#okay i think i got to the end of what was posted on my beloved mutual's blog about it BUT

[silverselfshippingchaos]

could cozy up to me- ahem

[pedrospatch]

fall into temptation | three

Jackson! Joel Miller x Preacher’s Daughter Reader

series masterlist

summary: Of all the women to catch Joel Miller’s attention—it just had to be one of the goddamned preacher’s daughters.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. SLIGHT PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION OF READER, mentions of her hair which she can put up into braids as well as her style of clothing. despite the nickname Joel gives her, it does not speak to her body type or size. AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is 56). several mentions of religion and religious symbols, reader has a father and two sisters, all who come with names, reader gets put into a a very uncomfortable situation, insecurity, anxiety, Seth is an asshole, protective Joel, he threatens to break someone’s jaw which is a warning in and of itself. SMUT. loss of virginity, reader is inexperienced but not totally clueless, oral (both m and f receiving), risky unprotected p in v sex (please wrap it up), lots of praise and pet names (baby, babygirl, honey, you know, the works), Joel gets a teensy bit rough, creampie, hint of aftercare, ends with a cliffhanger, but also not really if you think about it?

MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY, NO MENTION OF RACE OR BODY TYPE.

word count: 10k

a/n: it was not my intention to post this on jesus day, but here we are. this took forever and a day considering the second part was posted back in september, but i am so so proud of myself for finally completing a wip i could cry. i did a bulk of the editing while i’ve been sick and in all honesty i probably should have asked someone to beta for me because i think i coughed out like 90% of my brain cells this week, but i think it turned out okay. ish.

Somehow, even over the volume of the live music, you could still hear their hushed, astonished whispers.

“Are you seeing what I’m seeing?”

��Is that Joel Miller with Pastor John’s daughter?”

“What’s she doing holding his hand?”

“He’s got to be at least twice her fucking age—”

Throat bobbing anxiously, you glanced up at Joel.

His shoulders were squared back, his head held high. 

Solid. Steady.

Joel couldn’t seem to care less about the bewildered stares, the judgment that was being flung his way. Not once did he seem to waver. But you?

Oh, you were already starting to crumble underneath it all, on the verge of falling apart right before everyone’s prying eyes. Shame sat heavily inside of your chest, the weight of the feeling suffocating you, making it harder and harder to breathe as it prevented air from reaching your lungs.

It had nothing to do with Joel. Of course it didn’t. It had all to do with you and with who you were. Their beloved preacher’s sweet, innocent young daughter. 

His youngest daughter. 

Suddenly, the whispers were no longer whispers.

“Oh God, she’s not going home with him, is she?”

“That’s not right! Someone should say something!”

“Pastor John would never allow something like this.”

“Poor thing���s naive—she doesn’t know any better.”

Hot, stubborn tears of frustration glazed over your eyes and threatened to spill. It was as if you were a child who didn’t know any better, a gullible, clueless little girl with nothing in her brain who needed to be rescued—saved from the bad, bad man before he did bad, bad things to her.

Had it been anyone else, no one would have batted an eye. No one would have noticed, let alone cared. But it was you that Joel Miller was leaving the bar with in the middle of the night and it was you whose hand he had clasped in his own. That is what made it wrong. That is why it was a problem.

Everyone’s concerns had nothing to do with him at all, they had everything to do with you. You, you, you. You were the sole reason why it was a problem, the reason why he was being perceived as the Devil himself, horns out as he dragged the poor little unsuspecting angel down to the fires of Hell.

“Joel?” Overwhelmed, you instinctively reached for his arm with your free hand. Cold and trembling, your little fingers curled tightly around his bicep, digging into the firm, bulging muscle through the thick corduroy fabric of his sleeve. You whispered his name again. “Joel—”

“S’alright, babygirl,” he reassured you quietly over his shoulder. He gave your hand a comforting squeeze. “S’alright. Just keep your eyes on me, sweetheart. I’ve got you. You just keep on lookin’ right at me, okay?”

Nodding, you inhaled deeply and focused on him. Only him. The broadness of his back and his shoulders. Tufts of hair that curled over the collar of his shirt. Only him. He’s what mattered. He’s all that mattered.

“Almost there,” Joel murmured, squeezing your hand again as the door came into view. “Breathe, baby. We’re almost there. I’ve got you. You’re alright. Ain’t gonna let anythin’ bad happen to you. Promise I’ve got you.”

It wasn’t until his fingers wrapped around the old, brass handle that you finally exhaled the breath you had been holding out in utter relief, though it was very, very short lived. Just as Joel pulled the door open, you felt a hand wrap around your arm. Dry, slender fingers dug into the soft flesh above your elbow as an attempt, and a feeble one at that, was made to tear you out of Joel’s grasp.

The music stopped and the bar fell silent. Everything and everyone came to a sudden standstill, freezing mid dance, mid drink, mid bite, mid gossip.

Shocked, you glanced over your shoulder. “Seth?” you squeaked his name. “What—what are you doing?”

Seth didn’t acknowledge you. His focus was on Joel.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Miller?”

Joel’s anger couldn’t be seen, but it could be felt. So palpable you could have wrapped your fingers around it. It radiated off of him and loomed over the entire bar like an incoming storm cloud. Threatening. Dangerous.

“Where are you taking her?” Seth demanded, his other hand curling around your wrist as he tried, but failed, to snatch you from Joel’s side once more. “Let the girl go! You let her go right now, you hear?”

Caught in between the two men, you nervously turned to look at Joel. Nostrils flared, jaw clenched, seething eyes that did the talking for him. His message was loud and oh so abundantly clear.

If Seth didn't take his hands off you, he wasn’t going to have any hands.

Not after Joel Miller was through with him.

Blazing heat flooded your face. As if it couldn’t possibly get any worse, everyone had now gathered around you to watch the tense encounter, eyes wide, brows raised and jaws practically on the weathered, hardwood floor.

Tommy Miller stood among the crowd, subtly shaking his head, his lips pressed together in a tight, thin line of disapproval as he glowered at his older brother. Would he be looking at Joel like that had it been Esther in your place? If she was the one he was taking home? Would any of this be happening if it was her instead of you?

“Seth.” Uttering his name, you shifted your attention back to him. You sounded calm and collected, despite feeling anything but. Joel’s hand in yours was the only thing keeping you steady and grounded. His touch was the only reason you hadn’t yet spiraled into a state of panic. Clearing your throat lightly, you spoke again and tried your hardest not to waver. “Please let go of me.”

Still fixed on Joel, he spat, “I’ll be damned if I let him take you anywhere.”

“He’s not taking me anywhere, Seth.” Without thinking, the words came tumbling out of your mouth—loud and clear for everyone in that room to hear. “He isn’t forcing me to go with him. I’m making the choice to leave with him. Out of my own volition. Please let go of me.”

Finally, Seth looked at you. His old, worn features were twisted in disbelief. “What?”

You swallowed dryly. Part of you wanted you to shrink away, curl into yourself. Instead, you straightened your posture, forced yourself to stand a little bit taller. Willed yourself to have a backbone for once in your life.

“You heard me,” you said, lifting your chin in defiance. Several onlookers gasped in surprise at your rebellion. Where had this insolence come from? “I’m choosing to leave with Joel. Now, please let go of my arm.”

Behind you, Joel stood silent and still. 

Watching. Observing. Waiting.

He wanted nothing more than to intervene. Rip you out of Seth’s hands and shatter each and every last bone in all ten of his fingers for putting them on you. Had Joel not realized that this was probably the first time in your whole, entire life you’d mustered up the courage to use your voice, he would have easily given into the urge. He wanted to protect you. He needed so badly to protect you. Yet, he knew you weren’t helpless or incapable of standing on your own two feet. He knew you deserved the chance to stand up and speak for yourself after a lifetime of being silenced, a lifetime of being forced to stay in your place, seen but never heard.

“Seth, let go of my arm,” you repeated. It was no longer a polite request. It was a demand.

He scoffed. “Do you honestly think I’m going to let you leave with somebody like him? You think I’m just going to stand back and let him take advantage of you?”

Oh, you hadn’t liked that insinuation, not one bit. 

It caused something inside of you to finally give way.

Snap.

The blood in your veins boiled, ran hot enough to make you feel like you were about to burn from the inside out. “Joel isn’t taking advantage of me! It isn’t like that,” you seethed, furiously. The quiet, well mannered, obedient good girl everyone in Jackson knew was gone. And she could stay gone. In your periphery, you could see Leah elbowing her way through the sea of people to the front of the crowd with an incredulous look plastered on her face. She stood there beside Tommy, who appeared to be just as incredibly bewildered by your outburst. “Don’t treat me like I’m some child who doesn’t know any better! I’m an adult and I’m old enough to make my own choices, okay?”

For a moment, you had forgotten it was Seth standing there in front of you.

“I’m capable of making my own decisions! I don’t need you to dictate my life. I don’t need you to tell me what is and isn’t good for me—controlling what I should and shouldn’t believe in.” Your voice trembled as emotions you’d been suppressing for years bubbled their way up to the surface. Amidst the chaos, you could feel Joel squeeze your hand again, as if silently encouraging you not to lose your nerve. He was your anchor, the only person who could keep your world from capsizing. You knew he wouldn’t let you drown. Not even God, who you had always been forced to believe was your pillar of strength, had ever made you feel this protected. Safe. “I don’t need you to tell me how to live and much less when it’s the end of the world.”

It wasn’t Seth you were addressing.

It was your father.

Your father, who controlled every last thing, from what you would eat to the way that you dressed and how you wore your hair.

Your father, who refused to let you have a mind of your own, who simply could not bear the mere thought of you thinking for yourself.

Your father, whose love felt like shackles, heavy, rusted metal restraints that had been digging into the flesh of your wrists for far, far too long.

“You need to let me go now,” you said, swallowing back the lump in your throat. Once more, you caught Leah from the corner of your eye, your heart lurching in your chest when you noticed her desperately trying to wipe at her eyes with the back of her hand. She was the only person in the room who understood how you felt. Her rebelliousness only ever masked the pain of knowing her father’s love came with terms and conditions—and the fear of knowing what would happen if those terms and conditions weren’t met. For several weeks, you’d gotten a taste of what she went through everyday, how her fear of putting her foot down led her to run around in secret and live a double life. “Just let me go.”

Seth firmly shook his head. “No! I’m not letting you go anywhere with him. I don’t know what the hell he did to you, but he’s clearly got you all fucking brainwashed.”

That was fucking enough. Joel stepped in, lowering his voice as he said, “Y’know, I’ve just ‘bout lost count of how many fuckin’ times she’s asked you to let her go now and it’s really startin’ to piss me off.” Raising an eyebrow, he laid his offer out on the table. “Here’s the deal. You let go of her right now and I won’t shatter your fuckin’ jaw into pieces. That seem fair enough to you?”

