hugs to those little moments the two of you share

Rules + Info,

Masterlist,

[endlessthxxghts]

Tell Me More

no outbreak!neighbor!Joel Miller x afab!reader || W/C: ≈4.4k

Summary: Your house is finally empty for the first time in a long time, so you decide to get back in the groove of your witchy practices. Joel stumbles in during your meditation session, and he's intrigued to know more.

Warnings: Religious (Christianity/Catholicism) undertones/religious trauma - brief mention, but does affect reader. Talk of crystals, talk of Tarot cards. Mental health talk, my babies: depression mentions, allusions to wanting to give up in life. EXPLICIT/MATURE CONTENT, 18+ MDNI. Dom/sub dynamics - talks of being collared...getting collared (stfu I’m sobbing)🥲!! These knuckleheads are legit IN LOVE. Age gap. Established relationship. P in V sex. Use of daddy. Allusions to other sexual activity. Please let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: I'm gonna preface this with the fact that this is entirely something I wrote because I was needing comfort. I do witchcraft. I love crystals, I do tarot readings, and all that jazz. Within the last year, I haven’t done much because I’ve been in a living situation in which I have to hide who I truly am. A few nights ago, I got to spend a few hours with someone who partakes in these practices, and I’ve never felt more alive in those two hours than I have in the last year. And I’ve been craving to feel that way again, but again, my living situation prevents me to do so. So, here I am, healing a part of myself through my writing. Even if you guys are unfamiliar in the whole aspect of witchcraft, I hope you guys can enjoy this from the aspect of finding a person who finally accepts you for all that you are. If this isn’t your cup of tea, no hate! Please just scroll away. All my love. Xoxo💚

ONESHOT COLLECTION || MAIN MASTERLIST

Part of What You Need universe! CAN BE READ AS STAND-ALONE!

You told Joel a few hours ago that when he got off work to just let himself inside because you weren’t sure if you’d be having a nap or not. He knew the garage code and knew where the spare key was, anyway. 

So when he was greeted to an empty home at the end of his work day, he didn’t think anything of it. That is, until he entered your room and saw you, legs criss-crossed in the center of your bed, eyes closed, with rocks and playing cards scattered all around your bed, enveloping you in a makeshift circle. 

“Uh, baby?” immediately leaves his mouth as he stares, absolutely confused at the situation before him. 

Your eyes shoot open, not expecting to be in the presence of another human being right now, and a little squeak escapes you. “Oh! Baby! Almost gave me a heart attack,” you say with a light giggle. 

“What are you-” he gestures towards your bed as he walks closer to you, leaning over your bed to give you a chaste kiss, “-up to, darlin’?”

You’re absolutely radiating sunshine right now, and even though his confusion is still getting the best of him, he can’t help but feel giddy in your presence. “Oh, well,” you smile up at him, a hint of shyness in your voice, “I thought I’d take advantage of my family being out on their little vacation, so I wanted to take some time to meditate.” 

“Oh, okay,” he offers you a smile back, one like he understands exactly what you’re talking about even though the sentiment doesn’t reach his eyes. Usually you’d be shying away and scrambling to put your stuff away. But this is Joel you’re talking about here, and he just looks utterly confused. 

You raise your eyebrows slightly, prompting him to ask his question you know he’s dying to ask.

“And this meditatin’,” he says a little hesitantly, “you do it with, um.. with rocks?” 

Your hand flies to your mouth, a slapping sound echoing in the room, in an attempt to stifle your disbelief at his words. “Rocks?” you say perplexed. 

His cheeks heat up at your passionate reaction. “I-”

You scooch your bum over, gather everything on your bed and make some room over for Joel. You pat the space next to you, signaling for him to come over. He sits next to you, tucking one leg under him as the other hangs off the bed. 

You take his hand and hold it palm up, sliding one of the clusters in his palm. “These, my honey, are crystals,” you pause to think for a second. “Well, okay, yes, they’re rocks, BUT-”

His cheekbones raise in amusement. You’re caressing the crystal in his palm, eyes fixated on it as you speak. You think he’s looking at the crystal, but really he’s watching and loving just how passionate you are about this.

You continue on for a good fifteen minutes or so about what crystals are, what meanings they have, and you also mention what powerful properties they carry—whatever that means, he thinks to himself. In all his years of life, he has never heard of anything like this, nor would he ever get into something like this. 

“So, this ro-” you physically cringe at the word. He corrects himself. “This crystal,” he says, “it makes you sleepy?” 

He’s trying. And it makes you want to swallow him whole and never let him go. You think for a second, pondering the implications behind the crystals properties of the Amethyst crystal sitting in his palm. Inner peace. Rest. Relaxation. You smile to yourself at how Joel processes the information. Looking up into his eyes for the first time since your little tangent, “Yeah, baby, you’re getting it,” you say with a gentleness in your voice, the brightest of smiles on your face. 

Since he’s been with you, he has never seen you interact with any of this stuff before. It must be something you do on the down low, or something you rarely have a chance to indulge in. Whatever the case may be, the genuine light and happiness radiating off of you is addicting, and if it’s because of these things, he’ll gladly learn everything there is to know. 

He gently places the Amethyst down beside you, and picks up a light blue one, tower shaped. “This one magic, too?” 

Your eyes positively brighten, more than they are now. His heart beats stronger at the sight. You tell him the crystal he’s holding is called Celestite, and it helps with inner peace and is supposed to help guide you to a more divine consciousness when you meditate. He smiles with you, offering the occasional nod and grunt to signify he’s listening to you even though everything coming out of your mouth sounds like a foreign language to him. 

After the fifth round of him picking a crystal for you to explain, he opts for the cards sprawled all over your bed. “This… magic involves… card games?” He grimaces as the words leave his mouth, silently cursing himself for the insensitivity of his vocabulary. You stifle a laugh, knowing he didn’t mean it that way though, which is why you can’t help but pull him into a sweet kiss before you go on and explain. 

“What was that for?” He asks, cheeks reddened slightly. 

“Nothing, baby, I just love you.”

He presses another kiss to your forehead. “I love you, sweet girl. Now, tell me more about these not playing cards, please.”

Your cheeks hurt from all the smiles he’s been pulling from you. “Mhmm, so these are called tarot cards, my love.”

The next hour is spent with you explaining the cards, what they do, and what kind of things people use them for. Joel seems confused, weirded out, and impressed all in one. 

“Ain’t no way this lil thing answers my life questions,” he deadpans. 

“Okay, no it doesn’t give definite answers- these aren’t fortune tellers,” you say. He sees the gears turning in your head, trying to find a better way to explain to him. “They give advice or feedback…” you start. “They give guidance for the situation your current self is in. They aren’t meant to be taken like law or religion, but more so like if your friend was a therapist. They can give you advice, but not too much without crossing the patient-therapist threshold. Just tiny nudges in a potentially better direction.” 

Now it’s your turn to see the gears turning in his head. His smile slowly spreads the moment it actually clicks for him. “Oh, wait, that actually is makin’ sense to me,” he says a little more excited than usual. He places kisses on your forehead, cheek, and lips, trying to place his excitement somewhere. You laugh in his embrace. You’re beyond excited that the most important person in your life is open to something so unconventional, so taboo. 

For years, you’ve had to hide this little part of you for fear of your family shunning you. They’d kick you out without a second thought if they found out about this. They would be unwilling to hear your explanations and would deduce your actions down to the work of the Devil. 

They wouldn’t care that immersing yourself in the craft—whether this stuff is actually real or not—is what saved your life, time and time again. They wouldn’t care that when you had the worst depression episode, it was meditating, learning the meanings of different crystals, and connecting with the Earth and the divine that taught you the meaning of life again. None of them would ever be willing enough to even try to understand. 

“Thank you,” you say in a mere whisper, eyes glossing over slightly. 

He sees your eyes. His hand snakes up to your jaw, bringing your face closer to his, noses ghosting against one another. “For what, darlin’?” 

“For trying to understand. For acting like you want to.” Your eyes falter from his. His thumb caresses your cheekbone, trying to spark your attention back up to his gaze. It does. 

“No, baby. I want to. No actin’ here.” His lips meet yours, warming you from the inside out.

“You swear?” you ask him as he pulls away. 

His eyebrow quirks up at your antics. Your bottom lip juts out in a pout. “Swear?” you repeat. 

“On my life,” he says. 

You place one more kiss to his lips before you’re pulling away and sliding off the bed. “Come, I’ll cook. You haven’t eaten since this afternoon, huh?” 

“Guilty,” he tells you, face warm at how well you know him. “Mhmm. Do you mind just putting the cards back in that box over there for me real quick?” 

“Of course, darlin’.” 

“Thank you, baby,” and with that, you’re out in the kitchen, whipping up a small meal for the both of you.  

As he grabs all the cards, putting them in a stack before he slides them in the box, a singular card jumps out of his hands. He remembers what you said earlier. 

The way that I like to do it is by shuffling the deck and letting the card itself jump out at you! There are many ways to do it, but I don’t know. I like the pure chance of doing it that way.

He picks up the card, softly speaking to it. “Jumpin’ out for me?” He has to pull the card to and from his eyes a few times before his vision becomes clear. Love, the card reads. He smiles to himself, his heart giving him all the explanation he needs for the meaning of it. He places the card into his flannel pocket to show you after you dinner.  

With both your tummies satiated, you begin to gather the dishes when Joel throws you a stern look. Whether you two are actively in your dynamic or not, you know not to test that look. You settle back down in your seat, hands held up defensively with the smallest of airy giggles. 

“Ya know better than that, darlin’, especially if you cooked.”

“I know, I know,” you say to him apologetically. “I’ll take care of it,” he breathes, “but first,” he stands up, leaning over your shoulder so you both can look at the card from a good angle when he pulls it out. “Remember what you were sayin’ earlier ‘bout your cards jumpin’ out at ya and whatnot?” 

“Yeeaahh,” you drag out, turning your head and looking up at him curiously. 

“Well,” he reaches for the card tucked safely in his pocket. “As I was puttin’ them back in the box, this one just came out at me.” He sets it down softly in front of you. 

“Oh?” You’re eager to see which card. Love, your eyes read. Your heart beats five times stronger, and your smile grows ten times cheesier. 

“Does it mean anythin’?” He asks. “For our..current situation?” He has a silliness in his voice, but you can tell he’s genuinely curious. 

“It means…” you start, your eyes slowly leading back to meet his own. You stare into his eyes for a moment, soaking in the warmth, the safety, the love that he always gives you so willingly. A moment extra passes, and you’re still in a trance. He sees your stare fade from adoration into something more deep, needy. His stare changes, too. The pretty brown of his eyes nearly erased with arousal in your sudden change of energy. He quirks his eyebrow, reminding you to speak.

“It means.. Daddy needs to take me to bed,” you say, voice soft and shaky with arousal. 

“Is that right?” he asks, his deep voice vibrating you from the outside in.

His mere tone has you slipping already, your voice automatically pushing out a reply, knowing he requires a response after every question. “Y-yes,” you say. 

He leans in to give you a slow, heated kiss, his hand finding its way to your jaw. He pulls away, much too soon to your liking, but you don’t protest. “Bed. Now,” he says, standing himself to full height. “Yes, sir,” you say as you shoot up from your seat, making a bee line to your bedroom. “And in position,” he yells to you. 

You don’t respond to him then, but that’s okay. He knows his sweet girl heard him; he knows how good of a listener you are. Which is why he refrains from his original idea of teasing you—of clearing the dining table and washing the dishes and cleaning the kitchen—before he gives you what you need. 

Instead, he only clears the dining table, saving everything else for later and coming to you. He finds you, completely stripped of your clothes, centered at the middle of your bed, sitting on your haunches, palms face up on your thighs, eyes casted downward. Eager yet patient. Aching with need yet satiated knowing that you will be taken care of. His sweet girl. So good.

His shirt is the first to go, left somewhere at the doorway of your room. He’ll grab it later. For now, even though no one else is in this house, he shuts your door, wanting both of you to be completely consumed with one another and nothing else. He pulls the rest of his clothes off as he makes his way to the edge of your bed, leaning over. Your eyes are still downcast until his fingers are on your chin, bringing your attention to him. 

He can’t help but melt into a puddle with the way you’re looking at him. It’s almost as if he created the entire Universe for you. “Mi alma (my soul),” he says. “You’re always so good for me. Always.” He brings your lips together in a soft embrace. You chase his touch as best as his grip allows you to when he pulls away. 

Even softer than the kiss, he asks “How do you want me?”

“Doesn’t matter,” you respond, “I just need to feel you. Every single part of you, Daddy, I-”

He cuts your babbling off with a kiss, and this time, he doesn’t break it as he pushes you to lay on your back. He doesn’t break it as he lines himself up with you. He doesn’t break it as your legs go to wrap around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer. He foregos all forms of prep or foreplay, knowing you need him just as desperately as he needs you. 

The rest of your guys’ night is filled with exactly this. Feeling—and filling—each other in the deepest ways possible. He makes you cum on his cock several times before he fills you to the brim with his spend, kissing and licking into your mouth, all over your neck, and any other areas he can reach without straying too far from your face. He sees his entire existence in your eyes; he needs to be there as he gives himself to you. 

Reluctantly, he pulls away, lowering himself down your body and settling into the space between your thighs. He marvels at what a pretty mess both of you made, your shine all over as his cum begins to leak its way out of you. He leans forward, flat tongue licking up a slow, wet path across your entire sex. He stays there for hours, pulling climax and climax out of you, his belly feeling full at how much he’s taken from you. 

Even as you reach the territory of overstimulation, you don’t care. You want more. You need more. 

Joel makes his way back up to you, missing the feel of your mouth on his. As he looks up though, he sees tears pooling in your eyes. His hands immediately go to your face, thumbs catching the runaway tear. “Talk to me, baby,” his voice quivers, his feelings heightened at the emotional intensity of the last several hours. 

“I-” you choke back a sob. “Please don’t ever leave me, baby. I don’t think-” you take a shaky breath, more tears escaping your eyes. “I can’t live without you, baby, I need you, I love you, please don’t ever leave-”

His lips are back on yours, soft and all-consuming, stealing your anxieties and stowing them far away where they will never poison your mind ever again. 

“Never,” he says. “I’m yours, my sweet girl. Always. I’m not goin’ anywhere that’s not with you. I love you more than anythin’ in this fuckin’ world. You’re never gettin’ rid of me, ya hear, mi flor? (my flower),” he says as he gives your head a small shake, making sure his words are etching themselves into every groove of your brain so you never forget it. 