“No.” Seth gripped your arm even harder, prompting you to let out a little yelp as his nails dug painfully into your skin. Though it’d been accidental and he hadn’t meant to hurt you, it didn’t matter. He’d just set off the ticking time bomb that was Joel Miller.

Furious, Joel snatched a fistful of his shirt with his free hand—the other still held yours. Gentle, despite being mere moments away from beating someone to within an inch of their life.

“Joel! Stop!” Tommy’s voice broke through the tension as he approached. His footsteps were slow—careful and cautious, as if he was afraid to make any kind of sudden movement. “Joel. Hey. C’mon now, let’s not do this, alright? Ain’t gotta handle things this way. We can talk it through. No need for anyone to wind up bleedin’ in the fuckin’ infirmary tonight, so just take a breath and let him go.”

Blatantly ignoring Tommy’s attempt to keep the peace, Joel tugged Seth forward, yanking him closer. “Listen to me and listen to me good ‘cause I ain’t gonna fuckin’ say it again. You’d best take your fuckin’ hands off her right now unless you wanna spend the rest of the night sweepin’ up your teeth off the floor of your own fuckin’ bar,” he threatened, his tone enough to send a chill up anyone’s spine, even your own.

“You wouldn’t dare, Miller.” Somehow, Seth managed to keep a straight face, but you could see it so clearly in his eyes and in the tremble of his lower lip—oh, he was terrified of Joel and rightly so. “Not in front of all these people. Not in front of your brother. That wouldn’t be a smart move considering you’re already on thin fucking ice for what you did to that boy’s face, now would it?”

Joel tugged him closer. “Test me,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “Go on. Fuckin’ test me.”

His challenge was immediately met with a pathetic look of defeat. Seth dropped your arm and he was released.

“S’what I fuckin’ thought.” Without another word to the man, Joel whirled around and roughly pulled the door open, leading the way outside. As you both descended the building’s old, creaking wooden steps, you began to shiver and he suddenly remembered he’d left his jacket behind inside the bar. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “C’mere, my little dove,” he murmured as he tucked you against his side for warmth. “I’ve got you.”

The first thing he did was light the fireplace.

“Should start warmin’ you up, sweet girl,” he’d said to you over his shoulder. He tossed a log into the blaze as you sat perched on his couch rubbing your bare arms with your hands. “M’gonna go upstairs and find you a blanket, alright? You stay put.”

“Okay,” you’d mumbled, knowing there was no point in telling him not to fuss over you.

Even with the soft, fleece throw blanket he had draped around your shoulders and the warmth of the flames in front of you, you continued trembling. Subtle, but he’d noticed it, felt it when he had sat down beside you and pulled you close against his side. “Oh baby, you’re still shakin’?” That was when he realized you weren’t cold. Frowning, Joel rose to his feet and disappeared down the hallway. He came back to the living room a minute later with a glass of water in his hand. With a small, labored grunt, he dropped to one knee in front of you and held it out. “Here.”

“No, thank you.” You shook your head. “I’m not thirsty.”

“Maybe not, but I’m kinda worried you could be in a bit of shock right now,” he stated, the creases in between his brows deepening as he observed you for any other physical signs of distress. Carefully, Joel lifted the glass to your lips, gently coaxing you to take a drink. “C’mon, darlin’. Think you can be a real good girl for me and at least take a couple sips? Hm?”

Sighing softly, you nodded and did as he asked of you, taking a small sip of water. It soothed your dry mouth and throat and you took another one. Maybe you were thirsty after all.

“Little more, now. Little more. That’s it. That’s my good girl.” Once he was satisfied with how much you’d had to drink, Joel set the half empty glass down on the oak coffee table behind him. He turned back to you, placing his large hands on either side of your thighs below the hem of your dress. He started tracing soft, soothing circles into your skin with his thumbs. “M’real proud of you for standin’ up for yourself back there, sweetheart. Took a whole lot of fuckin’ courage to do that, y’know.”

You glanced down at your hands in your lap. “Mhm.”

“Baby. Hey. Look at me.” One of his hands abandoned your leg and he reached up, delicately taking your chin between his thumb and index finger. He tilted your face upwards, his worried gaze meeting your own. “Talk to me. M’right here.”

“That—that was a lot,” you admitted meekly, shoulders sagging as the adrenaline started wearing off and your body slowly came down from the peak hormone rush. “It was a lot.”

Sighing, Joel’s hand fell away from your face. “Yeah, I know it was a lot, babygirl. I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“No.” You were quick to cut him off. “Don’t be sorry.”

His chest heaved with another sigh, this one deeper, heavier, bearing the weight of his guilt. “Well I am,” he said. He planted his hands on either side of you on the couch and lightly shook his head. “Didn’t even fuckin’ think twice when I pulled you outta that fuckin’ supply closet and took your hand in front of all those people. I was so fuckin’ hellbent on showin’ everybody you were mine that I didn’t even stop and think ‘bout what all it would mean for you. It was selfish of me. Real fuckin’ selfish. And I’m sorry, little dove.”

“Do you regret it?” you asked, quietly.

Joel chuckled in spite of himself. “M’pretty sure I’m the one who should be askin’ you that question, darlin’,” he remarked. “Tell me. Do you regret it? Do you regret me pullin’ you outta that closet?” He momentarily paused. There was a stutter in his heartbeat when you dropped your gaze away from his, silence your only reply. “Do you regret me takin’ your hand in front of everyone?”

Of course not.

You wanted to be his and you wanted everyone to know it. There was no regret, none. 

Still. 

The consequences that you would undoubtedly have to face in the morning were overwhelming. Daunting.

Surely, by then, your father would know about you and Joel. When he came downstairs right after sunrise and he discovered you weren’t in the kitchen helping Lydia prepare breakfast, he would question where you were and make some kind of remark about how you should not be sleeping in this late. He would tell her just how irresponsible it was for you to ignore your duties and obligations to him and the family. Sloth was one of the seven deadly sins, after all. He would make her trek upstairs and wake you, and when she did, your sister would find your bed empty.

Meanwhile, there would be a knock at the front door.

No stranger to having members of the congregation show up on his doorstep when they were in need, be it of prayer or comfort, your father would answer it only to find someone, not in need of solace, but who felt that it was their responsibility and moral obligation to inform him that they had seen his youngest daughter leaving The Tipsy Bison with Joel Miller in the middle of the night, hand in hand.

He wouldn’t believe them.

“Now, that is simply not true,” he would say, offended that anybody would have the nerve to show up at his door and accuse you of something so vile. “That’s not possible. I know my daughter and she would never do such a thing. It must have been someone else that you saw with him. Someone who looked like her, perhaps.”

Then, Lydia would descend the staircase and tell him you weren’t in your bedroom. “She must have gone up to the main street as soon as she woke up,” she would suggest with a shrug, not yet privy to the events that had taken place the night before at the party you and Leah had snuck off to. She never had to worry about you, the good one. “I did notice we were running pretty low on eggs. Sugar, too. She probably wanted to be the first in line at the pantry to—Papa? What’s the matter?”

The color would drain from your father’s face when the realization slowly sank in. No, you weren’t out on the main street picking up eggs for breakfast and sugar for his tea. You were lying up in Joel Miller’s bed—defiled, impure, and with the curse of Eve on your flesh. Even after dedicating his entire life to making sure you did not stray from the path of righteousness, he had failed. You had fallen into temptation. 

There was a chance he would have mercy on you. All you had to do was beg and plead for his forgiveness—and more importantly, for the forgiveness of God. “Vow to atone for your sins,” your father would say, his gaze fixed on the Holy Bible in his lap. He probably wouldn’t be able to look at you, not after what you had done. “Repent. And swear to me, child, that you will never so much as glance in that man’s direction ever again.”

No. That’s not what you wanted.

You wanted Joel and the freedom to be with him. 

But that freedom came with a high, high price.

You were willing to pay it, but you’d be lying if you said you were prepared to navigate the consequences. Then again, was there really any way for someone to prepare themselves to be shunned by their own father?

“I can take you home,” Joel offered quietly, the sound of his voice taking you out of the future and bringing you back into the present.

“What?”

“I can take you home,” he repeated himself. “I can take you home right now if that’s what you want, sweet girl. Won’t give you any kinda grief ‘bout it.”

Confused, all you could do was stare at him.

“Listen to me, baby. You mean a lot to me. More than I can even begin to explain,” Joel reassured you before any kind of doubt could find its way into your mind. “I want you to stay with me. There’s nothin’ on what’s left of this fuckin’ earth I want more than for you to stay here with me. But what you want matters to me a hell of a lot more than what I want.” He reached up, lightly stroking your cheek with his thumb. “If you decide you wanna go home and go back to your family—back to your old man—then that’s where I’ll take you. Okay?”

Your father would give you an ultimatum. But Joel? He was giving you a choice. And he’d respect that choice.

“I wanna free you from your cage, my little dove. But I think we both know you’ve gotta make the choice to fly outta there on your own.” He lightly swept his thumb over your quivering bottom lip, his eyes meeting yours as he whispered, “Door’s wide open for you. What you do next is all up to you.”

“I’m afraid, Joel,” you confessed. A tear slipped from the corner of your eye and rolled its way down the side of your face. He was quick to wipe it away, along with the others that followed. “I do want out of my cage. I really, really do. But I’m terrified. All I have ever known is my family and my faith. I have never been apart from my father and my sisters.”

His expression softened. “I know you’re scared. Can’t promise you things will be easy, but there is one thing I can promise you.”

“What’s that?” you questioned, then waited with baited breath.

He gingerly cupped your cheek in his large palm. “I’ve got you,” he swore to you, just like he had done so back at the bar. “If you decide to stay, I promise I’ll take real, real good care of you, alright? For the rest of my life, I’ll take care of you. You won’t ever have to worry ‘bout a thing with me by your side. Swear it on my life.”

Warmth blossomed in your heartspace and finally, you stopped trembling. Lifting a hand, you curled your fingers around his wrist as your gaze fell to his mouth. “Joel?”

“What is it, darlin’ girl?”

“Kiss me. Please.”

With a gentle nod, Joel’s other hand found your hip, the warmth of it seeping through the cotton fabric of your dress. Leaning in, he brushed his lips against yours. It was a chaste thing, soft and innocent until you grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him closer to you. “Babygirl,” he mumbled against your lips. He deepened the kiss, sweeping his tongue through your parted lips and into your mouth. He tasted like bold bourbon and citrus beer. There was a faint hint of tobacco too—you recalled him admitting to you one night in the church house that while he wasn’t all that much of a smoker, at least not like he used to be when living in the zones, he would occasionally partake in the habit if he happened to come across a pack of cigarettes while out on patrol, pairing the nicotine with a drink. He tasted delicious. He tasted delicious because he tasted like yours.

You sank back into the worn, supple brown leather of his couch, tugging him forward so he sank in with you. Over you. Releasing your near death grip on his collar, you managed to wedge your hands in between your bodies and began to claw furiously at the buttons of his shirt, your fingers shaking out of pure desperation to feel him. It wasn’t until you were halfway down that he finally noticed what you were doing and leaned back, catching both of your wrists.

“Baby, wait,” he panted, shaking his head. “Don’t think now’s a good time for that—”

“Joel, please,” you pleaded, the intense ache between your thighs almost too much for you to bear. “Please. I want it. I want you.”

“S’been a rough night for you.” Joel’s voice was hoarse—strained, like he was aching just as much, if not more. “You’re real emotional right now. Vulnerable. Last thing I want is to take advantage of you at a time like this.”

You frowned. Had Seth’s words gotten into his head?

“You’re not taking advantage of me.”

“Darlin’ I just don’t think we should—”

“Joel, please,” you begged him again. “I was so good for you, was I not? Wasn’t I patient, just like you asked me to be?”

His lips thinned into a tight line. He wouldn’t be able to resist much longer. You, his beautiful little temptress of Eden.

“I waited for so long,” you reminded him. “I’ve been so, so good for you. Please, just make me yours already. I don’t want to think about anything else right now. I just want to be with you. Please, Joel. I need you so badly it hurts.”

Christ.

No man could stand it. No man could possibly have the strength to deny you.

With a look of utter defeat, he folded. Before he could say another word or make another move, your greedy mouth was on his, and you kissed him with fervor, with urgency, as you finished the task of unbuttoning his shirt. Pushing it off of his shoulders, the corduroy fabric fell into a crumpled heap behind him, nearly knocking the glass of water off the coffee table. You broke away from him and shamelessly marveled at his mouth watering form—you admired the way miles of smooth, tanned skin stretched over his wide shoulders, broad chest and soft, soft belly. Arousal pooled between your legs and you reached out and raked your fingers down his chest, and over his stomach, going lower and lower, following the trail of coarse, dark hair that led you to his brown leather belt. You clumsily started fumbling with the brass buckle until he caught your hands once more.

“Slow down, my little dove,” he murmured. “No need to rush this. We’ve got all night.” He stood up and held his hand out to you. Time blurred a bit—maybe it was your nervousness mingled with the eager anticipation of what was to come, but there seemed to be a small gap in your memory, a blank space that spanned from the moment you rose off the couch until the moment you found yourself standing in his bedroom where you were about to answer to the call of the flesh.

Dropping your hand, Joel switched on the lamp on his bedside table and kicked off his boots before taking you into his arms. “C’mere, honey.” He nuzzled your cheek with the tip of his nose as he spoke, the scruff of his beard tickling your cheek. “Couple’a rules, sweet girl. I do somethin’ that you don’t like, you tell me. You want me to stop, you tell me to sto—”

Without waiting for him to finish his sentence, you slowly lowered yourself down onto the floor and knelt at his feet with purpose, as if kneeling before an altar, a sacred, holy space. Though you felt anxious, you were eager to worship. “I haven’t forgotten about what I said earlier tonight,” you cooed, noticing the mild look of surprise on his face. “I said I’d make it up to you and I intend on keeping my word.”

All the blood in his body rushed south to his cock and it strained painfully against the crotch of his jeans. “Baby, I—” Again, he was cut off, only this time by the sound of his own groan when your hand brushed up the front of his thigh and over his growing bulge. He glanced down, his heart thrumming painfully hard against his sternum as he watched you reach for his belt buckle.

With all your might, you willed your hands so as not to tremble. It was self-explanatory, what you were about to do, but your total lack of experience sowed seeds of doubt into your mind—you wanted to make him feel good, just like he had made you feel good outside of the church house during services. Just how you knew he would make you feel tonight.

Hand still over his buckle, you pressed the tenderest of kisses to his bulge through his jeans. Then, turning your head, you rested your cheek on one of his thick, blue denim clad thighs and peered up at him through your eyelashes with a small, nervous smile as you confessed what he already knew. “I’ve never done this before.”

Oh, how sweet and endearing you were. Joel reached down and smoothed your hair back and away from your face, tucking it behind your ear. “S’alright, honey,” he crooned, grazing the silkiness of your cheek with his index finger. “I’ll walk you through it. Teach you how to be a real good girl and suck my cock just the way I like it. That what you want, my little dove?”

His filth made your cunt clench hard around nothing.

Slowly lifting your head off of his thigh, you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and managed a clear, consenting nod as your hands fumbled with his buckle, the clinking sound of metal ringing loudly in your ears. You undid the button on his jeans and pulled down his zipper, your throat drying when you saw the outline of him, his size intimidating even behind the cotton fabric of his faded, black boxer briefs.

With a harsh swallow, you glanced up at him, silently asking him for his permission to continue.

Such a polite little thing, Joel thought to himself. “Go on, sweetheart,” he encouraged.

You tugged his jeans down to the middle of his thighs and hooked your index fingers underneath the elastic waistband of his boxer briefs, pulling them down and freeing his cock. There was a deep, swooping sensation in your belly as you watched it slap up against the lower part of his abdomen. After many nights of sitting in his lap, feeling him through his clothes, grinding your cunt down onto him, you thought you’d at the very least had an idea of what you would be in for, but oh, how wrong you had been. He was so much bigger than you could have imagined, and your stomach swooped again when you realized he was not going to fit. Anywhere.

Licking away the dryness of your lips, you take him in one of your hands, feeling the heaviness of his length in your palm. He was so long and so, so thick.

“Oh fuck,” Joel hissed the curse through gritted teeth, his hips jerking forward involuntarily as your touch sent a charged jolt of electricity shooting up the length of his spine. He looked down at you, his pupils blown wide with arousal. Christ. You hadn’t even done anything to him yet, but seeing you sitting so prettily at his feet was almost enough to make him come on the spot.

Delicately wrapping your hand around him, you found yourself almost in awe at the way your fingertips barely, just barely, touched. The sheer size of his cock dwarfed your hand, and made it seem so much smaller than it really was.

“You’re so big,” you murmured, echoing your thoughts. You licked at your lips again, suddenly feeling ravenous, an appetite that had seemingly come out of nowhere making you salivate. The tip of him was flushed red, slit already glistening—how badly you wanted, needed a taste. Never, ever, did you think you would be down on your knees for anything but prayer, but there you were, starved and desperate to bite into the forbidden fruit.

“What’re you waitin’ for, darlin’ girl?” he croaked.

“Permission,” you replied, sweetly.

“Go right ahead, baby. S’all yours—I’m all yours.”

Yours.

Yours, yours, yours.

Finding your first push of courage, you leaned forward and so carefully swept your tongue along the tip of his length, collecting the slight saltiness leaking from the slit and getting your first delectable taste. With your hand still wrapped firmly around his base, you looked up, your eyes locked on Joel’s face as you flicked your tongue up against the rigid underside of his cock.

“Fuckin’ Christ,” Joel groaned, all of the muscles in his stomach already pulling taut when he felt you dragging your tongue in a slow, purposeful lick along the length of him. “Babygirl.”

“Is that good?” you asked him, sounding hopeful. “Am I doing good?”

“Doin’ so, so fuckin’ good for me, sweetheart. Look so fuckin’ pretty down on your knees for me.”

Pleased, you wrapped your mouth around the head of his length, pressing forward and taking him in as far as you possibly could—which, in all fairness, wasn’t very far. At least not as far as you would have liked. Another groan tore itself from the depths of his chest as your plush, plump lips sealed around him, your tongue warm and wet on the underside of his cock. Moving both of your hands to rest on the sides of his thighs, you began to move your head back and forth, following what felt most natural to you. The nerves you initially felt slowly but surely dissipated, vanishing one by one with every curse, every tremble, every sharp breath.

Joel resisted the urge to buck his hips forward, fought the desire to feel himself at the back of your throat. He needed to be gentle, so careful with such an innocent, pliant thing who had much, much to learn. “Sweet little fuckin’ mouth feels so good around my cock, baby, just like I fuckin’ knew it would. Y’think it can take more of me, little dove? Hm?”

You hummed, the vibration intensifying his pleasure.

“Yeah? Y’trust me?”

Your reply came in the form of a muffled, “Mhm.”

Joel reached down and cradled the back of your head in the palm of his hand. He carefully guided you further onto his throbbing length, slowly feeding you one inch at a time. Your fingers dug into the denim of his jeans. He was much more than a mouthful for you, and you could only take about half of him before he hit the back of your throat, prompting you to gag around him. Drool dribbled out from the corners of your mouth and down the sides your chin, dripping onto your lap.

“Oh fuck, sweetheart. Yeah, that’s it. Little more now, honey,” Joel encouraged. He bucked his hips forward, his head slipping further down your throat. Just when you felt like you were about to choke, he pulled out and you tried your hardest not to cough and sputter as you took in a much needed, precious breath of air. He gave you a few seconds or so to finish catching your breath as he shoved his jeans and boxer briefs further down his legs. He stepped out of the articles of clothing and kicked them somewhere off to the aside, standing before you completely bare. “Open up.”

Your absolute devotion to him bred sweet submission, so as worried as you were that you wouldn’t be able to handle it, you nodded obediently and very willingly did as you were told. 

He guided himself right back into your waiting mouth, pressing deeply. You tried to relax your jaw, reminding yourself to breathe in and out through your nose. Tears streamed down the sides of your face as you did your best to forestall another gag. “Little bit more,” he said, thrusting his hips in a slow, steady controlled rhythm. He advanced even further into your mouth—trusting he wouldn’t suffocate you, nor push you too far past your limits, you opened up wider. He moaned, “Yeah, baby. That’s my good girl. That’s my good fuckin’ girl.”

With a bit of newfound confidence, you hollowed your cheeks and sucked him. You swiped your tongue along the thick, prominent vein on the underside of his cock, earning yourself more of his sweet, sweet praise.

“Fuck, yeah, suck me off, sweetheart. This pretty little mouth was fuckin’ made for sin,” he breathed, guiding your head back and forth with a firm, but gentle hand.

You moaned, the noise muffled around his length. Slick soaked through your panties and coated the insides of your thighs. With another moan, you tightly squeezed your legs together, inwardly reminding yourself that patience was a virtue.

Noticing the way you had shifted, Joel moved his hand from the back of your head, lightly curling his fingers around your jaw. He pulled you off of his cock, a loud, lewd popping sound bouncing off the sage green walls of his bedroom. “C’mere, baby.” He grabbed your arms, effortlessly hoisting you up to your feet.

“What’s wrong?” you questioned him worriedly. “Did I do something wrong?”

Chuckling softly, he brushed a finger along the strap of your dress. You could do no wrong, his perfect, perfect girl. “Of course not, sweet girl. You did so fuckin’ good for me,” Joel reassured you, lightly tracing along your collarbone with his finger and making your flesh erupt in goosebumps. He leaned forward and feathered a kiss onto your lips, murmuring against them, “Are you wet, little dove?”