It’s been a week since that night you and Joel had your house to yourselves, and he still can’t shake the burst of insecurity that infiltrated your mind. Which is why he finds himself at a local (witch)craft store—way out of his depth but still set on finding the perfect thing to seal his love for you. 

You two have discussed the concept of a collar before, and you showed a genuine interest. It was a tangible reminder of who you belonged to, and it definitely made your heart skip a beat. However, you weren’t so attuned to the idea of the actual image of a traditional collar, and neither was Joel. The conversation was cut short because you got pulled into another task that had to be taken care of, and the topic was never brought about again. But Joel thinks about it more often than you think. 

In some dynamics, collars are accessories that a Dominant and submissive work their way up to. In a way, the collar symbolized a promise. It symbolized forever. For some, it was their wedding ring equivalent. That was what intrigued Joel so much. So, after last week, the idea has been eating away at him. 

And that’s when he saw it. A beautiful necklace, the chain, a mix of green crystals—your favorite color—all various shades, with a beautiful, metal pendant sitting at the heart of the necklace. It was a short chain, slightly longer than how a collar would wrap around your neck, but still mimicked the effect of one. You talk often about how much you love the moon and that night you talked about the amazing energy the moon provides. The pendant was a moon with a star hanging from the top of the moon’s crescent figure. It was perfect. It was you. 

He finds the worker and goes through the motions of purchasing the necklace for you. Of course, Joel wanted a tangible thing to symbolize his promise to you, and that’s when another idea struck him. He turned back around into the store. 

“Excuse me, ma’am,” he says. “Ya wouldn’t happen to have any rings, would ya? Preferably one with a moon?”

The lady gives a knowing smile. “Right this way,” she says. She may not understand the dynamic between the two of you, but she definitely can recognize a lovestruck man when she sees one. 

He calls you on his way home from the store. 

“Hi, mi luna (my moon),” he says. “What are you up to right now?”

“Hi, baby,” you respond giddily, his mere presence, whether on the phone or in person, always makes your mood one hundred times better. Hearing his little nickname for you though throws you off guard, forcing you to ignore his question. “Luna?”

He smiles. “It means moon.”

“No, yeah, I know that, baby,” you softly chuckle, “I meant, what inspired it?”

“No reason,” he says nonchalantly. “Was that okay though?”

“I like anything that comes outta your mouth, baby,” your voice laced with a filth he knows all too well. 

He takes a deep breath, trying to calm his cock from stirring. “Darlin’,” he says, voice strained. 

You stifle a laugh, knowing how easy it is to get him going. “Hmmmm?”

“You better choose your next words very wisely, girl.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you offer quickly as you fill his ears with your addicting laughter, “I’m done, I promise.”

He grumbles something incoherent, ever your handsome grump, then reminds you about his question. 

“Oh, right, sorry! I just got done cooking lunch for everyone. I’m in my room now, though.”

“Can you come over for a bit?”

“Always. You home now?” 

“Just parkin’, baby.”

“On my way, Sir,” you say, holding in another little giggle. 

“Fuckin’ trouble,” you hear him say before he ends the call. 

You meet him as he gets out his car, him pulling you in for a bruising kiss that immediately has your core pulsing. “Well, hello to you too, cowboy,” you smirk as he pulls away. He smacks your ass as he turns you around and starts guiding you inside, one hand on your hip, the other holding the bag with your new necklace inside. 

Not wanting him to let go of you, you spin in his arm and reach for his keys, turning back to unlock his front door. 

“So,” he starts as you break away from him, making your way to his couch. He immediately goes to the kitchen to grab you a glass of water, placing it in your hands rather than the table because he knows you probably haven’t had a moment to hydrate yourself, having just finished taking care of your family as he called you. 

You drink half the glass gratefully, bringing the rest to his mouth as he sits next to you, knowing he probably hasn’t hydrated himself either. He finishes it then sets the glass down on the coffee table. 

“I got you somethin’.” He tries to sound mysterious, but really he’s sounding like an excited schoolboy ready to share his treasure with the class. 

“Oh yeah?” you say. “May I ask why? It wasn’t expensive, right?” You soften at your last question.

He knows you get a little apprehensive at the idea of money being spent on you. But he abides by your wishes too much to his liking, so this, he allows himself. “The number don’t matter, baby. Close your eyes and turn around.” 

“Sir, yes, sir,” you mutter under your breath, adjusting yourself to be between his legs, his one stretched across the couch as the other hangs off the side. 

Once you settle in front of him, he leans over to grab the bag from the table and pull the necklace out. “Eyes closed, baby?”

“Mhm.”

“You remember a while back our conversation on collars?”

“Yes?” you say, a questioning inflection present. 

 “Well…” Joel trails off. Right as you jump to speak at his weird behavior, you feel cold metal grace the skin of your neck. You gasp at the sudden change in temperature, fighting for your life to keep your eyes closed until he tells you to do otherwise. 

“I know neither of us wanted the traditional look. Something more sly has always been our style, huh? I hope I chose okay,” he says softly.

“I’m gonna cry, can I please open my eyes now?”

“Yeah, bab- no, actually, wait,” he says, pulling you to stand up, his hands on your hips, guiding you to the mirror in his en suite bathroom. “Okay, yeah. Open.”

The second your eyes open and land onto the ethereal necklace resting on your chest, you can’t help the flood that falls from your eyes. “Joel,” you breathe out. “Baby, oh my god.”

“Is it alright?”

You turn in his arms, your eyes now directly on his instead of through your reflection. “Baby, really? Is it alright? This is the most beautiful fucking thing I’ve ever laid my eyes on,” your voice cracking through each word. 

His cheeks are a little blushed, slightly bashful at your praise. “I just- I wasn’t sure what to choose or what crystal had what magic, but what really sold me was the moon,” he says as his hand comes up to caress the pendant. 

You respond to him by pulling him in for a kiss. One in which you hope tells him everything he needs to know about how grateful and how truly, deeply in love with him you are. His arms snake around your waist, pulling you flush against his body as he kisses into you, replicating the same feeling back to you. You begin to smile through the kiss as something else clicks for you. You pull away from him. 

“Is this why you called me luna earlier?”

“You don’t like it?”

“No, baby, I actually really love it,” you smile up at him, butterflies erupting in his belly at the sight. “Coming from only you though.” His hand snakes up to grab your jaw, pulling you into his mouth as he whispers mi luna before crashing himself onto you for another kiss. 

You pull away from him, breathless, and turn to face the mirror again. You’re too entranced by the beautiful jewelry to keep your eyes off of it for too long. His hands snake around your waist, and it’s then that you notice it. 

You freeze. You grab his left hand, an antique looking moon, identical to the one on your neck, wrapped around his ring finger, staring back at you. Your eyes flick back up to your guys’ reflection, meeting his eyes. “Was waitin’ for you to notice,” he says. 

If you thought you were sobbing before, then you’re an absolute wailing mess now, hiccuping like a little child who is yet to learn how to control their emotions. “I love you so fucking much,” you say as best as you can in between each hiccupped breath you take.

He turns you back to face him, cupping your face with both hands, peppering your face with kisses everywhere he can manage. Soft I love you’s leave his mouth in a chant, praying to his one and only Goddess. 

He lets you cry it out, he knows you need to. As soon as you're less of a blubbering mess, he’ll remind you that he is forever yours until you choose otherwise. He’ll remind you that although he takes charge ninety-nine percent of the time, it’s because you let him. 

He’ll remind you just how much he’s irrevocably in love with you, verbally, physically, and every other way he can. From now until forever. 

End Note: Thank you all so much for reading! Likes, comments, reblogs, etc. — all your support means the absolute world to me. I wouldn’t be able to do this without all of you. Thank you so so so much. There are genuinely not enough words to express my gratitude. As always feedback (at a technical sense) is also super super helpful whether it is constructive or positive! Anything helps me to be the best writer that I can be. All my love! Xo

Tags: @javierpena-inatacvest @katiexpunk @janaispunk @farmerlarrry @mellymbee @jobee403 @soavenuepenguin @survivingandenduring @getitoutofmymind @rainbowcosmicchaos @untamedheart81 @babygal-babygal @pedritoferg @akah565 @pedrostories

EDIT: As of the new year 2024, I no longer do taglists!! Follow @endlessthxxghtsnotifs and turn on the notifications to be updated when new stories come out!!

[leviathanlazarus]

Bring a Friend

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x Danny Wagner x (F) Reader

Word Count: ~6800

Warnings: it's a threeway with HEAVY slash. Don't like it, don't read it. (voyeurism; oral sex w/ M & F receiving; dirty talking; bottom!Sam; Danny is a bit of a dom; fingering all around; protected anal & vaginal sex) 18+ only!

@mackalah sent a call to the universe asking for a Sanny x Reader fic inspired by the song Lost in the Fire by The Weeknd. I've been writing Sanny fics for a long time and I never get tired of doing it. I think I was one of the first, if not the first, writers in the fandom to write a Sanny threeway, actually...and I never thought I'd write more of those but I felt very inspired by this song and the idea...even if it doesn't fit your specific image, I hope anyone who reads this enjoys it ;)

---

Sure, you had reconciled with the fact that Sam would never love you as much as he loved Danny. At first, their overwhelming affection and adoration for one another was kind of cute to you. Seeing Sam so enamored with a boy was adorable–quite special, really. You loved that he could love a best friend so fiercely, so passionately. But then it had become clearer and clearer throughout your relationship that you would never be even close to a priority no matter how long you were with Sam or how close you two became–Danny would always be closer, and Danny would always be number one. 

So things ended. Amicably enough, thankfully, and you still saw Sam–and by default, Danny–all the time. You were friends. But you weren’t sure how to respond when Sam started sending you pictures that showcased more of their friendship than you’d ever imagined. Well, not seriously imagined, anyway.

The first one was almost passable as innocent–a picture of Sam and Danny’s arms slung across one another’s shoulders, Danny leaning in and pressing his lips to Sam’s cheek. 

Cute, you texted back. 

Jealous? Sam replied.

You balked at your phone. Sam was ridiculous. Of you or of him?

Either

Nope

Hmm… 

After that text, he sent you a picture of them actually kissing–Danny was planting a big one right on Sam’s mouth and Sam was smiling into it, arm outstretched to capture the moment on his phone.

What about now?

You stared at the picture, flabbergasted. It was kind of hot, you had to admit, but you also felt your chest tighten with bitterness–you’d really tried with Sam. You’d been patient and forgiving, welcoming of how close Danny was to him, but it just never felt like you were enough. Not the perfect fit. And that wore you down more and more until it just all had to end. But here Sam was showing off his perfect match, apparently really trying to make you jealous when you thought all those feelings of jealousy had been buried and forgotten.

You left Sam on read, ignoring his attempt to antagonize you, but later, when you’d nearly forgotten about the pictures, Danny texted you:

Did Sam send pics of us together to you?

You sighed. You weren’t really in the mood to get more, but maybe Danny would spare you. 

Yes. Did you guys take those just to send to me and make me “jealous?”

Actually no. I didn’t even know he sent them until now. I’m really sorry if it upset you 

Another sigh. Danny was a sweetheart. Surely he really didn’t want to rile you up or hurt your feelings. 

It's okay. You guys are good together

Thanks. You and Sam were good together too

You left that alone. As much as you could appreciate the sentiment, you weren’t in the mood to travel further down memory lane. But later, when you were lying in bed, you found yourself opening up your texts to look at those pictures again, especially lingering on the snapshot of Sam and Danny kissing. Finally, with a huff you locked your phone and tossed it aside before you tossed yourself into a fitful sleep.

But the next day, the pictures commenced. The first one was sent in the middle of the night and was a perplexing awakening–a picture clearly taken from Sam’s POV. You’d recognize that torso anywhere and there it was in clear digital–Sam flat on his back, a string of bright pink bite marks down his stomach and Danny’s wild dark curls pressed against his belly. You couldn’t see his face, but you also knew that hair anywhere. You sat up in bed rubbing your eyes and once your brain made full sense of the image, you wanted to be mad. You were mad–you could feel the heat rising in your body, the tension growing in your mind, but you also felt a tingle of betrayal shudder through you all the same. 

No text accompanied the photo. It was bait and you weren’t going for it. If Sam wanted you to be jealous, you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction; if he just wanted you to have the pictures for whatever demented reason, you’d accept. But when the pictures kept coming and got progressively more raunchy, you thought the picture of Sam kissing Danny’s neck, his hand shoved down Danny’s pants, had to be the last one. There was no way it would escalate. But it did–later that night Sam sent you a picture of Danny straight up sucking his dick.

That made you gasp and, without even thinking about it, press the call button.

“Sam!” you shouted when he answered. “What the fuck are you doing? Does Danny know you’re sending me all these?”

Sam laughed. Such a bastard. “He didn’t at first. But now he does. He’s been encouraging me.”

You held your face in your free hand, sighing. “Sam. What the hell is wrong with you? I’ve really worked hard to move past our breakup and I–”

“Y/N, I know. That’s not what this is.” Sam paused for a second and you sensed he wasn’t alone on the other end. “This is an invitation.”

You couldn’t lie to yourself–you’d thought about it. How could you not after receiving all those pictures? But still the words from Sam didn’t make sense in your mind. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean exactly what I said. We’re inviting you to join us.” When you didn’t respond, Sam continued: “Just for a night, you know? Test it out?”

The words were still bouncing around. Your heart sped up with curiosity. “Let me talk to Danny,” you ordered. “I’m sure he’s with you right now. Right?” Danny would make it make sense. 

Another laugh from Sam. “Yeah, he’s here. Hang on.” There was a vague shuffle and then Danny’s voice was in your ear.

“Danny, please explain this to me,” you demanded, growing even more flustered and impatient. “What’s Sam talking about?”

“Well, um, I think he kind of said it all.”

You let out an exasperated huff. “He did not say it all, Danny. Clearly I need you to spell it out for me.”

“We both like you and we want to have a threesome,” Danny explained and you could hear Sam laugh in the background. “That’s it. If you don’t want to, it’s totally cool. And I’ll tell him to stop sending the pictures.”

Maybe it was strange, but when you’d looked at all the photos, you’d never pictured yourself being part of the action. Sam and Danny came as a pair–clearly. Your relationship had ended because of that–and were truly, as far as you were concerned, meant for one another. To get between that seemed strange, not to mention held incredible risk to damage the friendship you were still clinging to with both of them. 

You thought about the pictures some more though and felt you landed on some middle ground, unorthodox as it was. But all of this was entirely unorthodox. “What if I watched?” you proposed.