Before you could even process the query and generate some kind of coherent response, he dove his opposite hand between your thighs, cupping your warm heat in his palm. At this, your weak knees buckled, prompting you to reach out and grab onto his arms to hold steady and keep yourself from falling into a helpless heap on the floor.

“Oh, honey. You’re soaked. That what sucking my cock does to you?” he cooed. He peppered another kiss, this one onto the corner of your mouth. His voice lowered another octave. “Poor little thing. She needs me, don’t she? Needs me to take care of her?”

You whimpered. “Yes.”

“Manners, babygirl,” he reminded you, skimming your cheek with his nose. “Yes, what?”

“Yes, please.”

Humming in approval, Joel withdrew his hand from in between your legs and guided you backwards towards his bed. “Sit,” he commanded gently, bidding you to let go of him. “Arms up.”

Reaching for the hem of your dress, he took great care in pulling it over your head, then discarded the vibrant yellow material over his shoulder, leaving you in nothing but your cowboy boots and thin, cotton white panties. Without a word, he knelt before you and pulled off one boot, and then the other, setting them both aside. He hooked two fingers underneath the elastic waistband of your underwear, coaxing you to lift your bottom off of the bed, just long enough for him to pull them down and slide them down your legs. He was so tender in the manner in which he undressed you.

“Fuckin’ beautiful, beautiful girl,” Joel praised. His dark gaze dragged down the length of your body as you sat before him wearing nothing but the delicate, gold chain around your neck. The holy cross nestled between your supple breasts gleamed in the light of the lamp on the nightstand. He would leave it on until your decision was made, set in stone. “My pretty little dove.”

“Joel.” You whimpered his name, hands curling around fistfuls of his dark blue sheets. You were drenched now, in dire need of some relief. If he didn’t touch you where you needed him most, you would surely lose your mind.

Desperate, you leaned back slightly onto his bed and parted your knees, your folds glistening as you showed him just how badly you needed him.

Joel groaned, almost visibly salivating at the sight. The blazing heat in his eyes sent ripples of desire coursing through your body, straight to your throbbing core.

You opened wider. “Please.”

“Christ, babygirl. Already soakin’ the sheets.” Sliding a finger up along the seam of your pussy, he grazed your clit, the touch light, but somehow still enough to make your hips arch off the mattress as white-hot pinpricks of pleasure danced their way up your spine. He lowered his head and leaned in, your sweet scent drawing him in like a moth to a flame. Just when you were about to start pleading him for more, he dipped his face into the apex of your thighs, his mouth finally, finally, meeting your wet heat.

“Oh!” you gasped, your head falling back. “Fuck!”

Against you, his lips curled upwards into a wicked grin. He’d never heard you curse before, not until now.

Joel took his time devouring you, savoring the essence of your cunt with each broad stroke of his tongue. Sealing his lips around your clit, he flicked the swollen, sensitive bundle of nerves over and over again, eliciting from you some of the sweetest noises that he had ever heard in his entire life. In preparation for what you both knew was to come, he pushed one finger inside of you, the invasion causing you to fist his sheets even harder. He then slipped in a second finger, groaning in sheer, carnal bliss at how your walls squeezed them, at the mere thought of them squeezing his cock in the same manner. How was it that you felt so much tighter this time around?

“Oh God.”

You shouldn’t be saying His name. Not like this.

Not when something this sinful was being done to you.

Hungrily, Joel lapped at you, curling both of his fingers in an upwards motion to hit the perfect spot. He knew you were close, felt it in the way that you squirmed and writhed. Draping his arm across your hips, he pinned them down onto the bed, holding you still as he chased your high as if it were his own.

“Joel,” you chanted his name over and over again in a fevered prayer. Releasing the sheets, your hands found his hair, tangling themselves in his curls. Your head fell back, and you cursed at the ceiling of his bedroom. “Fuck, fuck, fuck Joel—”

Pushing onto his mouth, you came, moaning his name so loudly you were certain the whole neighborhood was getting an earful.

Joel pulled back, his beard and mustache slicked with your spend. “S’right, honey,” he crooned, his digits still buried to the knuckle as he helped you to ride out your wave of ecstasy. Eventually, when he pulled them out, you tried closing your shaking legs. He tsked and shook his head, wrenching them open further. “No, no, baby. Keep those pretty thighs open for me. Wanna see her.” He admired his work, his cock twitching at the sight of your pussy, swollen and shining, and ready to take him.

Like earlier, there was another brief skip in time.

Mind still in a haze, you hadn’t even realized that he’d risen to his feet and guided you further up onto his bed, not until you were lying on your back with your head on his pillow and he was hovering over you, his hard length brushing against one of your messy, inner thighs when he settled himself between your legs. 

Your heart began to pound in a mingle of both fear and excitement.

Joel’s eyes met yours. His pupils were blown so wide, there was not one, single trace of brown anywhere to be seen. “Y’absolutely sure about this, little dove?”

Your response came without hesitation. “Yes. I’m sure.”

He pressed a kiss to the underside of your jaw. Your submission was a gift, and he would cherish every last second of your surrender to him, savor it for as long as he possibly could. His lips, soft and warm, skimmed along the column of your throat, leaving a trail of fresh goosebumps in their wake.

If, by some chance, you decided that you wanted to go back to your father and to your faith, Joel didn’t know how he would find it in himself to let you go, not after this. Of course, he would have to let go, though.

The last thing he wanted was to help free you from one cage just to stick you right back into another. While he was no stranger to loss, he had to admit to himself that to lose you would be a knife to whatever was left of his heart.

Shoving the thought out of his mind, he reached down and gripped the base of his cock, pumping it in his fist before running the leaking head along your puffy lips, coating himself in your wetness with the hope it would ease some of the pain you were bound to feel. “Ready, babygirl?” he asked you, lightly teasing your entrance. “Might hurt a bit. M’gonna go slow. Just need you to relax for me, alright?”

“Okay.”

“I’ve got you,” he promised.

You nodded, saying softly, “I know.”

Though he knew he had all of your trust, Joel could still sense your anxiousness. He reached out for your hand, lacing your fingers together with his own as he gingerly pressed forward and eased himself into you, taking the very innocence you had been taught your entire life to preserve, one slow, careful inch at a time.

“Oh—Joel!” You cried loudly at the initial stretch, your pretty face scrunching in discomfort. Tightly slamming your eyes shut, sparks flew behind your eyelids when he finally bottomed out. The burning sting in between your thighs was too overwhelming, almost impossible to cope with. He felt so enormous within you, you could have sworn he was in your belly. Another broken cry fell from your lips and he swallowed it with a comforting kiss.

“Jesus Christ,” he hissed against your lips, a thin sheen of sweat coating his brow, neck, and chest. He wasn’t sure where he found the strength, but he suppressed his urge to thrust. Instead, he dropped his face into the hollow of your neck and waited, giving you the chance to adjust to him. He mumbled against your skin. “Doin’ so good for me, sweet girl. Y’know that? You’re doin’ so fuckin’ good for me.”

Even in discomfort, you preened at his praise.

He squeezed your hand, and after a minute, he gave an experimental thrust of his hips—and then another and another before he ceased his movement once again. He was so big and you were so deliciously full of him.

Eventually, the pain subsided, and you found yourself asking, no, begging for more. “Move.” Your other hand found itself cupping the side of his face, coaxing him to lift his head and allowing your gazes to meet. Your soft, plush thighs parted further to help accommodate the breadth of his hips. “Please, Joel. I need you to move—I need you to fuck me.”

Surely, you would be the death of him.

He drew his hips back with cautious, tender care, then advanced in the same manner to fill your precious cunt all over again. He did it over and over, your pleasured moans encouraging him to begin picking up the pace. He drove his cock in and out of your weeping pussy, the slapping of flesh against flesh, the lewd, wet squelch of you around him inspiring him to fuck you harder, faster. And the noises you were making?

There was something oh so beautiful about your cries, sweet raptures of submission as you laid there beneath him, all too graciously taking everything he had to give you like the good, good, good girl you were for him.

“Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart,” Joel rasped. “Look at you—look at the way you take my fuckin’ cock, honey.”

And you did.

Glancing down, your gaze fell between your bodies and you watched in awe, openly marveled at the way Joel slid in and out of your cunt, how he knocked hard so deeply inside of you, driving himself as far as he could possibly go.

“Fuck Joel, I’m gonna—” You tried warning him as the pressure in your belly neared its peak, but you tumbled over the edge before you even had the chance to finish your sentence. Arching up off off the bed, you pressed your chest against his, your fingers squeezing his own so hard you feared you might break them.

“That’s it babygirl, let go,” he grunted, speeding up his thrusts. “Squeeze my fuckin’ cock—just like that. Good girl. My perfect, perfect girl.”

You didn’t quite get the chance to let the praise sink in.

Joel pulled himself out of you, and with ease, he flipped you over onto your belly. His hands gripped your hips and pulled them up off the mattress, his fingers moving to firmly knead the fleshiest part of your ass. He leaned over you, the head of his cock nudging at your hole. “Y’think you can handle a little bit more, sweetheart?” he whispered the question into a tumble of messy hair, the delicate scent of the lavender shampoo you used to wash it filling his senses. “Answer me, little dove.”

“Yes,” you replied breathlessly with a nod. “I can.”

With a satisfied hum, Joel sank into you, this second stretch not quite as overwhelming at the first, but still intense. “Relax,” he murmured, hunching further over your quivering back. He pressed a kiss onto the top of your head and then leaned down to brace his hands on either side of you. “Need you to be sweet for me just a bit longer, okay, baby?”

“God,” you whimpered when the heaviness of his balls came to rest on your sensitive clit.

It was the second time you’d uttered His name.

Joel almost grinned at the irony. He found his rhythm, groaning in gut-deep satisfaction with each snap of his hips—each smooth stroke in and each smooth stroke out.

“Oh fuck, sweet girl.” Heaven was indeed a real place, and Joel Miller was buried in it to the hilt, right at this very moment.

He was getting closer and closer.

Maybe it was your eagerness to help him reach his own release mingled with the pride you knew you would feel once you did that gave you a second wind, a fresh, new burst of energy. You planted your hands firmly on his pillow. Rolling your bottom lip between your teeth, you curved your spine and pushed back onto Joel with purpose, meeting his thrusts halfway as you rode his aching length to the satiation that waited for him at the end.

“There’s my girl,” he rasped. “Oh fuckin’ Christ—”

No way he could live his life without you now.

He needed you.

He needed you so much more than you needed him.

Joel slipped an arm around your shoulders, across your chest.

“Oh!” you gasped as he then yanked you back, pulling you flush against him. The rough crash of your back against his chest, combined with the angle in which he was fucking you knocked the wind out of your lungs.

His lips were at the shell of your ear. “Stay,” he panted, his breath hot against your cheekbone. He wrapped his other hand lightly around your throat. Relentless, were his hips now—his movements had become frantic. Desperate. “Stay with me, baby.”

Even as you fought to catch your breath in the position he had you in, you picked up on the fact that he wasn’t asking you of it, nor was he demanding you of it.

He was begging you.

Him, the most feared man in this town. Begging you?

“Joel,” you choked.

“Please, my little dove,” he pleaded, turning your head towards him. His mouth was then on the corner of your own, his beard roughly scratching the soft and delicate flesh of your cheek. “I need you, babygirl. Stay with me. Please, just fuckin’ stay with me.”

Your hands curled around his wrists. “Yes, I’ll stay,” you moaned. “I’m yours, Joel. I’m all yours. I—I’m not going anywhere. I promise. I’ll stay with you.”

A low, guttural sound rumbled through his chest. Joel firmly took hold of your cross, and without so much as a warning, he ripped the chain from around your neck and tossed it somewhere over his shoulder. He heard it land on the hardwood floor with the tiniest, faint clink the moment he spilled into you, ropes of warm release coating your fluttering walls. Curses and groans spilled from his lips and into your neck. Your cunt clutched at his pulsing cock, greedy for every last drop of his spend she could get.  

Once you were filled, you both collapsed beside each other on the bed, heaving to catch a steady breath.

“Y’okay, sweetheart?” Joel managed to ask, his chest still rising and falling rapidly.

Exhausted, all you could do was nod and utter, “Mhm.”

He exhaled an amused huff through his nose. “C’mere.” He reached for you and pulled you against his side. He draped an arm around your shoulders, holding you as close to him as was possible. “Y’did so good, honey.”

Your mouth curled into a small, contented smile.

Several minutes had passed by, and despite telling him that you were too tired to even think about moving, Joel made you get up and use the bathroom, and while you did so, he ran a clean washcloth under warm water. “Here, darlin’. Let me clean you up,” he’d said, his lips meeting your forehead in a loving token of affection before he sank down onto one knee and ran the damp cloth along the insides of your thighs. He took extreme care when he wiped at your swollen folds, knowing you were still sensitive to the touch. “There we go. All done, now.”

Not long after, you were both back in his bed, wrapped up in his sheets.

Yawning, you nuzzled into bare his chest, your eyelids feeling heavier and heavier with each and every second that ticked by. You’d started drifting off when you heard his voice.

“Baby?”

“Hmm?” you answered sleepily, eyes still closed.

“Did you mean what you said?”

“Mean what, Joel?”

There was a brief pause. “Y’know, when you said you’d stay with me.”

Snuggling closer to him, you mumbled, “Mhm. Of course I did.”

“S’not gonna be easy,” Joel murmured into your hair.

“I know.” You yawned. “But I have you.”

“You do. You’ve got me—and I’ve got you, babygirl.”

“Mm. I know that too, Joel.”

You felt him kiss the top of your head and then fell fast asleep in his arms.

The sun bloomed over the Grand Tetons.

Your father would wake soon, that’s to say if he wasn’t up already.

The nerves began to set in.

Joel must have sensed it. “Breathe, baby. S’gonna be okay,” he soothed, squeezing your hand.

With one of his warmer, heavier jackets that normally didn’t see the light of day until winter season draped around your shoulders, the two of you made your way down the road and towards your house. Or better said, towards your father’s house. Because after what you were about to do, that yellow and white cottage would no longer be a place you could call home.

He led you up to the porch. “Y’sure you don’t want me to go in there with you?” he asked, quietly.

You could have laughed. You almost did.

“Do you believe that to be a wise choice?”

“No, I reckon it ain’t the best idea,” Joel admitted with a sigh, raking his free hand through his unkempt, salt and pepper hair. He looked up at the house, then back at you. “Look, little dove. No matter what happens in there, just know that everythin’ will be alright. M’gonna take care of you. For the rest of my life, I’ll take care of you. I’ll try my hardest to be everythin’ you need.”

“You already are, Joel,” you said, your gaze earnest.

His chest swelled with warmth.

Truth be told, Joel didn’t know how he had managed to defy the odds—how he, of all people, had managed to make his way into that sweet, innocent, beautiful little heart of yours, but somehow he did, and he would not take this responsibility lightly.

He brushed your lips with his and promised, “Gonna be waitin’ right here, okay?”

“Okay.” Inhaling deeply, you willed yourself to let go of his hand and took a step back. You then started up the porch steps on wobbling legs. When you made it to the top, you glanced over your shoulder at Joel, who gave you a subtle nod of encouragement. Exhaling slowly, you reached for the knob with trembling fingers and turned it, opening the door. You stepped inside, your heart dropping into your stomach when you saw your father sitting there at the foot of the staircase, as if he’d been waiting for you. He had been waiting for you. Fully dressed, he sat on the second to last step with both hands folded on his bible in his lap, a rosary clutched between them. “Papa?”

He said nothing. Instead, he silently observed you—his eyes glazed over the men’s jacket and the short dress you wore underneath it, the disheveled, loose hair and kiss swollen lips. Your holy cross nowhere to be seen.

“Papa.” You swallowed harshly and shifted your weight anxiously from the heel of one boot to the other. “We, um—we really need to have a talk.”

He peered around you, catching a brief glimpse of the man standing outside, waiting for you at the foot of the porch.

He cleared his throat, lightly. “Yes, child. I suppose that we do.”

Nodding tightly, you turned around and slowly closed the door. Joel’s words rang in your mind over and over, giving you the push of strength you knew you would need.

I’ve got you.

divider credit goes to @saradika 🤍

[lovingjingyuan]

What if reader has turned into a kitten or a cat? How will the hsr boys react to that?

(got this idea from this post https://www.tumblr.com/matchaitham/717357559079665664/how-un-fur-tunate?source=share )

Pairing: Aventurine, Jing Yuan, Dr Ratio

Aventurine(Kakavasha) Would spoil you with a luxury cat life. How could this have happened?! Aventurine was just on a peaceful stroll around the IPC headquarters when a sudden peculiar cat perched its head out of the corner and started tailing him. Who allowed the cat in this building? Topaz? Oh, he wouldn’t be surprised.

Unlike Topaz Aventurine was never too fond of animals himself. It’s never that he dislikes animals but rather he feels indifferent towards pets. Yet for some reason, this cat held his regard.

“Meow~” the cat's eyes falter before Aventurine’s presence.

“Are you talking to me, kitty?”

“Meow”

“Mh? Is there something you want to say, pretty kitty?”

“Meow!♡”

Communication was harder than he anticipated, but the urgency in the cat and anomalous behavior were enough evidence that he should follow through.

“Look here, Little Kitty,” he heaved a sigh, “I really don’t have the time for this. I need to go back to work,” he gently cushioned your head between his palms so he could feel the softness of the cat fur.

But in the end, despite all his protesting, Aventurine yielded to the cat’s insistence. Aventurine trailed behind the cat into his beloved bedroom. Strange why would this cat bring him into your shared room with him? The cat directed its attention to a portrait featuring both you and Aventurine, suddenly it all clicked to Aventurine. You are the cat!

“Kitty, what do you mean? Yes, I know my sweetheart is beautiful,” he would tease you pretending he didn’t catch on to what you were trying to hint. He watched the panic arise on your kitty's face.

“Meow!”

“Just playing, sweetheart,” he knelt down, opening his arm for your embrace, “Come here you good, little kitty! Aren’t you just a clever kitty?” his fingers scratched behind one of your fluffy ears. “God, you’re adorable and lovely even as a cat.”

You profusely let out meows while in Aventurine’s embrace. You would hiss at Aventurine whenever he tried feeding you cat food.

“Well, aren’t you feeling a little feisty today, sweetheart? Okay okay, I’ll get you back in no time”

He would prodigal you in luxurious cat beds and toys, even if he realizes or knows he’ll have to turn you back into your true self sooner or later. He just wants to embrace this special moment he has with you. Plus he knows he wouldn’t be able to have you stay a cat forever. You’re his lover, not his pet. Boom! Now he adores cats! Whenever he sees a cat he would think back to the situation between you and him.

Jing Yuan He would find this situation adorable and silly. Jing Yuan strolled around his garden frowning and sighing at the weeds hanging around his garden. A sudden cat perched at his feet. His thoughts immediately wandered to Mimi, yet he knew it couldn’t be her.

“Meow~”

He gently patted the cat’s head as it nuzzled against his fingers, looking up at him with familiar eyes. It was uncanny how much this cat resembled you in his head. Jing Yuan couldn’t help but chuckle to himself thinking about how’d you react when he introduced this cat to you.

“I’m sure my love would adore you,” he muttered, scratching the cat’s chin. He couldn’t help but bring himself to smile every time the cat nuzzled, brushing his head against his touch. Such an affectionate cat.

“Meow Meow!” The cat darted off expecting Jing Yuan to follow behind. Amused by its anomalous behavior, he let this little feline lead him to the bushes.

There, he watched the cat retrieve his lover’s phone, attempting to unlock your phone. The cat meowed trying to convey a message to him as a form of communication. Jing Yuan observed the strange cat’s behavior and was intrigued by the cat’s intelligence.

Before you the cat could succeed he takes the phone away from your captive. “Sorry, kitty. I need to return this to my lover,” his eyes stay falter, stretching the cat’s chin.

“Meow!” you hissed at him trying to get him to understand you ARE the cat, yet communicating with him was inefficient.

“General!” A high-pitched voice interrupted, and a purple dragon girl appeared, recognizing her as Bailu, rushing up to Jing Yuan in panic. “I-I turned your lover into a Cat! I’m so sorry!” Bailu pleaded.

“Mhhh… how fortuitous, “ he mused, his eyes relaxing on your small frame.

“I’m so sorry General! I was giving them medicine because they came in sick! I gave them something else by accident!” Bailu continued pleading with Jing Yuan, even if she knew the General was too kind to mind.

Jing Yuan can only chuckle, kneeing to your level and patting your head. “How unfortunate, yet how adorable. I’m sure we can fix this in no time,” he scooped you up in his arms, “Right my love?”

“Meow!”

He found himself adoring every moment spent with you while you’re a cat. He even prodigal a lot of cat toys and beds for you to feel comfortable. Of course, you still choose the bed with him. When you turn back into your former self, he’ll adopt a cat who looks just like you!

Veritas Ratio Let’s say he’s certainly not the brightest when you do. Ratio would cast you a disapproving look eyeing you up and down, as you can only meow at his direction. You had somehow shifted yourself into one of Ruan Mei’s creations while messing around with the Liveform Oven, creating new Cake Cats. Due to the potential danger, Ruan Mei had to return you over to Ratio for your safety.

“You imbecile,” was the first response he came up with seeing your circumstances. He surveyed you nestling in your cake as if it’s your bed which it technically is. He shook his head in disappointment as all you could mutter out were soft meows. “What am I ever going to do with your idiocy?”

“Meow~”

His heart falters at your meows. He couldn’t deny the unbearable adorableness, yet he would never express it to keep his ego intact.