“What? You want to?” Danny asked, the surprise in his voice ridiculous to you given what he and Sam had already proposed themselves. 

“Sure. Clearly, Sam’s into that.”

There was a slight pause, then Danny said, “Okay. Yeah, sure. We’re into that too.”

It was probably one of the worst decisions of your life. But when you hung up, you couldn’t help but feel a little excited about it.

-

You were surprised at how Sam and Danny didn’t seem to care at all that you were watching, sitting in the oversized, plush lounge chair that had been hauled from the living room to the bedroom for the big show. You were also surprised at how, as the action progressed and you were seemingly forgotten, sinking back into the walls like you were invisible, you cared less and less as well. Sam and Danny were completely enthralling to watch–Sam was lying half on top of Danny, kissing him like his best friend was made of pure magic, and Danny was cradling the back of Sam’s head like he was a precious piece of art. Both things were true in your mind–Danny was like a magical, mystical storm enveloping Sam, who was indeed a rare and beautiful work of art that needed to be treasured.

When Sam smiled into the next kiss, a lightning bolt of jealousy pierced your chest. They looked at one another like they were completely in love, probably because they were. Sam had never looked at you like that. But it made sense. You were just the last in a string of failed girlfriends before Sam finally realized who his true partner was. You could imagine that Danny had been silently waiting and beckoning Sam to come to him for good. 

Nevertheless, you couldn’t deny that what you were privileged to witness was also painfully hot, even hotter when they both took their shirts off; Sam dipped his head down to begin kissing Danny’s neck and Danny’s hands roamed Sam’s shoulders and back, then up to toy with his hair. 

For the first time since they’d begun, Sam addressed you. “Isn’t he so hot?” he asked, glancing at you while he ran his fingers over Danny’s ribs. 

“Very hot,” you agreed; Danny blushed in response.

“Did you ever think about fucking him?” Sam continued. The question didn’t catch you off-guard, having expected to be a little scrutinized with all the build-up to this event. If nothing else, the conversation probably just made Sam even more turned on.

“Who hasn’t?” you replied. You had, not that you’d ever told Sam that. Not that Danny ever showed any interest. And not that Sam would have cared, you realized; on the contrary, you now knew he would have jumped at this opportunity much earlier. 

“I know, right?” Sam resumed pressing kisses to Danny’ neck, holding the side of his face; Danny nuzzled against his palm and that image made your heart swell. They adored each other so vividly and so overtly. 

“I’m surprised you’re okay with being watched, Danny,” you noted, feeling a little more apt to talking now that Sam had extended that olive branch. 

“I said I’d try it. For Sam,” Danny told you. Sam smirked against his skin and wiggled down to mouth against his chest. “I don’t mind, really. It’s just you.” 

“You like watching?” Sam inquired, peeking at you with his face still pressed against Danny’s chest, his cheek resting against his sternum.

“Yeah, it’s hot,” you said. You could feel your own body literally growing hotter by the second just watching, even more so when Sam finally brought one hand down to Danny’s crotch. Your breath hitched as Danny’s did too, and he arched up into Sam’s touch. 

“Just wait ‘til you see his dick,” Sam said, stroking Danny over his sweatpants. You could see the faint outline, impressively sized, not to your surprise. Sam brought himself to his knees and moved lower, bringing his fingers to the waistband of Danny’s pants. “It’s so big I can hardly take it.”

Your cheeks suddenly burned. “Jesus, Sam.”

Sam laughed. “What? It’s true!” 

“It is true,” Danny affirmed, putting both his hands on Sam’s head. “But you’re gonna take it tonight, right? Show Y/N how good you can be for me?”

You hadn’t, however, expected Danny to chime into the dirty talking. It seemed so out of character but it worked, and it had you rubbing your thighs together, starting to feel tortured. But you were going to try to keep up. “You let him fuck you, Sam?”

“Sure do. He’s fucking good at it too,” Sam said with a rough, low laugh. He pulled down Danny’s pants and that impressive dick was free, rock hard and looking heavy against Danny’s abdomen. You watched Danny close his eyes as Sam licked straight up his length, cradling his balls in one hand while the other was clenching tight around his hip. 

“Is Sam good at sucking dick?” you asked. Danny seemed to be enjoying it already, even with Sam just licking and jerking him off slowly.

Danny nodded, humming, and laced his fingers through Sam’s hair. “He’s so good at it. He knows just what I like. Why don’t you show her, Sammy?”

And Sam did, gripping the base of Danny’s cock to prop him up before he went down. Danny was big–the fact that Sam could take half in one go was impressive and you squeezed your thighs together harder, struggling more and more to figure out what to do with your own hands. Meanwhile, Sam knew what to do with his hands. He started to stroke Danny while he sucked and his other hand trailed up Danny’s body, palming at his chest before he slipped his fingers into Danny’s mouth. 

There was no music to curtail the sounds they were both making–Sam’s sloppy sucking and occasional gags, Danny’s muffled gasps and moans that turned to whimpers with Sam’s fingers in his mouth and his cock being worked over longer and harder. Maybe all of this should have been shocking. You never thought, not before all those pictures anyway, that Sam would go down on any man and you certainly never could have imagined you’d watch it happen, but the whole thing was far more arousing than shocking. It was like your brain couldn’t even acknowledge the surprise that should have been blatant, rather it was fixated on the pure pleasure Sam was giving to Danny and how it translated to you somehow, an invisible line connecting all three of you.

Forever, for sure. You’d have to take all of this to the grave.

Sam suddenly grunted and popped off, grinning at Danny with spit coating his chin. “Ouch, Daniel.” He turned to you. “He’s such a biter.”

You’d been too busy watching Sam going down on him to have noticed Danny chomping on his fingers. “I remember,” you said, voice just a tad wobbly which you hoped would go unnoticed. “From that picture. All those marks on your stomach.” You could still see faint pink remnants on Sam’s torso now.

“Mmm, yeah.” Sam jerked Danny off, a wet slick sound thanks to all the saliva he’d left behind, and kept his eyes on you while he asked, “Wanna watch him do it?”

You felt like you were about to burst despite no one touching you or touching yourself, but the idea of Danny doing that was too enticing to turn down. You also felt it was possible that such a long delay before your own ecstasy could make it all even more incredible. So you said yes and quickly Sam flopped onto his back, encouraging Danny to come to him with outstretched arms, but he had to wait a moment–Danny fumbled on the bed for a few seconds trying to get his pants all the way off and his struggle elicited a much-needed laugh from you and Sam.

“Stop laughing,” Danny protested with a final kick, sending the sweatpants to the floor. “Getting naked isn’t always like, a graceful thing.”

“You’re not as bad as Sam,” you assured him, and Sam shot you an insulted look. “He just tears everything off like an animal. No grace at all.”

“I like doing it for him,” Danny said. He kissed Sam on the mouth softly, deeply, and Sam’s arms circled his shoulders, bringing him even closer. You watched closely, glued to the chair, as Danny brushed Sam’s hair back and brought his mouth to his neck; you’d always loved kissing Sam’s neck, too. Would he make the same sorts of sounds when Danny did it? 

The soft sigh that Sam let out when Danny kissed along his throat was similar, yet still different. There was more desperation in that sound, especially when Danny carried on gently for another few moments before you saw him sink his teeth right in. Sam shuddered and clawed at Danny’s shoulders, and suddenly you were wondering what Danny’s mouth would feel like on you. 

“Yeah, Sam loves when I mark him up,” Danny purred, trailing his increasingly harsh and teeth-filled kisses down Sam’s torso. He stopped at Sam’s belly, his teeth pressing into the soft skin as he pulled down his shorts. Seeing Sam’s dick was nothing new for you, but when Danny abruptly grabbed Sam by the hips to toss him over, then lifted him onto his knees, that was an entirely new sight. 

Danny gripped Sam’s ass while he dove right in and took a bite into one cheek like he really was trying to eat him; Sam yelped and you gasped. It looked like it hurt–when Danny pulled back, there was already an angry red mark, but then Sam moaned and laughed a little.

“God, Sam. I didn’t know you were like this,” you remarked, perplexed and fascinated and so turned on that you had to sit right on top of your hands. “I’ve never seen you so–I don’t know. Submissive.”

“He’s a good boy for me,” Danny said, the words low and deep, and pet his hands up Sam’s sides. You could see that–Sam was perfectly pliant beneath Danny’s touch, like he was just waiting for whatever happened next, and so responsive to everything. Danny looked at you and his next question, though you’d been secretly waiting for it, nearly made you collapse out of the chair: “Wanna help him get ready?”

You balked for a moment, wide-eyed and so stiff from all the pent up excitement and curiosity. “Ready for–?”

Sam snapped his head to the side, peering at you sharply through his hair that had fallen into his face. “Ready to fuck me, obviously,” he snarked, but when Danny grabbed his hips hard and gave another bite to his ass, he quivered and his voice softened as he added, “Get over here, Y/N. We need you.”

That short sentence circled around in your mind, urging you to move but you felt like you couldn’t–the thought of getting up fully clothed to just wander over to what was happening on the bed seemed awkward and silly. Clearly your trepidation didn’t go unnoticed, because Danny was walking over to you, naked as the day he was born, and lifted you up. 

“Don’t be scared,” he said in your ear, pushing you onward while he stayed behind you, his erection unceremoniously pressing against your lower back. 

“I’m not scared,” you said, but you gasped again when Danny tugged at your pants and Sam was suddenly right in front of you yanking on the hem of your shirt. Helpless, you let them both strip you down to your bra and panties; Sam leaned back on his hands with a grin while you felt Danny move in even closer, his hands stroking your hips. 

“Is that okay?” Danny asked, his lips on your ear. 

“Yeah, sure,” was all you could say. You shivered when Sam reached one of his hands out to lightly press his fingers to the crotch of your panties. 

“It was really hot for you to watch,” Sam said, drawing a line down your thigh with one fingertip. “Danny was nervous about it. Performance anxiety, you know. But–” He leaned to the side to look behind you. “It looks like he’s doing just fine.”

You were feeling more relaxed–Sam was back to himself, at least momentarily, and Danny was keeping his touches gentle and tentative. “You guys look like you’re made for each other. It makes sense why we didn’t work out.”

Sam frowned a little. “I feel bad about that, Y/N. I didn’t even know how into Danny I was until, well, pretty recently.”

Danny gave a little snort. “Please. I think everyone but you could see it pretty clearly.”

Sam rolled his eyes before he sighed and looked back at you. “You should try kissing him,” he suggested, leaning back once more. “It’s totally serendipitous.”

You could imagine. You turned in Danny’s arms; he smiled at you so sweetly that you were wrapped up in his softness, not even realizing he was single handedly bringing you down to the bed to lie next to Sam. Then he was kissing you as tenderly as he’d smiled at you and you felt you understood what Sam must have been feeling while you’d been watching earlier–kissing Danny was like magic. 

You were feeling quite fulfilled just from making out and touching–Danny was so warm and so firm, his muscles taut beneath your fingers, his hair so soft–but then he was abruptly being pulled away from you. “Alright, back to business,” Sam commanded, yanking Danny away by his hair, to which Danny was grimacing and reaching up untangle Sam’s fingers. 

“Ha!” Danny exclaimed when Sam freed him. “You’re jealous.”

You’d never seen Sam jealous before, actually, but now that Danny was pointing it out, you could see it clearly–the darkness in his eyes beneath furrowed brows, the exaggerated slant of his cheekbones as he pouted, the flush on his cheeks. 

“You’re supposed to make it even during threesomes,” Sam said, looking from Danny to you then back again. Jealous or not, he was still hard, you noticed. “You have to divvy up the attention, Daniel and Y/N.”

“Fine,” Danny said shortly. “Then get on your knees again.” Instead of waiting even one second for Sam to do it himself, he grabbed his ankles and rolled him over again.

“Such a dom,” Sam said with a chuckle.

“God,” was all you could say, breathless at being involved now, not just witnessing. You needed to see more though and you were starting to understand your place in all this–you moved up to sit in front of Sam, lightly touching his face. “Hey, Sam–can I kiss you?”

He smirked at you, though you felt he had no right to when he was in such a vulnerable position, his ass quite literally in Danny’s face. “I thought you’d never ask,” Sam said, inching forward on his elbows, an image so ridiculous that you almost laughed. Instead, you brought your smile to his lips and kissed him for the first time in months–it should have felt ordinary but it didn’t. It felt brand new, strange and a little scary, made even scarier by the sudden popping sound that broke out from below.

You pulled away to identify the source, which was Danny squeezing lube onto his fingers. “Where’d you get that?” you asked, keeping your hands on Sam’s shoulders.

Danny chuckled, closing the cap of the bottle. “It was already on the bed.” With his dry hand he lifted a strip of condoms from the mattress and waved them around. “We came prepared.”

You grimaced; Sam and Danny both laughed. “Well, um–that’s good,” you said, but jeez. When had your ex-boyfriend and his best friend become such sex-crazed maniacs? It wasn’t the condoms or the lube–it was the fact that Sam was wiggling his hips back to Danny and Danny was squeezing one of his ass cheeks, anticipation evident on his face. 

“Are you good?” Sam asked, propping himself up on his knees to get directly in front of you, wrapping his arms around you.

“Yeah, uh, I’m very good,” you stammered, running a hand through your hair and nearly knocking Sam in the face in the process. “It’s just–a lot to process.”

Danny moved right behind Sam, holding him so you were all pressed together like an obscene panini. “Yeah, it is for us, too,” he said, resting his chin on Sam’s shoulders. “You’re the only one we’d wanna do this with.”

“Speak for yourself,” Sam said. “I’m keeping my options open.”

“You’re fucking rude, Sam,” you said, but all the distractions kept any real heat away from your voice. 

Sam laughed, that loud cackle that nearly made the walls vibrate. “I’m kidding, Y/N!” He grabbed your face and pulled you forward to plant a fast, harsh kiss to your mouth before he snapped back and said, looking over his shoulder at Danny, “Now let’s get this show on the road, big guy. Show her what you’re made of.” 

That certainly did set things in motion, with Danny moving swiftly to get Sam back down in front of you; Sam planted his face in your lap and grabbed your hips, hastily pulling your underwear down. You weren’t sure where to fix your eyes–at Danny kissing Sam’s spine and his arm moving vaguely below or Sam tossing your panties to the floor, then latching his teeth to your inner thigh.

You let out a flustered breath and unhooked your bra. “Since everyone else is doing it–”

Sam’s voice was faintly muffled with his face between your legs: “That’s the spirit.” Though it shouldn’t have, the swipe of his tongue up your center came as a surprise, but not as much of a surprise as the loud keen that came from him as Danny perked up behind him, looking at both of you. 