Ruan Mei did assure him the effect would wear off in 60 system hours, but could he really handle 60 system hours of this? He was certainly not thrilled knowing it would slumber his intellect. Although harsh and overly honest on the outside he did have a weakness inside of his heart for you. Ratio is just an impatient man who sounds like him who cannot keep up. He never meant to offend anyone by being honest. Needless to say he certainly enjoyed it when you nap on his lap while he engrosses himself in a good book.

I wanna start improving my writing and wording, plus i really don't know my writing style. I never had a style or anything. I was also mid writing Boothill and stopped cause idk what to do for him. I love you Aventurine ur my new obession. Still loyal to Jing Yuan. I do proof read once but that's all.

[saltpepperbeard]

OBLIGATORY COMPLETE OFMD SEASON 2 TEASER THOUGHTS AND SPECULATION POST™

Okay, to start off, I cannot BELIEVE we got this. I cannot BELIEVE we got a voiceover of Stede's note to Ed. We were all thinking it. We were all hoping for it. I CANNOT BELIEVE WE LEGITIMATELY GOT TO SEE AND HEAR HIS LOVE RIGHT OFF THE BAT. HE LOVES HIS ED SO SO MUCH.

Followed by this shot right as Stede is narrating. It's difficult to tell, but it seems like Ed??? The one-armed jacket and the fact that it's layered with Stede's narration makes me quite certain it's him. But ALONE??? AND COMING OUT OF THE SURF??? (There's a shot later that has me PARTICULARLY raising eyebrows at this moment. I'm thinking that he fell off the boat/was lost in that one storm shown later, and Stede of course is going to dive in after him or attempt to get to him in some sort of dramatic way. Which makes me think he and Stede are going to potentially talk feelings/reconcile on the beach)

And the fight choreography of this. Are you actually kidding me right now. ARE YOU KIDDING ME. GETTING TO SEE ED ABSOLUTELY KICKING ASS IN COMBAT??? NEVER IN A THOUSAND YEARS DID I EXPECT TO SEE A SHOT LIKE THIS BUT I'M HOLLERING SO HARD OVER IT (NOT TO MENTION, AGAIN, LOOKING AT THIS AND A LATER SHOT..........I'LL SCREAM ABOUT MY THOUGHTS WHEN SAID SHOT APPEARS HSKDLS)

Oh, they're PINING pining. They're YEARNING yearning. They're GAY gay.

They want to be back with each other so so so bad I'm losing my mind <3

"Fuck you, Stede Bonnet." The way he's JUST as dramatic as we were all thinking. The way he's hurting in a way WE ALL ANTICIPATED. LIKE, YOU HATE TO SEE IT, BUT MAN DSJKLDSSDKL. Also, the contrast of him saying that vs Stede's voice over is so so insane. The editors are INSANE FOR THAT ONE.

AGAIN, GOING BONKERS OVER ED'S CHARACTERIZATION BECAUSE HE SEEMS EXACTLY HOW I ANTICIPATED. Outwardly, angry, hardened, and cold. Inwardly, heartbroken, desperate, and wanting nothing more than to be back with Stede. Because hello, HELLO, HE'S NOTCHED WHAT I ASSUME TO BE HIS NUMBER OF DAYS WITHOUT STEDE IN THE WALL??????

HI OLU HELLO OLU MY DEAR DARLING OLU

but also screaming and crying and throwing up because this is ALSO what i was anticipating/hoping for. the crew being like "ummmmm lmao captain?? you really think you've got this under control???"

"You think Blackbeard's going to murder you?" I THINK NOT BECAUSE WHAT IS HE EVEN SHOOTING AT JSLDKS. OFF TO THE SIDE??? A WARNING SHOT????? Also the lighting of this and his look matches the ending shot so I'm very eyes emoji at this entire thing.

HOWEVER...

"MURDERER THRICE OVER?????????????"

Like sorry, that sign won't stop me because I can't read. Look at him. LOOK at him. You're telling me he stole the wedding cake toppers so he could PAINT HIMSELF ON THE BRIDE??? SO HE COULD MAKE HIMSELF INTO THE BEAUTIFUL BRIDE HE WANTS TO BE????? SO THAT HE COULD PLAY PRETEND MARRIAGE BETWEEN HIMSELF AND STEDE???????

INSANE!!!

INSANE FOR THIS!!!!!!

Again, bonkers editing. The split screen. The CONTRAST between Stede's hopefulness and Ed's depression. The WAY THEY LINED IT UP TO MAKE ED LOOK LIKE HE'S TAKING AIM AT STEDE. THE WAY THIS PROBABLY PERFECTLY ENCAPSULATES THEIR CHARACTERIZATION IN THE FIRST FEW EPISODES HSDJKLSDS LIKE BITING THE EDITORS BITING THEM BITING THEM

ALSO ED AND ALL OF HIS GUNS,,, NINE GUNS???????

It kills me because he's probably being exactly what he thinks people see him as. He's probably like "Oh, you want a monster? I'll give you a monster."

WHICH,,,, NO, HONEY. YOU'RE A SWEETHEART, SORRY ABOUT IT.

AND THEN LOOK AT THEM. LOOK AT OUR DARLINGS!!! FANG'S FUCKING SPIKES ARE SO METAL. FRENCHIE'S WOLVERINE COSPLAY SHDJKLSHDLKS. JIM!!! JIM JIM MY BELOVED JIM, AND THEIR PAINTED BEARD. THEIR GENDER!!!!!!!

Honey hsdksjds the drama of it all. THE DRAMA. CRASHING WEDDINGS TO DISRUPT LOVE BECAUSE YOUR OWN WAS DISRUPTED??? SIIIIIIRRRR THE THEATRICS, THE SPICE OF IT ALL

excuse me ma'am that is a gay man shdkjshkls THAT IS A GAY MAN. WHAT ARE YOU EVEN DOING,,,

kiss me instead like wtf

OKAY NOW THIS,,,

THIS.

PRESIDENTIAL ALERT: THE BABYGIRL IS FIGHHHTTTTIIIING

BUT IZZY WATCHING ON??? IZZY????????????

I have Genuine Thoughts™ about this. I have a feeling that the big arc/character development Con mentioned might pertain to him like, REALIZING what's important, and what Ed actually wants and needs. And a good chunk of that will be him realizing the consequences of his actions, and maybe potentially wanting to undo the damage. And also, in his Bitchy Izzy Ways™, he might also get very very tired of Ed's sulking/theatrics and want to rectify things for that reason too.

So I feel like he's going to sort of team up with Stede and show him the ropes for that reason?? So they ALL can work towards betterment???

WHICH IS NUTS LMAO. NEVER EVER EXPECTED THAT.

REGARDLESS, GO STEDE BABY GO!!!

HI REVENGE HELLO REVENGE PLEASE DON'T DO ANYTHING DRASTIC LIKE EXPLODE OR ANYTHING PLEASE BABYGIRL <3

yeah yeah the titties we've all seen them.

BUT AGAIN, AGAIN, STEDE OFF TO THE SIDE. STEDE WATCHING. STEDE LEARNING THE ROPES FROM THE MOST UNEXPECTED PERSON EVER SHDJKSDS LIKE WHAT!!!

AND HEEEEEEERE WE GO. HERE'S THE SHOT I WAS REFERRING TO EARLIER.

THE SAME BLACK SAND BEACH. FIGHTING THE BRITISH. ED AND STEDE. ED WITHOUT HIS MAKEUP ON. STEDE IN A DIFFERENT OUTFIT.

ARE THEY BOTH,,, FIGHTING TO GET TO EACH OTHER??? FIGHTING THROUGH CROWDS AND ENEMIES TO GET TO EACH OTHER'S SIDES???????

WHAT IF THEY FIGHT TO EACH OTHER AND THEN KISS HUH???

WHAT THEN.

HIIIIIIYYYAAAA JACKIE <33333

ALSO HELLO IS THAT THE SWEDE BEHIND HER???????

EXPLOSIONS FIRE EXPLOSIONS EXPLOSIONS FEELING VERY WEE JOHN CODED RIGHT NOW!!!!!!

AND THIS IS YET ANOTHER SHOT I WAS REFERRING TO EARLIER,,,

LIKE UHHHHHHHHHHHHH

WITH ED ON THE BEACH, AND THIS SHOT OF SOMEONE FALLING INTO THE WATER,,,,,,

I HAVE A FEELING THAT ED IS GOING TO DO SOMETHING THAT ENDS WITH HIM FALLING OFF THE BOAT. MAYBE HE TRIES TO SAVE SOMEONE???

if he fights to save stede from going overboard or something equivalent i'm going to eat all the tiles off my floor <3

LIKE IT'S BAD BESTIES. IT'S BAD. IT'S DIRE. THE WATER IS SO FUCKING HIGH AND THEY'RE IN A STORM AND JIM IS SCREAMING AND I AM ALSO SCREAMING!!!

But then also, LOOK AT FUCKING WEE JOHN!!! IN DRAG!!! HE'S A FUCKING MERMAID!!! JIM ISN'T A MERMAID???? WELL, THAT'S FINE--WEE JOHN IS!!! LIVING HIS BEST FUCKING LIFE!!!!! AND WHAT IF HE MADE THAT COSTUME HIMSELF SJDKSDJLS <3

AND THE FINAL SHOT I'M CHOOSING, THE FINAL ONE OF THE SET,,, MATCHES UP WITH THAT LIGHTING EARLIER.

WHO ARE WE FIGHTING, ED BABE. WHAT'S THE TEA. WHO ARE YOU CLOBBERING.

IS IT US?

IT'S PROBABLY US.

BECAUSE THIS ENTIRE THING HAS ME SO SO SO DEAD Y'ALL

[m0nnypie]

hii! can you write something similar to ur dating deku but ur bkg’s sister but flipped? as in dating bkg but being deku’s sister <3 thank u!!

SORRY FOR BEING SO LATE! I was so busy that I forgot to post this 😭😭😭 but here it is!!! Hope u likeee it

DATING KATSUKI (BEING DEKU'S SIS)

Warnings: just Katsuki being his usual stupid, 'n Deku a brother who love u a lot.

Bro!Deku x Sis!reader, Katsuki Bakugou x fem!reader

_ Well, everyone knows that you've known each other since you were kids. I mean, if Katsuki was Deku's friend, how could he not know you?

_ Your relationship was good, I mean, he was what you called a hero. Silly, right? But can you blame kids? They always see the good side of things. And that's how it was with the blond. You saw him as someone who, despite being a bit temperamental, was your knight in shining armor. He protected you from bad people, he was a true hero, as you said.

_ But of course that changed. You presented your quirk, about a month after him. You were happy, you played together more, you tried to figure out how your quirk worked, great, right? But over time, you could tell that he was developing a feeling of revulsion, maybe? For your beloved brother.

_ You were worried, I mean. It was already past the normal time for people to develop their quirk, and so far your brother hasn't shown any sign of having one. So, when your mother came back from the doctor, you saw her crying, you saw your brother crying. Your first instinct was to run to Katsuki. But as soon as you told him, you saw something change in his eyes.

_ It didn't take long for you to find out that your brother was being bullied, you wanted to kill whoever was doing it. And to your surprise, it was your precious friend Katsuki. Of course, when you asked him why, he said something like "he's scum, that's what he deserves for being born that way" "you're lucky to have a quirk, or you would have to join your brother". After that, you beat him up so much that you had to have about 3 teachers separate you from Bakugou.

_ You warned him many times to stay away from Izuku, but he never listened. You always ended up getting into a lot of fights. Fights that drove your brother crazy with worry, because you always ended up getting hurt. But no matter how many times Izuku asked you to stop, you always said that you would rather die than let anyone touch your brother.

_ It didn't take long for you to go to U.A. What surprised you was your brother's quirk. You just figured he was a late bloomer, that's all. Meanwhile, you could see the blond fuming with rage, not that you cared.

_ On the first day, as soon as you met for the first time, you stared at each other for long minutes. You could tell there was something more in the way he looked at you, something he wanted to say. But he simply stopped looking at you and bumped into your shoulder. Making you angry.

_ The day he was kidnapped, you had a panic attack. The only person who knows about it is Uraraka, she was the one who helped you calm down. You also went with him to save Katsuki, even though your brother didn't think it was safe. You just wanted your old friend to be okay, that's all.

“(Name) I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to go along…it could be dangerous.”

You understood him, really. He was worried, but he had recently discovered his own quirk. You’ve had yours for years, you trained for it.

“Izuku, I trained for years to get into U.A, and Katsuki is someone who has been part of my life for years…you’re not going to be the one to stop me from going to save him.”

He could see the desperation in your eyes, but he was so afraid of something happening to you. He knew that if he didn’t let you go along, you would find a way to go there. So he simply accepted.

_ After saving him, nothing really changed. He was still the same arrogant guy he always was. You often fought, being separated by Kirishima, your brother, or Aizawa. You often got lectured for it.

_ Because you fought a lot, you were often paired up to improve your companionship. And it never worked out, because one moment Aizawa was watching you, and the next he saw Katsuki blowing your face off, and you punching him in the face and pulling his hair.

_ Over time, you learned to live together again. It wasn't that you were best friends, you still fought a lot. But your relationship with him improved to the point where you could work with him without strangling him to death. Not that you didn't want to.

_ The rest of the year was hard for all of you. After Katsuki basically died, and you almost passed away due to a punctured lung, you changed completely.

_ He even apologized to you, which certainly surprised you. But you forgave him, you didn't see any point in resenting him anymore, not after what happened. You started spending a lot more time together after that.

_ Which didn't last long, because Izuku wouldn't let you go. It's not that he didn't trust Bakugou, he just...cared about you. And of course, his clinginess irritated you, which made you fight.

_ As strange as it may seem, it was Katsuki who comforted you, in his own way of course. He basically gave you a portion of the spicy food he had made for himself, and kept telling you how stupid it was for you to cry over stupidity. Neither of you knew it, but that day something more blossomed between you.

_ At first, you only went out together in the company of others, never alone. That changed when you had to do the dorm shopping. You realized that it was much nicer to be alone than to hang out with others. Not that you didn't like them, but everything was so much simpler when it was just with the blond. You liked the comfortable silence between you, as well as the common taste for many things.

_ So, from the end of the second year, you started going out more. Obviously, this didn't go unnoticed by the green-haired boy. Once, he even followed you with the help of Uraraka, Mina and Denki. What went wrong, because Katsuki got angry and blew them up, and you stayed in the corner eating your ice cream, because if you had Bakugou to do the dirty work, why lift a finger?

_ You were as close now as you were when you were kids. When you started calling him by his first name again, even though he wouldn't admit it to himself, he died of nervousness inside. I mean... that should mean something, right?

_ You went on an official date, only after the end of school. Because even though you two were developing feelings that you were too cowardly to admit, you two wanted to focus on the goal of becoming heroes.

_ In the 4 years after U.A, you had a few relationships. Nothing that would leave a big mark on your life, but it certainly did leave a mark on Bakugou's life.

_ When you were 19, you started to distance yourself a little from him. Obviously, this didn't go unnoticed by him. He hated doing it, but he went to your brother to ask why. And when he heard that you were dating, he was (????). How come you were dating? Oh, for some reason he hated your boyfriend.

_ He saw every breakup you had, not that you were close enough for him to know how you felt. But Mina would make everyone go out for drinks, watch a movie, or even stay home, to support you because of the breakup.

_ At 22, a month after your breakup, everything was great, until it wasn't. You were on one of your daily patrols, until by chance you ended up running into your ex-boyfriend, the one who made your life hell when you were dating.

_ You did everything you could to make him go away, and as much as you wanted to send him to hell and beat him up, you couldn't. That's because your PR team would kill you. But like a demon disguised as an angel, Katsuki showed up.

_ He simply came up to you, asking if you were excited about your date today. And to make it even better, he pulled your waist close to his. And of course, he looked at your ex with that mocking face.

_ Then it was hard to explain to your PR team that this was a mistake. Which was denied by Katsuki who said he would take you on a date. He said that, and left you there, open-mouthed along with your team.

_ Of course Mina FREAKED OUT about it. She seemed more excited than you. She literally arranged everything, chose your outfit, hair and everything she thought would look good on you.

_ The date was great, it was at a small spicy food restaurant that you used to go to back in U.A., and of course your fans and his went crazy, that place was packed the next day.

_ One date became two, which became three and then became many. You missed going out with Katsuki, and so did he. Anyone who looked at you could say that you two had never seen so happy in each other's company.

_ It's obvious that your brother didn't like it much at first, not that he didn't trust Katsuki!! But after you had your heart broken several times... he was afraid. He even threatened Katsuki that if he hurt you, he would end ruin hid life (Katsuki took it seriously, especially since you were Deku's sister).

_ After 7 months, you were finally dating. Even though your friends thought you should just get together, you thought it was better to get to know each other again. And it was amazing, every moment. The kiss shared under the cherry tree you used to climb as children, the wonderful meals Katsuki made, every moment you had with him was incredible.

_ At 27, all of his fans found out he was married. That's because, after being away for 3 months and then coming back with a ring in his hand, they started to suspect, and he confirmed it.

_ As strange as it seemed, you wanted to keep the relationship under wraps for a while. You wanted to be able to enjoy each other, without anyone getting involved. And finally, the day you revealed you were married, it was a mess. Your PR team, certainly hate you guys.

_ Of course you had the support of all your friends. All of them talking about you in interviews. Especially Deku, who talked about you as if he were talking about angels (?), he loved to say how much Katsuki loved you, and how even in front of everyone he was rude and annoying, when he was with you he was a cute little cinnamon roll (he freaked out with Deku after that), and also how amazing you were, that you always supported him, and that he knew that if you were there, Katsuki would be in good hands.

_ You loved him, even though he was often complicated and extremely annoying and stupid. And he loved you, even though he often tried to distance himself, even though he tried to run away from love. Your 'n his greatest achievement was your relationship.

HEYYYY! if y'all like it, I can do a fic with the part that bakugou says to reader about the date, then I'll do gender neutral if y'all prefer

[seeingivy]

you belong with me

satoru gojo x f!reader

**part of my satoru as taylor swift songs series

content: high school!au, gojo is a robotics nerd, reader is class president, emo nanami (my beloved), toji is ur shitass football playing boyfriend, typical cheesy highschool drama

an: tell me why posting this is giving me a tummy ache like I haven't posted for gojo in forever and now i think I suck at it :OOO anyways, please be nice to me about this and close your eyes if you hate it. also, totally reliving my high school days when I was senior class vice president (worst experience of my life) FDLJFKDSJFLS

--

You’re a hater. A self proclaimed, real-life, deep in your soul hater. 

What do you hate today? Being class president. 

You hate that you willingly ran, somehow won, had people up your ass all day about stuff that wasn’t in your control, and got stuck in the current situation you were in. Which was arguing with your boyfriend Toji, as you pace around your room and do your own fair share of screaming back. 

“You just did that shit because you were pissed at me.” 

“I did not, Toji. You know, not everything is about you. Other people needed the money and I put it where it was needed.” 

“To the color guard team? Babe, no one gives a fuck about the color guard team. Everyone is at the homecoming game to watch the football team. Not a bunch of idiots waving flags in the air.” 

“They’re also part of the game and all their equipment is broken. They need it more than you when you guys literally get donors and funding from the district and-”

“You’re just pissed about the sweetheart thing. That’s why you’re doing this shit and taking it out on everyone else.” 

“Toji, I’m not even mad about-” 

You’re met with the sound of ringing over the phone, signaling that Toji had enough and finally hung up on you. You flop straight onto your bed, pushing your face so hard into your pillow that sits uncomfortably against your nose and the smell of your laundry detergent makes its way to the crevices of your brain.

You hear a banging behind you and twist around to see Gojo pointing at his walkie-talkie, switching it on as you reach for yours. It’s still covered in glittery pink stickers from when you were seven, the silver coming off on your hand every time you grab it. 

“Come in, bunny.” 

“Loud and clear, Toru.” 

He smiles, setting his hardware down - probably for another weird ass robot he was making - as he holds it up to his face, talking again. 

“You okay?” 

“Yeah. Just arguing with Toji, again. I’ll start allocating some of our funds to get you some sound proof windows.” 

“Much appreciated, Madam President. That’s very generous of you.” 

You laugh, dropping the walkie talkie to lift your fingertips to your temples, lightly massaging the pulsating under your skin. 

“For what it’s worth, the color guard team is really grateful you did that for them. I know Utahime was so excited when the new flags came in, she was flipping them around on the field for hours.” 

“That’s why it’s even more annoying. I know what I did was right, but he just doesn’t see it that way. Uta dragged me down to the field to watch them and their choreography looks so much better with the multicolored flags. They were really happy about it.” 

“Heavy is the head that wears the crown?” 

“Heavy is the head that’s dating Toji Fushiguro.” 

He laughs as you switch your channel off, taking the last few seconds to study you before you draw your curtains. He can see the tension sitting in your shoulders and how clearly it hurts you to argue with Toji like this. And it infuriates him. That you even have to go to sleep angry and that the cause is the headass idiot you’re dating. 

Toji Fushiguro is lucky, far more lucky than he realizes. Not for obvious reasons. Yeah, he’s a great football player and yeah, he’ll probably get scouted for some really good university at the end of the year. He doesn’t have a shortage of friends or intelligence and for all intents and purposes, he’s loved (which Gojo doesn’t understand at all). 