“Oh my god,” you uttered, trembling as you met Danny’s gaze. “Are you–”

“I’m getting him ready,” Danny answered as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world. When you straightened up a bit, you got a better peek at what Danny’s hands were doing–one was gripping Sam’s hip and the other was thrusting idly. “I gotta open him up.” He draped himself over Sam’s back, his own upper body long enough for his own dark curls to mix with Sam’s sleek chestnut hair. “How do you want it, Sammy? Nice and easy or hard and fast?”

Sam gave an upwards nod at you. “Whatever she wants to see.”

Being given a clear say in this matter triggered a need for vengeance that you hadn’t even known existed. “Hard and fast,” you told Danny. He looked a little surprised, eyes widening slightly and lips parting; you tugged Sam’s hair a bit to make him look up at you again. “I bet that’s how you really like it, isn’t it?”

Of course Sam wouldn’t give you the satisfaction of feeling like revenge was ever possible. He laughed softly and said, “I like it however Danny likes it.”

Danny pulled back. “Which just happens to be hard and fast,” he said, and you caught a glimpse of him thrusting his hand forward again and Sam let out a choked little whimper, then a bitten-back groan as Danny gave a shockingly sharp, hard smack to his ass. 

You had nothing to say to that. You simply tried to process what the hell was happening all around you once more, which was a good thing; you couldn’t exactly speak when Sam began nipping at your thigh and sliding two fingers inside of you. You kept your hands in his hair and fought the urge to close your eyes–you wanted to see as much as you could of Danny working his own fingers in and out of Sam and the way your ex-boyfriend’s body moved so sinuously with every motion. Sam pressed his tongue to your clit again, licking with impressive intention given the position he was in, while his soft grunts got muffled against your heat. 

“How’s that feel?” Danny asked, and you weren’t sure if he was asking you or Sam or both of you.

“Good,” you said at the same time Sam said, “Amazing.” He looked up with suspicion. “Just ‘good?’ Alright, guess I have to work harder.” He brought his face back down, lapping at your clit wetly while his fingers worked deeper and harder through your own wetness. You felt a little embarrassed at how you were already dampening the sheet beneath you but you couldn’t help it–this was by far the most wild and the hottest sexual experience of your life. It made you a little mad that Sam being a kind of shitty boyfriend had to be the lead up to it. 

Danny hummed. “So, Sam–think you’re ready?”

Sam nodded between your thighs, then looked up, his lips and chin shiny with your slick and his spit. “I’ve got an idea,” he began, lifting himself up and using your legs for leverage. “Get under me. That way, it’ll be like getting fucked by both of us.” He laughed a little, looking very satisfied with his own suggestion. “Except I'll still be getting fucked the way I want.” 

“Always about you,” you muttered, a futile sort of defense mechanism against this very bewildering idea. But Sam only pulled you down as much as he could, until you were halfway down the bed and halfway beneath him.

Danny, you could tell based on the crinkling sound, was getting a condom on; you watched him slip one to Sam, who wasted no time in tearing it open. His abdomen flexed as he stayed upright on his knees and rolled the condom over his own cock; you reached out to touch him, his body still so familiar. The onset of an ache, of wanting Sam so badly, began to override the ache for punishing him. Maybe all of this was an apology in and of itself. 

“I gotta get in you before he gets me,” Sam said. His voice was calm but his cheeks were vivid scarlet and sweat beaded on his hairline. You spread your legs and got your arms around his waist, both bringing him down to you and giving yourself some much-needed stability, and Sam slid into you like it was any other ordinary time, except for Danny’s hands looping around his chest and bringing his chin back to Sam’s shoulder. 

The slide was easy–probably far easier than Sam’s experience would be, you thought–and Danny watched while he sank his teeth into Sam’s skin, the swirling forest of his irises fixed on yours in a way that would have made you feel self-conscious if it weren’t for Sam overtaking you being so distracting. 

“God, you feel good,” Sam said quietly, giving a shallow thrust. That was enough to make you moan softly in response, gripping his middle more tightly. Your arms were brushing against Danny’s abdomen; Danny brought one hand to your forearm as if encouraging you both to keep going, so Sam did with a few more gentle shoves of his hips. As you were just getting used to the sensation of three bodies of increasing heat coming together, Sam’s cock sliding through your wetness and his hands squeezing your breasts, Danny shifted and Sam’s serene face turned to an open-mouthed, tense visage.

“That’s it, Sammy,” Danny encouraged. There was so much love in his voice that it made you feel loved too, though it was obvious in that moment he was wholly focused on Sam. Rightfully so. Sam responded viscerally not only with his facial expressions that only you could see, but with his voice, cursing softly and moaning low, and the full-body shudder that ran through him as Danny pushed forward. 

You could imagine it being a bit of a challenge to take Danny yourself; the fact that Sam could do it was actually a little amazing. “God, Sam,” you said, stroking his hair. The soft reverence emanating from Danny made you feel the same–this was an experience to be treasured no matter how it went. “This is so hot. You guys look really hot together.” 

“He feels so good. Literally so hot,” Danny said. He leaned over Sam again, making Sam push down on you, and subsequently into you, harder. Danny was fully in charge now, something you were entirely unopposed to–you watched, fascinated, as he began to move, his hands wandering over Sam’s chest and hips while he started to thrust. He built up a rhythm swiftly and easily, soon enough making Sam let out moans that became choked little sobbing sounds as Danny started to live up to expectations–he was fucking Sam hard and fast and you were on the receiving end of the last gyrations and echoes of his movements. 

You grabbed the back of Sam’s head, pulling him in to kiss. There was just barely enough room to snake your arm between the two of your bodies; your first two fingers made a V around the base of Sam’s cock, stroking him lightly before you brought them to circle your clit. Sam’s desperate moans were drowned out by your incessant kissing–you wanted to consume him like Danny did, or as close to it as possible.

Between pants and huffs of effort, Danny’s voice snaked through your ears: “Do you like it, Sammy?” he asked and you opened your ears, giving Sam some necessary air and giving yourself quite the view as you strained to the side. Danny’s thighs were flexing with each thrust and his hands had a stronghold around Sam’s hips; Sam was all wobbly limbs and flushed skin, his hands clamped on your shoulders. 

“Yeah,” was all Sam said. It was probably all he could say while Danny pounded into him. 

Danny’s eyebrows rose. “What was that?” You bit your lip as Sam’s face tensed, his eyes shut tight, and waited for Sam to respond, but he didn’t. He only moaned a little, quiet and subdued, then the tension was slashed to pieces by another hard smack against his ass. “Sam?” 

“Fuck!” Sam was explosive now with that one word, fucking himself back onto Danny and, subsequently, harder into you as he shifted back and forth. Words escaped you entirely as you just tried to ride through the dense waves, but Danny apparently had more.

“Tell Y/N how much you like this,” Danny demanded, yanking Sam’s head back by a fistful of hair, Sam squirming helplessly all the way. 

“Oh my god, I like it,” Sam let out breathlessly, trying to look back at Danny. With the additional space, you touched yourself again more freely. Your chest and stomach felt so tight, this huge buildup growing even more–the fear surrounding this was gone. The anticipation had been alleviated and the payoff was more than you’d ever imagined, because the image of Danny holding Sam’s hip while he pulled his hair, his lips roaming Sam’s neck, and Sam desperately trying to please both of you was the most incredible thing you’d ever seen. 

It was Danny's name that escaped your lips as you came, eyes shutting to dizzying blackness, shuddering violently beneath Sam and squeezing his cock tight inside you. Even in the throes of your own little explosion, you realized what you’d said and managed to say Sam’s name next, and reached for him with one hand. 

“Oh fuck, I like that too,” Sam said against your cheek, teeth then dragging down to your neck. “You coming around me while Danny fucks me. So fucking hot.” 

“Fuck, you guys–” you started to say, still out of breath, and tangled your fingers in Sam’s hair, trying to keep him close. “This is–wow. Are you close?”

“Sam’s ready to blow,” Danny answered, not showing any sign of slowing down. “He’s getting even tighter and–” He peeked down, then Sam gasped. “Yup, his balls are full. You gonna come for us, Sam?”

“Danny, where’d you learn how to dirty talk like this?” you questioned, genuinely flabbergasted by how easily the more easygoing, friendly and sometimes exceptionally shy and boyish side could give way to a man who was so in charge, so lustful, so commanding.

“He’s a secret slut,” Sam quipped, which got him another slap on the ass. He laughed a little, then you were caught in the dark again when he began to kiss you. Based on just that, it did seem like Sam was close–the kisses were getting sloppier, the stifled moans sharper, his hands squeezing your body harder. And when he did come, it wasn’t exactly what you were used to because Sam also moaned Danny’s name, both syllables whispered on your lips.

“That’s good, baby,” Danny cooed. Your vision was a bit fuzzy as you tried to look right at him, but you could see quite clearly how tenderly those big hands moved down Sam’s trembling back. The gentleness was short-lived–Danny went back into thrusting harshly, their muscles clashing against one another’s, Danny’s fingers raking down Sam’s sides. You’d never seen Danny come. Never thought you ever would. You thought that would be forever reserved for Sam now that they’d gotten together. So, enthralled once more, you stayed transfixed on him as he closed his eyes and lurched forward, his upper body hanging over Sam, his curls shielding parts of his face. But you could see the twitch of a brow and the parting of his lips, then the white teeth biting down, and then Danny let himself go entirely. He flopped down on top of Sam, who collapsed on top of you.

“Okay, jeez, you guys are heavy,” you noted after getting the wind knocked out of you. Sam stayed motionless, but Danny had the decency to get up. You turned your head to the side to watch him move off the bed, carefully roll the condom off himself and grab his pants from the floor. You considered asking him to stay naked because, well, why not? But then Sam groaned loudly, interrupting your thoughts.

“I’m gonna be so fucking sore tomorrow,” he declared, finally rolling off you, spreading out on his back; he stretched and you heard a crack come from somewhere. “Thanks, Daniel.”

Danny stepped over to pat Sam’s thigh. “You’re welcome.” He looked over at you. “How are you feeling?”

“I–” you paused, trying to find the right words, but first you needed to find your clothes again. Sam might have been comfortable living nude as often as he could, but you needed some sense of familiar security around you after all that. As you got redressed, you continued: “I felt many things during all that, honestly. It was kinda fun to see Sam getting wrecked.” Danny beamed at that, which almost made you laugh, which made Sam actually laugh. “I think you guys really are great together and I’m happy for you. But breaking up still really hurt.”

Danny gave a sympathetic frown then, his eyes becoming softer; Sam crawled over to your seat at the edge of the bed. “I’m sorry. I really am,” he said, sounding shockingly genuine. “I should’ve been a better boyfriend while I was still your boyfriend.”

“It’s okay, Sam, honestly,” you assured him, patting the arm that had wrapped around you. “It’s over and, really, it was fine. You were just in love with someone else. Better being in love with Danny than some random stranger or something.”

“Maybe if he’d told me sooner, we wouldn’t have ended up in that whole mess.”

Danny scoffed, planting his hands on his hips as he stood in front of both of you. “I sent you like, a million signals, Sam. You were pretty much the only person who didn't realize sooner.”

“It’s true,” you chimed in. “Looking back, Danny never really tried to hide anything.”

Sam sighed, then hopped off the bed and plastered himself against Danny’s side. “Okay, well, we didn’t hide anything tonight, did we?” He reached down and grabbed Danny’s crotch while kissing his cheek.

Danny hissed and slapped Sam’s hand away. “Too much too soon.”

“Never too much,” Sam replied, sneaking in another kiss, holding Danny close. “Never too soon.”

“Ugh.” You got to your feet, too. “Too much sappy romance for me.”

Sam cackled and grabbed your hand. “No, don’t leave. The night can’t end like this.”

“Yeah, we all at least need a few shots or a bowl or something,” Danny agreed with a sigh, running his fingers through his hair. “And a shower. Definitely a shower.”

“I get to go first,” Sam announced, breaking free and jetting out of the room, leaving you with a final image of his reddened ass, all thanks to Danny. 

So then it was just you and Danny standing in the middle of the bedroom where so many unexpected, wild and beautiful things had happened. You looked at the chair that you’d been sitting in, so unassuming, then to the disheveled bed, and Danny put one arm around your shoulders.

“Thanks for doing this, Y/N,” he said. “Sam still talks about you all the time. He really cares about you. I think he respects you a lot, too.”

“I’ll always care about him,” you told Danny. His touch was as comforting as your clothes, weirdly enough. You were starting to understand more and more why Sam was so smitten with him. “I care about you too, Danny.”

From the hallway, Sam shouted, “Do you care enough about me to let my boyfriend get in the shower with me?” 

Danny rolled his eyes while you laughed. “Okay, big guy,” you said, steering him out of the room. “You get in there while I get the drinks.”

---

Tagging no one (RIP my old fandom). If you'd like to be tagged in my fics, you can go HERE or DM me!

[imagineitdearies]

~ A Flawed Eternity ~

(AKA drabbles set in the Perfect Slaughter universe.)

In which Astarion and Halsin discuss intimacy.

~

Astarion was getting frustrated with himself. 

In the midst of one of the most heated embraces they’d had in a long while, his body pressed down over Tyrus’s lean frame on an actual bed, his hand entangled in those soft, snow-white locks, his erection rubbing against the seam of Tyrus’s thigh and groin—in the midst of heaven, Astarion’s thoughts dragged him back into hell. 

It was something so simple. Just Tyrus’s hands, already gripping his back and hip, squeezing a bit tighter. And then Astarion’s mind suddenly decided to translate the enthusiasm into obligation. 

All at once he felt used, dirty. Out of control. 

Objectively, he knew Tyrus expected nothing. Astarion was the one who had the inconvenient drive for sex, the one whose body quite physically yearned to touch and be touched like this by Tyrus with such a force he pushed himself into discomfort. But that knowledge didn’t stop the unsettling feeling chilling his spine now as he felt the grip pulling him closer. Like he’d once again become nothing more than a thing to be used.

Was he not allowed this anymore? Astarion silently lamented whilst kissing Tyrus harder in defiance. Did he not deserve both freedom and pleasure? Was this the gods’ petty punishment, some final penance for his supposed wrongs?

Fuck that, Astarion inwardly growled, and didn’t think further before he reached down, grabbed the grasping hand at his hip, and pinned it above Tyrus’s head.

Tyrus broke from their kiss, staring up at him with wide eyes as they both caught their breath. Clearly confused—though not frightened yet, at least.

Astarion let go of his wrist before that could change. Then pulled back entirely and faced slightly away from his partner, swallowing down a small portion of guilt. He hated being restrained, even for a moment, and Tyrus surely carried a similar sentiment. 

“A bad memory?” Tyrus said softly, as they had taken to asking each other.

If only it were that simple. 

“Let’s trance,” Astarion sighed. Throwing Tyrus a tired smirk, before nodding at their surroundings, “Who knows how long we’ll be invited back into this cozy little inn, after all.” Half-grateful, half-bitter when Tyrus didn’t press him further about the reaction, just held his hand with a bit more carefulness than usual as they tried to rest.

The following dusk he headed to the lapping river shore early, using the cloak in hopes to get a moment alone before Halsin showed up and they had another of their ‘talks’ prior to the night’s quests.

But Halsin was already there, to Astarion’s annoyance, trying and failing to skip stones whilst humming a tune under his breath.

“Waiting all day for me, darling?” Astarion teased as he approached, trying to shrug off his annoyance. “Good thing Cynda doesn’t seem the jealous type.”

Halsin turned and smiled at him. “Not at all. She has a voracious appetite herself,” he replied—and then let out a low chuckle at Astarion’s grimace.

The half-drow girl had somehow wormed her way into his affections with the same speed Tyrus once had, if in a sisterly way. While objectively he would support such a thing, Astarion felt how he imagined Tyrus would at the implication of her sexual exploits. And maybe a tad jealous, too, of how easy Halsin and Cynda’s affections seemed to be.

“Well, you two can make up for Tyrus and I, then,” he huffed, waving a dismissive hand before looking out at the vivid sunset.

“You seem bothered lately, every time you mention your relationship with him,” Halsin mused. “Why is that?”

Astarion felt his hackles raise, along with another flash of guilt. “Bothered? He is—we are—our relationship is the only good I hold claim to,” he sputtered. “It’s the reason we’re all free, alive—he’s wonderful, perfect, deserving of whatever he—” Astarion cut himself off when he realized Halsin wasn’t trying to argue. He let out a slow breath and finished, “If I’m bothered, it has nothing to do with him.”

Halsin slowly nodded. “Understood.” 

There was a minute of silence, the large elf managing a single skip from one of his four next stones before Astarion felt the urge to explain further. Half to defend Tyrus still—but also because, after the last few tendays, he’d found with some begrudgement it was helpful to get things off his chest. Allow them to be spoken, examined by an outsider, validated or questioned so he could articulate what he was feeling to himself.

“I told you we haven’t had sex since our freedom,” Astarion started eventually. “And I suppose that is beginning to bother me.”

Halsin paused mid-way through throwing a stone, raising a brow. “Have you talked more about it together?”

Astarion grimaced but nodded. “A little. He likes it but doesn’t need it—his sister must have stolen all his ‘voraciousness,’ I suppose, I didn’t think for years he’d even want to try it. But it’s me, who really wants to and keeps . . . stopping us. I did it again earlier today, before our trance.”

He paused, waiting for one of Halsin’s insightful questions or interjections, but the elf stayed silent. Just held out a smooth, flat stone for Astarion to take.

Astarion huffed but did, rolling the rock around again and again in his hands. The older elf at least knew how to pick the right ones for skipping, even if his execution was dastardly. 

Slowly, Astarion forced out the words, “I don’t want him to think about me in terms of sex. I don’t think I want anyone to . . . and I know of all people, Tyrus doesn’t want me for that, but every time we get more intimate the prospect of the act itself clouds my reasoning. I feel used, like my body is being exploited, even though I know rationally otherwise. I was the one who initiated it!” he finished with a bitter laugh. 

Halsin hummed. “Do you feel the same when you masturbate?”

Astarion felt his insides jolt in fear, for some reason. “I lived as a sex slave for nearly a century,” he growled, barely resisting the temptation to throw the rock in his hands at Halsin instead. “Why in the Hells would I be doing that?”

“Self-pleasure can be a very healing thing,” the elf replied in that sage, even tone of his, unbothered by Astarion’s blunt words or scathing tone. It made Astarion wonder a lot of things about the elf’s background.

“I don’t—” Astarion sputtered, then recovered, “There’s nothing about sex that feels like pleasure anymore. Not unless it’s with him.”

Silently, he questioned his own words. Nothing about the sexual acts he performed for and with his victims for Cazador had given him any sort of pleasure, after the first few years of doing it. Hells, even kissing felt like a burden until it was with Tyrus. But seeking pleasure alone?

Cazador had found him the last time he tried, Astarion remembered with a sudden nausea. Which explained his initial fear at Halsin’s question. It was a hazy, old memory his mind clearly didn’t want to hold onto—but in investigating the pieces of it that remained, the bastard’s words came through much too clear: “I always knew you were a slut, boy, but a deviant too? If you’re so desperate for it, then . . .”

“Astarion?”

He blinked, realizing he had been staring ahead at nothing, white-knuckling the stone. “I don’t think it would be any fun, for me,” he recovered in a hoarse voice, trying and failing to smile.

Halsin didn’t respond right away. The older elf spent a minute looking around for more stones to throw, leaving Astarion to recover from the harrowing memory in silence. 

Finally, once he’d gathered a handful, Halsin nodded at Astarion and said, “You might be right—especially at first. But there’s a lot of things you two have and do, that you’ve said used to be triggering or considered impossible. Perhaps this is another thing you might . . . reclaim, in a sense.” When Astarion just frowned, the elf added, “And it might help you feel more comfortable with your body in the future, if you want to try engaging in sex with Tyrus again.”

Sex with Tyrus. Truly, Astarion had gone too long without it. Just the words brought up a dozen delicious memories—the dual sensation of Tyrus kissing at his neck and kneading hands into his ass, the little whimpers that left Tyrus’s parted lips when Astarion gave him pleasure, the warm tightness of him encompassing Astarion’s cock, that last time—and Astarion had to look away, glad he couldn’t blush and that Halsin would have no way of knowing his cock had just twitched in his trousers.

Back when Cazador caught him, Astarion had just been trying to self-soothe and give himself one small good thing in the midst of hell. When he and Tyrus were intimate, it felt like a way of giving each other comfort or providing distraction from their terrible reality. Even a method of cleansing himself of what he did on other nights without Tyrus.

But now? He was simply desperate, just like Cazador used to goad him about. 

The smallest look, word, or action could have been used against him—pointed to as signs of interest, framed as evidence to why he’d asked for whatever torture happened next. Nine years ago, just failing to hide his benign interest in the drow had earned them one of Astarion’s worst punishments to date.

His desire, perceived or real, had always been used and weaponized against him. 

Maybe that was what made it still feel like a dirty, dangerous thing now.

Astarion distracted himself from all the painful realizations with an insult: “You really have no idea what you’re doing, do you?” he huffed, watching another of Halsin’s stones plunk into the water.

Halsin chuckled. “Ganyl’s given me pointers, but I wouldn’t mind a few more.”

Technically, Astarion had only tried out this pastime once on a slower night in Rivington—but his accuracy had yet to fail him in most things. “Step aside, darling,” Astarion smirked, lifting the rock and getting into position.

He threw it with unerring form. Astarion’s smirk broke into a true smile as they watched it skip along the surface of the calm waters, something close to four dozen times before the stone sank just a few meters off from the opposite shore.

Halsin made a low whistle, shaking his head. “I’ll keep practicing,” he said around a hearty laugh.

Astarion gave one more smirk before dusting his hands off his trousers, turning to go.

But the older elf was never one to leave him without some call to action, in the six times they’d met thus far. “Will you consider the idea?” Halsin asked behind him. When Astarion paused, glancing over his shoulder, he continued, “It doesn’t have to be a specific act, or with an end goal in mind, you see. Self-pleasure can mean a lot of things.”

Like what? Astarion wanted to ask. But he had a bit too much pride still, to admit to just how lacking his knowledge was in this area. “If I ever get a moment alone with all this ‘infiltrating the Gauntlet of Shar’ talk, perhaps,” he conceded with a huff.

A thrill of both fear and anticipation shot down his spine, however, as Astarion walked away. He knew if he tried to touch himself and keep his mind blank, his thoughts would end up crowded with a thousand terrible memories. But if he could manage to fill his mind with only what he wanted to do—be with Tyrus, at least in his imagination . . .

Then Astarion might look forward to a bit of alone time, soon.

[siriusthoughts]

Meta on Bellatrix's loyalty

I was thinking about how Bellatrix's loyalty and demeanor towards Voldemort are so in contrast with the rest of the Death Eaters and it's such an interesting dynamic group-wise. Death Eaters are essentially a Slytherin group and we can clearly see their members displaying Slytherin qualities, especially in denying their loyalty towards Voldemort after he wasn't the biggest bully on the playground anymore as Sirius had put it, to save themselves from Azkaban.

While Voldemort repeatedly praises those Death Eaters who remained loyal to him, he doesn't really show any difference in treatment (or at least we as the readers don't see it) besides breaking them out of Azkaban and talking about how they will be "honoured beyond their dreams". The thing is though, his actions speak otherwise.

Riddle is a Slytherin first and foremost and in the end, he seems to appreciate what others can offer him more than acts of loyalty for loyalty's sake. I think Snape's taunting of Bellatrix in HBP where he referred to her Azkaban stay as s "gesture (was) undoubtly fine" and commented how she couldn't offer much else but memories of Azkaban and how Voldemort came to appreciate Snape remaining close to Dumbledore, is very on point with how Voldemort might think. In the same way, Lucius' wealth and status are convenient to him and he even puts him in charge of the Department of Mysteries operation. Overall, not only we don't see the Death Eaters who got away after the first war punished, but we also don't see them treated much differently than the loyal ones besides a few reprimanding words in GoF. I imagine this would cause tension and resentment within the group but in the end everyone will bow down to Voldemort anyway.

Bellatrix, however, stands out even among those loyal Death Eaters. I don't think it's because she's necessarily that much more loyal than others who also didn't denounce Voldemort at their trials but because of her demeanor. In all her interactions with Voldemort there's just so much feeling, she leans closer when talking to him, blushes and sheds tears of joy when he praises her and is overall incredibly passionate about him and his cause. She would die for him and considers it an honor to be able to offer a son into his services even if it means the son would die. And while I do believe Voldemort cares for her in his own way and appreciates her qualities, he also doesn't even remotely match her devotion. It's obviously not meant to be an equal relationship in any way, but the way he doesn't hesitate to publicly humiliate her in DH with Tonks and Lupin's wedding and lets the other Death Eaters laugh at her, makes it seem almost as if he doesn't really value her that much compared to for example Snape, who he treats with much more respect. (He does save her in the Department of Mysteries, but she's the only Death eater in the near vicinity he can conveniently grab and disappear without having to go through Dumbledore.)

I've always found it interesting how misplaced, mocked and misunderstood Bellatrix's sentiment, feeling and loyalty are among the Death Eaters. We do see other Death Eaters worshipping Voldemort of course, but Bellatrix seems to be only one to do so out of genuine affection. I think canon supports the fact that Voldemort approaches feelings on a very cognitive level and is able to then use that knowledge to manipulate others but deep down he doesn't seem to truly get it. I think he understands and relates himself to Snape much more than he ever does with Bellatrix and thus respects him more. Of course, in the end he finds out he didn't really get him either.

My point is that while Bellatrix on paper is a perfect Death Eater, she's actually a bit of an outlier in the group with a few very non-Slytherin-like qualities that clash with how transactionally Voldemort approaches relationships.

(and don't get me started on the parallels between her and Sirius)

[your-phantomfield]

TSUBAKI = YAYOI

i .. ii .. iii circa 2198 for @nkn0va

Dating Tsubaki Yayoi...

I.

Tsubaki grew up sheltered and incredibly lonely; an only child in a house that should have been full with her siblings, a cloistered princess in the garden of a radically conservative family. Even as she grew, her status and conviction pushed many away, leaving her with precious few friends.

All of this is to say, Tsubaki has so, so much love to give, and desperately wants to connect with someone. As a lover, her heart is tremendous.

From the moment you start dating, Tsubaki approaches your relationship as a lifelong partnership. Even if you two were to ever break up, you’d have to do something truly terrible to ever lose her as a friend. Once she loves you, she’ll love you all her life.

II.

She’s actually very shy.  She might initiate a little teasing, and she’s constantly admiring you, so compliments are given freely and often- but touch is complicated for her.  Hand holding, hugging, kissing, cuddling, that’s just not the way she was raised.  The Yayois don’t really hug.

This isn’t to say that she doesn’t enjoy physical affection- honestly, it’s one of the fastest ways to break her composure. She gets flustered quickly.

It’s just that unless you’re into a real slowburn, you’ll have to be the one to initiate most of what we’d consider ‘normal’ relationship activities.  Do go for it, though.  She is so touch starved.  Pet her head and watch her stutter.  Hug her, especially from behind, and catch the exact moment her heart stops completely.

Maybe go a little easy on her, though.  Everything she knows about romance comes from the historical dramas she loves to watch, or poets like Natsume Soseki, infamous for arguing that saying “I love you” directly was much too forward for Japanese sensibilities.  Her media consumption (and the daydreaming it’s inspired) has left her with a kind of 'storybook' idea of how these things work.

III.

Tsubaki does instigate affection- just, in her own way. She approaches those she loves gently. Where another lover might go for a hug or kiss, Tsubaki expresses the same sentiments by brushing dust off your shoulder, adjusting your clothes- or your hair, if she’s feeling incredibly intimate.

Her desire to be near you is expressed by taking care of you. She loves how you look, and she wants everyone to see you as she does, so she encourages you to look your best. If she could wash your hair or your back, that would be the most romantic thing in the world to her.

Her default as a caretaker can lean a little into her starting to nag you, though. Even if you’re in public, if you end up with some food on your face, she’s going to try to wipe it off. She’ll be horribly embarrassed once she realizes what she’s done, and she will apologize- but is she really that sorry? She can't help herself. She thinks you’re cute and she loves to be needed.

IV.

Tsubaki sees a relationship as a partnership. She sees so much good in you, and so much potential for even more amazing things. As far as she’s concerned, you could move mountains if you wanted to. So she wants to do everything in her power to make sure you’re living as your best self- and she really appreciates it if you can offer her the same push.

As mentioned above, this can manifest in some arguably annoying ways; she’s always reminding you to sit up straight, to speak clearly, to apologize less, not to procrastinate, etc.

On the more positive side of things, you will never meet someone more genuinely invested in your life. Tsubaki remembers every interest you share with her, and asks about them often. She wants to know what you did during the day, what you plan to do during the week. Even for hobbies she doesn’t understand, she’ll do her best to learn the lingo and keep an eye out for any events you might be interested in. Any project you’re working on, no matter how trivial you may consider it, she’ll be genuinely excited to see how it goes.

There's a bit of a cute double standard here, actually. Even though she thinks its obvious that she'd be interested in your hobbies, she finds it hard to believe that you would be interested in hers. Even the confident Tsubaki can get a little anxious sometimes. If you offer her some of that same investment and encouragement, she thinks you're some kind of saint.

V.

Speaking of her hobbies. Did you know she loves to paint? She may want to keep this to herself for some time, assuming you wouldn’t be interested in her silly little hobby, but she will eventually set out to paint something specifically for you. Something heartfelt, something connected to good memories. Maybe a landscape of a place you’ve gone on a date, or just somewhere special to you.

More than anything else, she’d love to paint you. She spends a lot of time admiring you and thinking about how she’d do it; where she’d start, what colors to use or mix, what background would suit you the best.

Of course, this can be a difficult ask. I don’t know if you’ve ever been on display like that, but the mutual awareness of the fact that she’s staring at you, taking in every detail, for so long, can be a vulnerable thing for both parties involved. And even then, she’d feel so bad for asking you to stay still, probably bored out of your mind, for the hours it would take to give your portrait the consideration it deserves.

When she does finally paint you, it’s the most romantic date she could ever dream of- and though she probably won't ever tell you, she has been dreaming of it.

She’ll chat with you quietly, teasing a bit if you seem embarrassed. Despite all her worrying before the event, she’s in her element here. You look amazing, and she knows that, so it’s adorable (and quite funny) to see you unsure of such an obvious truth.

VI.

Tsubaki has always imagined a certain path for her future. She would fall in love. Get married. Have children. Raise another generation to do good in the world, and never be lonely again.

Meeting you only strengthened that image. Now there was a face to imagine at the altar. Someone's taste to consider as she fine tuned the wedding in her head. Whether or not you and Tsubaki could have children together in our time, by the BlazBlue era there are numerous magical aids for family planning, and she often wonders about what kind of parent you'll be.

This is something she's always wanted.  This is something she's looked forward to.  Something she's proud she can promise you.  A bright future.

VII.

Of course, her status as a member of the Yayoi family presents some difficulties.  Dating any member of the Duodecim means entering into a life of court politics and all the manipulation and animosity that entails, even if you’re already coming from a high status family.  This is the top of the top.  And if you aren’t coming from a high status family, there are questions about your suitability at every turn.

And then there’s the main issue for a Yayoi. Tsubaki’s father still firmly believes in their family’s tradition, the Yayoi family’s pride; the Yayoi family are excellent with Ars Magus. They marry specifically to ensure that the next generation is just as exceptional as the last.

Raised in this mentality from her birth, Tsubaki does believe in her family traditions wholeheartedly. Her interpretation of things are shockingly innocent, though. She sees you in the best possible light all the time. Anything you enjoy, anything you’re skilled in, she sees as an exceptional talent. Who could be more worthy of the family name than you? Any hobbies you have related to physical activity prove your health and strength, any mental or artistic hobbies prove your genius.

Regardless of your skill in Ars Magus, in the absolute worst case scenario where her father is… hesitant, to accept you, she is willing to argue him on this one thing. The NOL themselves have asked that the Yayois loosen up on their marriage criteria over the past few generations, and it’s obvious to her that you are an incredible match who would honor the Yayoi legacy. She just needs to explain it to her father. She’s positive he will understand.

VIII.

Most of these are set in the year 2198, before Calamity Trigger.  But let's take a moment to jump ahead one year.  To 2199.  The year she received the hardest mission of her life.  The year she picked up the Izayoi.

The moment the weight of the Izayoi settles into her hands for the first time, that bright future she longs to share with you becomes clouded.

She goes to see you before she heads for home to retrieve the Izayoi. Before she starts her mission.

One last careless, happy day together before she'll have blood on her hands. Before the nightmares of a confidential mission she'll never be allowed to tell you about. One last look at your perfect, smiling face before she may never be able to see it again.

[yukidragon]

Hey yuki what would happen if Mc had intrusive daydream of jack losing his patience with them

(This ask is based on that one fancomic where jack loses his patience and yells 😭 and I want your insight on it also I can’t remember the name of the comic or the artist I’m sure I can find it if I googled it lol)

Is this the comic you’re referring to? If so, it was drawn by my friend Meta over on twitter. There’s also a video version of it, voiced by Jack’s official VA, NaughtyMaus, which is an extra punch to the heart. I actually linked to it before in a previous post where I considered what might happen if MC made Jack angry. It’s quite the heartbreaking comic...

Now... this being a fear of MC’s and not something that actually happened, that’s a little different to consider than my previous post. Heck, I think a lot of us who saw the comic, and especially the video, couldn’t help but think of how they would feel/react if Jack snapped at them like this. I know I considered it too and how Alice might handle it. However, I just couldn’t see her ever pushing him to his breaking point, so I couldn’t figure out how she would react in that situation without knowing what might have brought them to this point. The lead up to the breakdown is important to figure out where the characters go from there after all.

I think it’s possible that this is a real fear of MC’s, if not to this extent then just the general sentiment of Jack eventually just being fed up with them. They don’t feel like they deserve to be cared for the way Jack does, which I think was influenced by the way their relationship with Ian fell apart. Being cheated on can leave a lot of scars, including feelings of inferiority and like that one day their partner will just... get tired of them.

With Jack having his ability to read his sunshine’s thoughts, I imagine there’s a very real chance of him picking up on this intrusive daydream sooner or later. It would no doubt be a shock to him that they would even think he would yell and swear at them like that, especially if their relationship is going well.

It’s not exactly a fun thing notice, I’d imagine. Seeing an image of yourself being so angry with the one you love and knowing that they’re having these thoughts of you...

It would be something that Jack would need to take some time to think about how to broach the topic. Given how MC tends to internalize their negative feelings and is reluctant to lean on anyone, most likely he’ll be the one to approach them first in this case.

Now... I doubt Jack is going to admit he can read MC’s mind, not without a very good reason to do so. How he would approach it would be delicate, and the way he approaches it would likely be affected by how well they get along. If they have disagreements and those are the reason for the intrusive thoughts, then he might want to talk about how they can make things work between them more smoothly and cut off arguments before they begin.

Jack cares about MC. He’s their best friend, and he wants them to be happy. He wants what’s best for them, and that means talking through issues before they grow so big that it causes real harm to either of them. Lessons he learned about conflict resolution in his psychology classes and relevant episode he acted in would help him out in this conversation.

An MC who is more on the “no” route, let’s say, would worry Jack a lot more in this situation. They’re pulling away from him and having these awful thoughts about him. Maybe the reason why they don’t trust him is because they assume he would snap at them like this? If that’s the case then he has to be even more gentle with them, convince them that he will never yell at them like that or make them sad. He just wants to see them smile...

Though these thoughts would be pretty harsh even with a “yes” route MC. The tactic would switch a bit, and he would ask if he ever said or did anything to make them uncomfortable. MC in this case would most likely insist no and be confused why he would even ask... guiltily thinking of those intrusive daydreams.

To avoid outing himself, Jack might act casual about it, saying he just wanted to be sure. Maybe it’s silly, but sometimes he can’t help but worry about things even if they don’t make sense. He knows he’s pretty big and can be kind of intimidating... and the last thing he wants is to ever do anything to upset MC.

From there the conversation would turn to one about intrusive thoughts and how everyone gets them sometimes. When that happens, it’s best not to bottle them up inside, but to share them with someone who loves you, who you can trust not to judge or think badly about you. They can help you figure out where these worries might be coming from and how to make them feel less like a real possibility. Jack trusts MC and loves them so much, so he knew he could talk to them about what’s bothering him.

MC knows they can talk with Jack about anything that’s bothering them too, right? He’s here for them, no matter what.

I imagine Jack could gently coax a lot of MCs into telling him about the intrusive daydream out loud, though they’ll probably downplay the severity of it. Jack would listen patiently until he guided them into confessing at least the broad strokes of the daydream, now a little freer on what he can say to address the problem.

The first thing is to make sure MC isn’t feeling ashamed for having these intrusive thoughts, and I think Jack would say he’s proud of them for telling him. It takes a lot of courage to talk about our fears like this with anyone. Everyone has intrusive thoughts from time to time, but what’s important is to remind ourselves that they’re just thoughts. They don’t have to be reality.

The conversation of course would have a lot of gentle, comforting touches. Jack’s primary love language does seem to be physical touch. It would be reassurance for both MC and himself. With words and actions he wants to make sure MC knows he loves them so much and that they can trust him with even these dark thoughts. He wants to help them in any way he can, and these thoughts are painful for both of them.

Jack would no doubt try to help guide MC through the reasons why these intrusive thoughts might have started, what sparked their fears in the first place. If it’s due to past relationships, then he would want to talk about that and remind them that other people can be cruel sometimes. It’s why he worries about them sometimes. He won’t just snap at MC like that though, especially not for no reason, he promises.

What they have is special. What they have is love, real love. Jack won’t hurt MC like that... and he trusts they won’t hurt him like that either. I can see most MCs immediately insisting that they won’t at the idea that they might snap at Jack and hurt him like their daydream hurt them.

In any case, there would be discussion about conflict resolution, most likely. Jack would no doubt know ways of de-escalating conflicts and give MC tips on what to do if things get heated between them. Take a step back, count to ten before talking, keep the scale of the disagreement in mind, and remember that they both have each other’s best interests at heart. No matter how mad they might get in the moment, they need to remember just how much they mean to each other... how much they love each other.

Once the conversation is settled, Jack would likely ask if MC feels better, and it probably would help them feel better. After that, the best thing to do is to suggest they do something fun together... maybe have some cuddle time... which of course leads to Jack showing MC just how much he loves them.

Of course the resolution would be more complicated on the more “no” extreme. I don’t know if it could be settled in a way that fully puts either of their fears to rest in a scenario where MC is pulling away from Jack and not really trusting him.

In any situation, knowing MC has these thoughts would no doubt worry Jack. In a situation where they don’t trust him, those worries would be even bigger... to the point that he would probably fear that someday it could wind up being reality...

Jack can’t let that happen. He has to find a way to earn their trust and be what they want him to be. He needs to give MC whatever they want and need. It’s what he’s there for after all...

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur

[project1939]

200 Films of 1952

Film number 161: Breaking the Sound Barrier (aka, The Sound Barrier)

Release date: Dec 6th, 1952 

Studio: London Film Productions/British Lion Films 

Genre: drama 

Director: David Lean 

Producer: David Lean 

Actors: Ralph Richardson, Ann Todd, Nigel Patrick, John Justin 

Plot Summary: J.R., a wealthy British airplane manufacturer, helped design a jet engine that makes breaking the sound barrier possible. A brilliant test pilot is chosen for the first flight, but he is also J.R.’s son-in-law. J.R.’s daughter Sue is frantic with worry over her husband’s safety, and she cannot understand why his life must be put into such danger. 

My Rating (out of five stars): ***¾  

This is an early David Lean film made just a few years before he became a superstar with The Bridge on the River Kwai, Lawrence of Arabia, and Doctor Zhivago. This is a much smaller and simpler film than those, and if you hadn’t told me Lean directed this, I don’t think I would have guessed. Overall, this was enjoyable, and it definitely had its thrilling moments, but my main problem with it was the balance between the thrilling moments in the air and the family drama on the ground. (some spoilers!)

The Good: 

Ralph Richardson as John/J.R. His performance was very moving. For the first ¾ of the film, it was easy to believe he was just a cold unemotional man with a laser focus on work. As the plot unfolds, it slowly becomes apparent that it is absolutely not the truth. The script lays most of the burden to communicate this on Richardson, and he runs with it. 

Ann Todd as Sue. I immediately liked her- she wore very little makeup throughout, she had a wit about her, she was pretty in a fresh appealing way, and she didn’t completely succumb to the “Hollywood Good Wife Syndrome.” She caught a case of it, for sure, but thankfully it wasn’t deadly.  

Nigel Patrick as Tony, Sue’s test pilot husband. He was dashing, charming, and very likeable. 

The highlight of the movie was all the exciting flying scenes. There were several of them, and most were either real or highly convincing. They were edited and paced well to draw you in and keep your eyes glued to the screen. 

There were lots of real locations used and actual flying footage. It didn’t feel like a soundstage film. 

The orchestra in the background was fantastic. I enjoyed the score as well, but the orchestra itself sounded so beautiful I had to remind myself a couple of times to actually watch the movie and not just listen to it. 

The emotional complexity of J.R. As I mentioned when I discussed Richardson, I think the actual heart of the movie is this story arc. Because of Richardson’s performance and the delicate way it was written and shot, it was very affecting. 

The traumatic plot twist about 1 hour and 20 minutes in. I did NOT see it coming, and when it did, I kept writing “No! No! No!” in my notes. It was a very brave choice to make at that particular time within the film. In most films an event of this kind would either happen near the beginning or near the end. There was still 35 minutes of runtime in this. I give that plus marks for the uniqueness and audacity, and I think it ultimately made the film more powerful. 

I liked the relationship that developed between J.R. and Tony, his son-in-law. The way they became close tugged at my heart-stings, and yet the film never really veered toward the sentimental.

The Bad: 

Erasing Chuck Yeager from history! Now, I am no aviation expert, but even going into this film, I could have told you that American Chuck Yeager was actually the first person to break the sound barrier. How did I know that? From a movie, of course! 1983’s The Right Stuff! 

The film had a difficult time explaining why breaking the sound barrier was important. It seemed very hesitant to talk about the Soviets or Communism, or anything to do with the military. That was frustrating, especially when Sue was desperately trying to understand it herself. 

This movie was a mixture of a family drama and an adventure/thriller, and it didn’t work as well as it could have. The balance between the two was off for me- I think too much time was spent on family stuff, and not enough on the actual flying. I appreciated that it didn’t just half-heartedly cram in a little bit of family stuff, which is what most adventure films do, but it may have swung too far to the other side. 

Wow, the movie certainly believed baby boys were better than baby girls! It was deemed hugely important that Sue give birth to a boy.  

Women in the film were minimized in other ways- all of them were housewives who worried while the men went off to do important manly things. HOWEVER, this film gets a lot of points for making characters like Sue and Jess fairly well rounded. Neither of those women were just sweet little pushovers. Sue also appeared to have been in the Service at some point.

Oh god, more East Asian racism! It’s thankfully been quite awhile since this kind of “humor” has reared its disgusting head in my 1952 watchlist, but this was one of those horrible “Chinaman” jokes told for “comedic relief.” The less said, the better. 

There was a pretty clunky scene that used Sue as a conduit for the probable aeronautic ignorance of the audience. It briefly became an educational film that spelled things out like a mini-lecture on what the sound barrier actually was, the requirements for breaking it, and the dangers of doing so. It was helpful for me to have some things explicitly explained, but as a scene it felt awkward and contrived. It also seemed dubious that Sue would've been totally ignorant of this.

[remyfire]

Okay, so, lot of thoughts about the BJ vs Trapper thing. First, you were absolutely correct, I am a Trapper girlie deep down, but BJ stole my heart within only a few minutes. Trap might just barely win as my favorite, but I think it's because watching those first three seasons made me fall fully in love with the show. So if he is my favorite, it's more sentimentality reasons rather than being a better character or partner to Hawkeye, you know?

While watching both Preventative Medicine and Period of Adjustment, I did realize that BJ and Hawkeye butt heads more often than Trap and Hawk. The show made that very clear to see. But that being said, I don't think it's a bad thing. Trap was definitely more of an enabler, and I think sometimes Hawkeye does need someone to bring him back down to earth. Trapper was also much more pessimistic than BJ seems to be, and I think it's good for Hawkeye to have someone to help pull him out of his spirals a little easier when he starts to get too deep. Again, not that Trap was unable to do that, but I think BJ has a slightly more positive view on things than Trapper did. But at the same time, having someone with that easy friendship where you can think the same thing without even speaking like Trapper and Hawkeye had can be so nice. They were often so in sync with each other, and I think having someone feel and think the same way also helped Hawkeye feel less alone over in Korea.

Regarding both of them knocking Hawkeye away, I think a bit of a disservice was done to BJ by making his episode and moment a bit heavier than Trapper's. When Trap whacked Hawkeye with that bag, it was played much more as a joke. When BJ blew up, it fell more on the drama side of the show. So regardless of my personal feelings, I do think both of these scenes would be seen very differently if they were both played in the same tone. As it stands, having BJ's lean away from the comedy made it feel much more charged than Trapper's, even if the overall situation is the same for both of them.

Personally, this doesn't take away any of my love for BJ. It gives him nuance and depth. We hear him talk about missing his family, but this is the first time we really *see* it have an effect on him. And while I do wish he would have directly apologized to Hawkeye, I think that was an extra layer of his emotional onion that he was just not able to peel back at that time. Even though he didn't say the words, I think he showed his remorse by opening up to Hawkeye, going to him for comfort, helping him rebuild the still. I still think Hawkeye deserves a real apology for being hurt like that, but I think he also knows that BJ feels bad and didn't truly mean to hurt him. That being said, I think he also deserves an apology from Trapper, but Hawk and Trap's relationship was always a bit less explicitly emotional than BJ and Hawkeye's has been.

Also, this may all be sentimentality speaking. There are two scenes I remember the exact wording of from when I watched this show as a kid so many years ago, and one of them is "You know what I did today? I hit the best friend I ever had." And even the first time I saw that, even without knowing their full backstory, that line spoke to me so much that I've remembered it all these years. I remembered the pain in BJ's voice when he said it, the tears in his eyes, the way he looked at Hawkeye when he spoke. To me, it showed the depth of their friendship, even without the several seasons of backstory. It told me that BJ cared, and he felt remorse, and also had a kind of love for Hawkeye that I only hoped people could have for me. Like I said, it may be sentimentality speaking, but I think that was a hugely powerful scene.

All this to say: I don't think it affects my love or BJ or him and Hawkeye as a ship. It's definitely a tough episode to watch, and I think it's also a hurdle they might have to work a little to get past, but personally it made no difference for me in my enjoyment of his character. All it did for me was add more depth to BJ, show me his experiences of the horrors of war, and make him more of an interesting character. And thank you for posing such a question! It was definitely in line with the hints of a thought I had on my own after watching this episode, and it was very fun to delve deeper in and really analyze what I thought and why I thought that. And of course I could probably go on further, because I clearly love talking about these boys. But thank you for the question and thank you for sharing your thoughts too!

Hi anon, you said all of this so articulately that I am honestly struggling to come up with an in-depth response because I am just sitting here chin-handsing and thinking about all three of our boys with very, very large emotions. You and I really do seem to be like-minded regarding quite a bit about how we absorbed these experiences and let them coalesce into the wider narrative and relationships therein.

So instead I'm just going to think about how after the war, what this means is that all three of them are going to [I am hooked and removed from the stage]

[zunmbi-blog]

One Step at a Time: A Personal Journey Through Agoraphobia

What happens when your heart longs to love, but your mind keeps you locked inside? Agoraphobia doesn’t just confine you to your home—it can lock your heart in a cage of isolation as well. For years, I struggled with this condition, but perhaps the most difficult part wasn’t just the physical boundaries of my home; it was how these walls impacted my relationship with the person I loved.

There’s a guy I really like—let's call him моя любовь—and he’s truly a kind, sweet, and caring person. My heart longs to be close to him, but the reality is, I can’t tell him how I feel. I know he doesn’t feel the same way. In fact, I don’t even think he would want to go through the emotional labor of being in a relationship with someone who battles agoraphobia. There’s a phrase people often say: “If he wanted to, he would.” I understand the sentiment, but I still can’t help but feel torn.

I talk to him about how I feel sometimes, and in return, he opens up to me as well, but then we go long stretches of time without communicating. He’s a very busy person, and I’m not. I often find myself questioning if I’ve done something wrong, if he’s ignoring me because I’ve messed up somehow. This uncertainty makes me anxious, and the last thing I want is for him to think that I’m simply insecure or needy. The truth is, I want to show him the best parts of myself—the side that isn’t consumed by anxiety, the side that’s capable of love and affection.

But here’s the thing: моя любовь is very social. He enjoys being around people, sometimes to the point where he dislikes being alone. I envy his ease in navigating the world, surrounded by friends and constantly on the go. This can be incredibly difficult for me, as I often feel like I can’t keep up with his social life. What happens if we end up dating, and моя любовь wants to go for a walk in the park, or take a spontaneous trip to a new place? What if I get stuck? What if I can't go with him because I’m paralyzed by fear?

It’s not that I don’t want to go. It’s not that I don’t want to be “normal.” The truth is, I long to share those moments—the simple joys of walking together, talking, being in the world. But there’s something inside me that stops me from stepping out the door. It’s a feeling that’s hard to explain—this overwhelming, suffocating fear. And that feeling? It’s maddening. It’s frustrating. It makes me feel like a failure. The idea that my agoraphobia could take away the potential for a normal, loving relationship feels like an unbearable weight.

I know that being with someone who has agoraphobia isn’t easy. It’s not about fixing me, and it’s not about expecting him to be my therapist. What I need is patience, understanding, and the freedom to take things at my own pace. I can’t expect anyone to understand every detail of what it feels like to live with this disorder, but I do need them to see the depth of my struggle. I need my partner to understand that agoraphobia isn’t just a “fear of leaving the house” but something that affects every part of my life. It’s a constant companion, one that controls how I think, how I feel, how I act.

At the same time, I don’t want to simply lean on my partner. I want to contribute to the relationship. I want to show that I am not just existing within it, but actively participating in it. Relationships require effort from both sides, and I worry that my condition makes it seem like I’m not putting in the effort that I want to. I don’t want to be a burden. I want to be seen as someone who has something to offer—not just as someone who needs help.

Opening up about agoraphobia is one of the most vulnerable things I can do. It feels like laying my soul bare, offering my raw, unedited self to another person. But in many ways, it’s also the only way to truly connect. When you share your fears, your limitations, your struggles, you are showing the person you love exactly who you are. And that’s the person they’re choosing to love. Sometimes, love isn’t about grand gestures or physical intimacy. Sometimes it’s about the quiet moments: holding hands, sharing a peaceful evening, offering comfort in times of anxiety. Agoraphobia can make those simple moments feel impossible, but when they do happen, they are worth everything.

I want to experience those moments with моя любовь, but sometimes, they feel just out of reach. And I know that part of my fear is not just the physical act of leaving the house, but the emotional weight of knowing that I can’t always participate in the way I want to. I want to be someone who can keep up, someone who can go on walks in the park or take spontaneous trips. But sometimes, I feel trapped—not by the walls of my home, but by my own mind.

It’s easy to feel like love is impossible when you’re constantly battling fear. It’s easy to think that you don’t deserve love when you’re struggling just to leave your front door. But the truth is, love isn’t about perfection. It’s not about showing up in the way you think you should. It’s about showing up at all—no matter how imperfectly, no matter how slowly. Love isn’t about being flawless; it’s about being present, about being patient with each other, about showing up even when it feels hard.

I know that agoraphobia is part of who I am, but it doesn’t define me. And I hope, one day, I can show моя любовь that the person I am—anxieties and all—can be loved just as I am. Because sometimes, love isn’t about being “fixed” or “perfect.” It’s about being seen, understood, and accepted. And that, I believe, is enough.

[bluestsdays]

her breathing slows entirely as his thumb swipes against her cheek, wiping away the tears that linger there. its tenderness leaves her reeling, practically bursting at seams with love and affection, so much so that she’s afraid she might say something stupid out loud, tell him just how much she still loves him, how it’s never gone away for her. instead, she merely listens, the sentiment behind his words leaking into all those cracks created by everyone else who’s disappointed her, tonight. he gives her permission to feel however she wants, to know that it was okay to feel that way, to be upset, that she’s safe here, with him, no matter what. that she’s not a burden, tucked beneath his arms. thinks she could melt beneath his gaze, all that previous pain becoming a little fuzzier, its edges a little less sharp. fuck, what she would give to lean in and kiss him right now, a thought she probably makes obvious with how her gaze falls to his lips, lingering there a little too long before returning to his eyes, absorbing his words, the sincerity laced within, nodding to signal that she heard him. i love you i love you i love you is all that’s running through her brain, and she wants to say it out loud, the words burning a hole in her tongue, but she swallows the smoke and embers, instead pressing herself against him further as he draws soft shapes against her back, her spine sparking with electricity, the skin beneath his fingertips buzzing. her tears dry up long enough for her to let out a soft chuckle— he was the only person who could draw genuine laughter from her at a time like this, who could make any of this feel even slightly okay, again. “ shit, i hope there’s no interest added onto that bill or i’ll be in debt forever, because you’re never getting them back. ” most of them were covered in paint, now, tucked away in a special place only she could find, along with the one she still hasn’t washed, hoping to preserve the smell of him for as long as possible. head lifts, then, to look at him once more, nothing but sheer admiration written all over her features. he made her a priority, tonight, just like he always did. “ you really came all this way for me, hm ? just for me to cry on you, ” she teases, trying to forget, to just focus on this moment with him, before he’s gone. and there’s a million other questions that flood her mind then, wanting to ask if eden knew, if she cared, if they fought, too, if he felt just as alone as she did in a relationship with someone else. now wasn’t the time, though, instead tugging his hand into her own once again, intertwining their fingers together, thumb running along his knuckles. “ i always need you. but i can’t have you for that long, can i ? ” it’s whispered quietly, yet she finds herself shaking her head, then, already knowing the answer to that question. “ just means a lot to me that you’re here, that i’m lucky enough that you still care. think that’s all i really need, anyway. ” just him, admiring her art— it didn’t need any other audience, no pedestal, just his gaze. that was a gift in itself. “ you’re too good to me, too good for me, always have been, ” she whispers, unable to stop her own gaze from falling down to his lips, the desire to kiss him entirely overwhelming. she withholds, though, even if it’s killing her, just to ask something that’s probably just as stupid, but, nonetheless. “ want to walk me home ? promise i won’t cry anymore. ”

his chest tightens as he feels the wetness from her tears seep through his shirt, arms securing around her in a similar way, as he holds her. the embrace is a silent promise of comfort and protection— a bastion against the storm of emotion that's crashing through her, a reminder that he's here, that she isn't alone; not now, not ever. he finds that he wallows in her hurt, too, a quiet anger bubbling in his veins, aimed towards the people in her life that have her feeling like this, so misunderstood, undervalued. and it stings, just to see, that it chases her, even on a night like tonight. a night that should be filled with celebration, merriment. fletcher's carelessness has left a sour taste in his mouth, one that's hard to ignore, the longer he stews on it, as he feels her tremble against him, witness the hunch in her shoulders, the hitch in her breath. hates that she feels the need to apologise for it, for feeling no hurt by it, as if it’s her fault, their neglect, as if she needed to be sorry for it. and he knows now isn’t the time to bring up his dislike for the other, for her parents, making her feel this small, unable to see her art, her, for what she is— beautiful, talented, kind. the type of person he only wishes he could be more like. but his role here, now, is to soothe the ache she faces, not worsen them, which is why he gives her all the time she needs, sitting here quietly with her, so she knows she’s not alone, that she never will be, not with him. when she pulls away, he allows her the space she needs, though the urge to keep her there, shielded from harm’s way, is strong, to never let her go again. his eyes search hers, filled with gentle concern, as she speaks, head shaking as his hand shifts to her cheek, thumb wiping away the tears that have gathered at the flesh there; a touch that speaks volumes of his care, for her. “ you’re not stupid, dev, ” voice isn’t much louder than a whisper. “ you’re not a burden, either. never have been, never will be, okay? ” because he can hear that underlying her words, that she’s asking too much, burdening others, by hoping they’d be here tonight, a sensation he knew all too well. “ he should’ve been here tonight, to support you— it should’ve been a priority, ” it’s quiet, subtle, the venom, disappointment, that’s laced in the undercurrent of those words. find’s difficulty in it, too, talking with her about her current relationship, but he does, will, if that’s what she needs from him, right now. “ your parents, too. i’m sorry they’re not here tonight, either. they should be— i wish they could appreciate how talented you are, ” and as she moves to rest against him once more, he pulls her in closer again, palm of his hand finding her lower back, rubbing small circles against it with his fingertips. “ don’t worry about me, okay? it’s fine, really. i want to be here for you, so if there’s anything i can do, let me know, yeah? you’ve got me, for as long as you need me, ” pauses briefly, unable to resist teasing her, to lighten the mood in the slightest. “ as for my shirt, i’ll add it to your bill, hm? for all my missing ones you owe me, anyway. ”

[lovebandit42069]

Heehee did the fun little ship meme for my main self ship

Had to edit the original since it was for ships that only involve two people (and also to change the bug killing one to bug releasing) and included a transparent version of the edited base for those that may want it!

Ignore the awful grey outline that he preview has, the actual full resolution template doesn't have it idk what tumblr's doing

I'm gonna include a little explanation for everything under a read more for anyone that might be interested! (It's incredibly long so no worries if it's too much for y'all to want to read lmao)

Please do not interact with this post/my blog if you: - Are a minor - Are a proshipper - Self ship romantically with Shou, Hizashi and Nem

General

Genders: I haven't really thought too hard about my headcanon genders for Shou, Hizashi and Nem so I just went with the canon for them. Crash is Canonically Agender.

Sexualities: I'm bisexual so I like to headcanon all of my favs as bi too 🥰

Heights: Pretty straight-forward I think, I like to make most of my S/I's the same height as me and Crash was no exception (why is everyone taller than me fuck my LIFE !!!!!!!!)

Ages: Same as heights, used everyone's up to date canon ages

Sliding Scale Section

Big Spoon - Little Spoon: I feel like Shou and me would share the same sentiment of not really minding either way/switching between the two while Nem is similar but leans more towards being the little spoon and Hizashi is Very Much the little spoon because he's the tallest of the group and I think that'd be funny/cute Lends Clothes - Borrows Clothes: I don't think any of us would necessarily borrow clothes from each other (also Crash is fat and short so I don't think its clothes would fit anyone LMAO) so I just kept everyone in the middle for this one Doesn't Use Pet Names - Uses Pet Names: Uses Pet Names: Bro you KNOW Nem and Hizashi fucking love pet names!! Crash likes pet names but feels like they sound super awkward when it says them but it'll still try. I don't think Shou would never use pet names but is probably a bit more conservative with using them himself. Introverted - Extroverted: Pretty self explanatory if you know the characters, me and Shou being very much introverted while Nem and Hizashi are on the other end of the spectrum being very much extroverted Affection Through Words - Affection Through Actions: Shou and Hizashi have both exhibited actions that lead me to believe they'd canonically show affection with both words and actions. Nem I imagine would be the same way just because I'm being self indulgent lmao. I'm the same way IRL so Crash gets to be too <;3 Confesses First - Waits For Confession: While all four were pining for each other Crash, Hizashi and Shou were the ones that were completely obvlious of everyone else's pining leaving Nem to be the one to finally initiate the relationship (sorry nem lmao) Screams About The Bugs - Releases Bug Outside: Hizashi is canonically entomophobic (afraid of bugs) meanwhile I imagine Shou, Crash and Nem wouldn't be as much. Drives The Car - Can't Drive: We've seen Hizashi drive in canon and while we've seen Shou in cars multiple times he's never once driving (I don't think??) so I like to imagine he doesn't know how/feels like it's not terribly important due to having a good amount of mobility on his own. Crash likes to walk to places it can but learned how to drive for the times when it's gotta go somewhere that isn't walkable/if it's not feeling the idea of walking. Nemuri strikes me as someone that would rather drive than walk somewhere and learned to drive to necessitate that. Can't Cook For Shit - Makes Dinner: We see Shou eating protein jelly packs more than anything else and while that's not indicative of him not being able to cook (he's just being ~rational~) I feel like he's someone that has the barest ability to cook. Crash is the same way fuck cooking lmao. Nem and Hizashi both seem like they'd know how to cook and would be willing to be the one(s) to cook for the group to me personally Dislikes PDA - Loves PDA: Similar to pet names I feel like Hizashi and Nem would absolutely love PDA and Crash would as well but feel a bit awkward about it so it'd struggle a bit to initiate it itself. Shou I feel like wouldn't completely hate it but would definitely not be the one to initiate it first typically. Overprotective - Chill Going: With the nature of the canon universe and just taking everyone's personalities into consideration I feel like we'd all be a bit protective of each other in various ways Has More Relationship Experience - Has NO Relationship Experience: This is heavily headcanon-based but I personally imagine Shou and Hizashi as not really having relationship experience due to mutually pining for each other (and Crash and Nem) and am including Crash in that same boat. Nem for sure strikes me as someone who has a lot of relationship experience though, personally

Levels

Horny Level: Nemuri is self explanatory I feel like LMAO. Crash and Shou I feel would be a little bit lower on the scale and Hizashi just a teensy bit higher. He gives off horny energy I don't know how to explain it

Awkardness Level: Crash and Shou are slightly different types of awkward but still awkward nonetheless (Crash being a bit moreso, feels bad) and Hizashi and Nemuri have never felt awkwardness in their entire lives in my opinion

Jealousy Level: I put everyone at the same halfway level because I can imagine a bit of jealousy happening here and there but I don't really think it'd be present terribly often tbh

Blessing your family and crops if you actually read all this lmao

[kyuuppi]

“You lie to your best friend/crush that you have an OnlyFans just to see their reaction”

Ft. Sugawara; Nishinoya; Tsukishima; Oikawa; Kenma

Pt. 2

A/N: My bias is so obvious here LOL

KARASUNO

↳ Sugawara

➣  You are over at his house, the two of you idly watching a sitcom while browsing your phones and chatting in between; it’s comfortable, as times with Sugawara usually are.

➣  Every time Suga leans in to show you a funny meme on his phone or throws his head back in laughter at a joke from the show, you find your heart skipping a beat.

➣  He is beautiful, basically an angel in your eyes, but he is also your best friend and you don’t think he has any interest in you like that. Not in the way you do. 

➣  That’s how you get the idea to test his feelings. 

➣  Being the troublemaker you are (how else would you and Suga get along so well?) you decide to shake things up by casually mentioning you’re interested in starting an OnlyFans and asking if he thinks its a good idea. 

➣  You expect either of two reactions: either he’ll be as supportive as usual, possibly advising you to be cautious with strangers online like the mother hen he is, proving he only sees you as a friend—or he’ll tell you not to, possible evidence that likes you.

➣  The response you receive is not quite what you were expecting...

➣  Once the words leave your lips his head immediately whips around in your direction, light brown eyes looking at you with a serious expression on his face, something you’d never really seen before. It makes you uncomfortable and you begin to regret all of your life decisions.

➣  Suddenly though, he is leaning into you, his arms coming up to trap you against the couch as you try to back away. Your eyes are as wide as saucers and face completely flushed as he continues to stare you down before speaking.

➣  “Even though I’m your best friend, I’m still a man, you know. You’re being awfully cruel right now.”

➣ You audibly gulp, suddenly feeling light-headed but he keeps speaking, close enough that you can feel his hot breath fan across your cheeks.

➣ “Asking me to watch the person I like show off in front of thousands of other men? Even I have my limits.”

➣ And that marks the day of you and Sugawara’s first kiss. ♡

↳ Nishinoya

➣  Your best friend, Nishinoya Yuu, is notoriously unabashed with his affections. 

➣ The two of you have an interesting relationship—Noya has no qualms with expressing how pretty he thinks you are, borderline flirting with you at times, and you frequently return the favor. 

➣  But you don’t take any of it seriously, of course, regardless of how much you secretly wish it were real. Everyone at Karasuno knows about Noya’s undying dedication to the volleyball club manager, Shimizu Kiyoko, and he confesses his love to her at least twice a day. 

➣ Unbeknownst to you those professions became less and less frequent after he met you and now most of Karasuno thinks the two of you are basically dating

➣ The two of you are at the mall, a frequent hang out place where Noya can look at volleyball gear and you can browse manga at the bookstore, when you get the idea to prank your friend.

➣ “Hey, Noya? I’ve been thinking about finding a way to make more money but I don’t have time for a part-time job so I decided to make an OnlyFans—I already have a few subscribers.”

➣ Nishinoya nearly trips and falls flat on his face. You would have laughed if it weren’t for how he immediately grabs at your shoulders, staring at you with a mix of anger and fear. 

➣ “Absolutely not! No one should be allowed to see your beautiful body like that but me!”

➣ You immediately fluster at his loud declaration, acutely aware of how other customers in the mall are giving the two of your strange looks as they walk by. 

➣ “B-but Noya, we aren’t even dating—”

➣ “Then let’s start dating!” 

➣ And what are you gonna do? Say no?

↳ Tsukishima

➣ Being friends with Tsukishima could be frustrating at times—a sentiment you and Yamaguchi frequently discuss when the blond isn’t around. 

➣ Tsukishima likes to think most things are beneath him and he’s too cool to find enjoyment in activities most other friends enjoy, ranging from mini golf to video games. The man seems content to waste his life away studying and listening to music if it weren’t for you and Yamaguchi forcing him out of his room. 

➣ Naturally, something like a prank war would be something Tsukishima would want no part of—not that that has ever stopped you. 

➣ Usually, your pranks are failures. Either Tsukishima easily figures out what you’re doing before it can happen or he doesn’t give you the satisfaction of a reaction, chastising you for wasting your time pulling pranks when you have a failing grade in mathematics you’ll later beg him to help you study for.

➣ He still helps you though, he’s whipped

➣ Your newest prank however, you feel exceptionally confident in. Not only is it simple to pull off, only relying on your acting kills, but it also might answer your curiosity on whether you have a chance in getting your dearest Tsukki to see you as more than just a friend.

➣ The day you decide to do it the three of you are hanging out in Tsukishima’s bedroom as usual, you working on the math homework Tsukishima forced you to study while he reads a book and Yamaguchi sits in the corner reading a book.

➣ You had already discussed your plans with Yama beforehand, to which his expression looked suspiciously devious, like he knew something you didn’t know, as he proclaimed his support. 

➣ You hear Tsukishima turning a page and decide to speak up. 

➣ “Hey, Tsukki, have you heard of OnlyFans?”

➣ You hold back a snicker as you see Tsukishima visibly tense, his eyes widening behind his glasses for a moment before he relaxes. From the corner of your eyes you can see Yamaguchi smirking behind his comic, watching the blond closely. 

➣ “...yeah, I’ve heard of it,” Tsukishima simply replies. 

➣ “I’ve been thinking about making more money but I don’t have time for a part-time job so my friend suggested it. She said I could make over ten thousand yen a month.”

➣ “I think only the really attractive ones make that much.”

➣ You gasp, thoroughly offended, and Yamaguchi looks mildly annoyed by his friend’s response, already opening his mouth to chastise him for being so mean—but before he can say anything, Tsukishima is speaking again, still looking down at the book in his lap. 

➣ “Don’t do it though.” 

➣ “Why not?” You pout, refusing to look up at him when you speak. 

➣ “...I don’t want the person I like to do those types of things.” 

➣ You nearly choke on your own saliva, head darting up to stare at him in disbelief. Yamaguchi, for some reason, only smiles softly, looking unsurprised by the admission. 

➣ “W-what? You...like me?”

➣ “Oi, shouldn’t you be studying? One more F and you’re gonna flunk out of the class, dummy.”

➣ You’re slightly disappointed by the change of subject but when you notice the soft pink on Tsukishima’s cheeks you can’t help but to smile the whole time you finish your homework.

AOBA JOUSAI

↳ Oikawa

➣ Oikawa is a busy guy.

➣ You were well aware of that before the two of you happened to be paired up for an assignment and got to know each other, eventually becoming close friends. 

➣ Between volleyball practices, tournaments, magazine interviews, and appeasing a passionate fan club, Oikawa rarely has time for himself, let alone another person. 

➣ Despite all of that, you could tell he always made sure to spend time with you, dedicating a few weekends a month to hanging out, just the two of you, and constantly texting you in the times the two of you couldn’t physically be together. 

➣ From an outsider’s perspective, it was almost like the two of you were dating. 

➣ But alas, you know the sad reality is that Oikawa is most certainly not your boyfriend and you have no idea if he has any interest in your like that…

➣ ...Which is why you decide to try to make him jealous one day to push him towards confessing his feelings, if they exist. 

➣ The two of you are at a café, sipping lattes and gossiping about other students when you bring it up. 

➣ “Y’know...I’ve been thinking of making an OnlyFans.”

➣ To your surprise, Oikawa’s eyes seem to light up, his lips curving into a smile of excitement. 

➣ “Wow, really? Maybe I should make one too!”

➣ Oikawa immediately pulls out his cell phone and the color drains from your face as you realize your plan has completely backfired. 

➣ “My fans are going to love this—hey do you think we can do a collab? The two of us in one pic would make us top creators for sure.”

➣ You can only nod numbly with a fake smile at Oikawa’s enthusiasm.

➣ Oh god, you’ve created a monster…

NEKOMA

↳ Kozume

➣ Unless you’re Kuroo, becoming friends with Kenma is a nearly impossible feat. Actually making him want to spend time with you alone, even more so. 

➣ But somehow, you managed to work your way into Kenma’s tightly knit social circle more like a two point line segment of him and Kuroo and your evenings after his volleyball practice are usually spent in one of your bedrooms, playing Splatoon and Animal Crossing until your Switches die or your parents force you to come home for dinner—whichever comes first. 

➣ You love spending time with Kenma, his quiet presence somehow making you feel comfortable—but over time those feelings of ease have shifted into something more akin to nervousness and excitement as you’ve come to develop a crush on the setter.

➣ Every moment with him, watching the small smiles tug at his lips when he wins a match or his cute, frustrated pout when he can’t figure out how to defeat a boss makes your heart flutter and it’s becoming more and more painful to idly sit by without expressing your feelings.

➣ A direct confession, especially to a boy with nearly 0 social skills, is scary, so you want to be sure your feelings are returned before you even attempt to share them. 

➣ Thus, you’ve decided to take Kuroo’s advice.

➣ “Push him into a corner. Kenma will only act when he thinks he has to.” 

➣ You take a deep breath to steel your nerves before you speak, eying him sneakily from behind your Switch. 

➣ “Gamer girls and boys are kind of trendy these days; I’m thinking about starting an OnlyFans to make money to buy more games.”

➣ The only visible response you receive is a slow blink as Kenma continues to play his game, fingers tapping furiously on the keys. 

➣ “Ah...I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

➣ “Why not?”

➣ There are a few moments of silence between you two, the room only filled with the SFX of your games as Kenma seems to finish his round. You recognize the victory music as Kenma pauses to finally raise his gaze to meet your own. 

➣ “It's your body so I can’t tell you what to do but...I would feel really jealous of all your subscribers.”

➣ And just like that, Kenma returns his attention to the video game, unpausing and starting a new match, blissfully unaware of you struggling to calm your racing heart and flushed cheeks.