He’ll probably be that scumbag that people see a few years down the line and then get infuriated at. Because if an absolute asshat like Toji Fushiguro can be successful, then truly all things have gone to shit. That the patriarchy is real, that society is broken, living proof that the asshole always wins and everyone else always loses. 

But no, those are common reasons to hate Toji Fushiguro - ones he’s heard echoed by Suguru and Shoko every time he does something that pisses the two of them off. Like scream obscenities in the hallways, block their parking spots when they’re going to class, call them names when they walk by. 

No. Toji Fushiguro is lucky because he gets to date you. Because out of the long list of girls he had to pick one, Toji just had to pick the one that was his. The girl he’s been in love with since he moved in right across the street and had a smiley neighbor excitedly waving at him through her bay window. 

To him, love has always been the pigtail braids you used to wear everyday in the fourth grade, the matching walkie-talkies you bought him in sixth grade when he got grounded, and that sweet smile you’ve had since the first day he’s met you. 

And when he sees those green curtains pulled against the bay window he’s stared at for years, where he’s loved you from for years, he lifts the walkie and says what he forgot to mention. 

I love you.

--

Thanks to your gracious ride, you make it to school thirty minutes early. Your intuition - that Toji was ditching you as your ride to school this morning - was correct. Luckily, you made it in time just before class started. 

Nanami’s already seated on the green bench outside the classroom, headphones plugged into his ears. As you walk up, you silently wonder how much hair gel it takes to keep his Gerard Way hairstyle in place. 

“Hi Kento! How is my best friend doing on this fine morning?” 

“We’re not best friends.” 

“Sure we are!” 

You reach forward and pinch his cheek in your hand, which he only swats off and rolls his eyes at. That’s how you know your best friends. Because if it was anyone else, Nanami would probably break their hand and walk away. But he always lets you tease him, because he know he loves you. 

“Are you still fighting with that dog?” 

“That dog has a name. And it’s Toji. And I’m not sure, he didn’t pick me up for school this morning.” 

“Did he at least tell you he wouldn’t?” 

“No. I was lucky enough that Satoru had walked Megs to the bus stop a little late and I was able to get a ride with him.” 

Nanami looks over, narrowing his eyes at you, as the hallway starts getting crowded with people. And you know what he’s saying, what he’s been saying for the past few months. 

“You know, it’s very normal to give your neighbor a ride when they need one. Not everything has ulterior motives, Kento.” 

“That’s true. Everything doesn’t have ulterior motives. But he does. I’ve seen how he looks at you.”

“How does he look at me, Kento?” 

“Like he’d kiss the ground you’d walk on.” 

You roll your eyes, reaching up to mess up his perfectly styled hair. It doesn’t budge and you get a handful of minty smelling hair gel.

“As if.”

Like you’ve summoned him by bringing him up, Satoru’s sidestepping to where you and Nanami are sitting, Shoko and Getou in tow with him. 

“Nanami~~ How’s my best friend doing?” Satoru says, bending over to totally obscure Nanami’s line of vision.

“Shut the fuck up, Gojo.” Nanami responds. 

Nanami stands up, giving you a look, before he stalks away to his next class. Leaving you, Satoru, Shoko, and Getou standing in front of your classroom.  

“So. I hear you have a robotics competition?” you ask.

“Yeah. Next Saturday. We always practice our hardware out the night before, throw a little party in the lab. You should come.” Getou says, smiling at you. 

Satoru smacks Getou in the stomach right after he invites you, clearly trying to tell him something with his eyes. And then when he catches you staring, he gives you a nervous laugh. 

You get it. He doesn’t want you there.

“Don’t act too excited to see me now, Satoru. Anything more and I might think you like me.” you bite sarcastically.

“What? No, it’s not like that. I just-” Satoru stutters, 

“So you don’t like me?” you say, smirking at him. Shoko and Getou are laughing, the tips of Satoru’s turning pink as he very adamantly tells you that he does indeed like you. 

“I have stuff to set up for the homecoming game that day, so I won’t be able to. But I’ll try my best, yeah?” 

“Okay. Next time?” Getou asks. 

“Sure, Sugar-u. I’ll see you guys around, yeah?” 

You give the three of them a polite smile as you trudge away, leaving to meet Toji at his locker and give him a piece of your mind for this morning. Which leaves Shoko and Getou to give Satoru the scolding of his life. 

“Are you fucking stupid, Satoru? You made it seem like you didn’t want her there.” Shoko says, smacking him on the back of the head. 

“I panicked! Plus, Haibara always likes to play Just Dance and I’d rather not embarrass myself in front of her.” Satoru responds, rubbing the now sore spot on the back of his head. 

“You’re hopeless, Satoru. She’s never going to like you if you keep rejecting her the way you do.” Suguru says, dragging him along to the robotics lab. 

“She has a boyfriend. Who isn’t me. As if she would even consider dating me in the first place.” 

And when the three of them pass you by the lockers, clearly getting yelled at by Toji, it only furthers their argument more. 

“Yeah, I’m sure she really loves him, Satoru.” 

--

Your argument with Toji hours prior simmers in your head, as you wait for the bus to arrive and for this godforsaken day to finally be over. You watch him pile into his car with Salma and the other boys from the football team, which only makes your anger fester more. 

He’s doing this to piss you off. Of course, he’s doing this to-

“Need a ride?” 

You look up and unclench your fists to find Satoru, sparkly blue eyes shining at you and a hand held out to you. 

“Thanks.” 

He leads you to his car, an almost demolished Honda Civic from his maniacal driving, and you climb in, immediately putting your head in your hands. You can feel him moving around you, the engine purring on and him backing out of the spot. 

“About earlier. I don’t not want you to come to the robotics thing. I just thought it was awkward the way he asked you and I-I didn’t want you to feel obligated to come, you know? And I-I’d like it if you came too and so would the rest of us.” he rambles, a hand in his hair. 

You look up, his ears tinted pink from the confession. 

“I was just teasing you, Satoru. I’ll try to make it by, okay?” 

He sighs, a clear breath of relief, and looks over to smile.

“Okay, cool cool cool. Now tell me why you and Toji are fighting.” 

“When aren’t we fighting?” you murmur, pressing your head against the glass. 

“But why?” 

And when you look over, his blue eyes staring into yours, in earnest while the light is red, you unload it all. 

“Do you know about the sweethearts thing they do at the homecoming game?” 

“Uh. That’s when the cheerleaders wear the jerseys right. And then decorate the locker room or some shit for the players.” 

“Yeah. Well, it’s not limited to cheerleaders. It usually is, but if you’re dating someone, that person can do it for you.” 

“So I’m guessing Toji doesn’t want you to do it for him.” 

“Not exactly. He was just saying that it’s more traditional for a cheerleader to do it since they’re also on the side of the track and he wants to see his name out there instead of running around, trying to make sure the game is running and all that.” 

You slump into the chair as Satoru frowns, a pitying look in his eyes, as he keeps driving. You can’t help but watch him, his silhouette against the window - defined jaw, the slope of his nose. 

He’s not the guy who ran away from kissing you in the eighth grade. He’s just ten times hotter. 

You shake your head, letting the thought spill from your mind, as Satoru looks over. 

“Jamoca?” he says, giving you a wide grin. 

You can’t help but laugh, nodding as Satoru makes a sharp left turn, making his way to the ice cream shop. 

Jamoca is your favorite ice cream flavor. Coffee, layered with fudge and almonds, became a proclaimed favorite when Satoru dragged you once in the sixth grade. After very sorely losing the class president battle, you moped in your room for five days - even going as far as borrowing one of Nanami’s My Chemical Romance vinyls to truly and properly mope. 

On day three of blasting the vinyl, Satoru called enough and dragged you to the closest ice cream store, claiming it was the closest thing to therapy that you normies could afford. Since then, any bad day was easily solved with two things. 

Jamoca and Satoru. 

When you make it to the store, Satoru’s excitedly dragging you out of the car, his hand pressed in yours as you both run into the store, giggling while you order your single scoops. And when he drags you out to the curb and you sit there, you silently think to yourself why you ever stopped doing this in the first place. 

Satoru leans over, digging his chocolate fudge covered spoon into your cup, before talking. 

“So. If you guys fight so much, why are you still dating?” 

“Dunno. Feels weird to initiate a breakup, I guess. I can’t see myself doing it.” 

“Even when he wants other girls to be his sweetheart?” 

“Even when he wants other girls to be his sweetheart.” 

You kick the pebbles into the broken parts of the pavement, leaning your elbows on your knees. 

“I don’t know, Toru. I guess he was just the first guy who ever liked me back and then I….spent so much time in the relationship and trying to make it work that it feels weird to let it go now.” 

Satoru swallows hard, eyeing his melting ice cream, as he ponders the best response. Because in earnest, he has two options. Support you or be selfish. Support you to stay with Toji, to do what you’ve been doing because he knows it’s what you want. Or be selfish. Tell you that he you deserve better, that he could be that for you if you just let him. 

He reaches over, flicking you in the forehead. 

“Ouch, asshole.” 

“You’ve got a really big brain in there. And you always have. You’ll figure out the right thing to do, just give it time.” 

And when you give him a halfhearted smile, reaching over into his cup for a bite of his ice cream, he lets it go. 

He can’t be selfish. Not when it comes to you anyways. 

--

After running around all day, you give yourself thirty minutes to go to Satoru’s robotics thing. After triple checking the microphones work, the yearbook team has access to the field, the glitter has been set out for everyone trickling in, and that everyone who could possibly need your phone number has it, you speed run to the other side of campus, to the robotics lab. 

And when you make it, the five of them - Haibara, Nanami, Shoko, Getou, and Satoru - are in the room playing Just Dance. Shoko’s sitting on top of the desk, flippantly moving her remote in the air, while Satoru quite literally is trying to give it all he’s got - and losing apparently. 

You lightly push the door open, which stops the two of them in their tracks, and you’re met with some very excited cheers as they all drag you into the room. You take a seat next to Nanami, giving his cheek a pinch, which he hates. 

“You’re Haibara, right?” 

“You know who I am?” 

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re friends with Nanami and Nanami and I are best friends.” 

“No we aren’t.” responds Nanami, now sulking two seats away from you. 

“Are too.” 

You throw the nearest object, a pencil at Nanami, as you turn back to Haibara and laugh. 

“I like your shirt. Flight of the Navigator is a really good movie.” 

You see Satoru, Shoko, and Suguru’s eyes widen in the back at your words and hear a considerable amount of groaning from Nanami behind you. And after twenty minutes, you find out why. 

Haibara really, really loves Flight of the Navigator. Almost too much. In earnest, you barely remember the movie - at most, maybe the weird little alien companion he has. But here Haibara is, reciting the cast, the directors, acting out the scenes and it’s clear to you that you’ve tapped into some monster they all keep hidden. 

Luckily for you, Satoru comes to your rescue. 

“Okay, Haibara. I’m going to steal her for you for some Just Dance.” 

“I don’t Just Dance Satoru.” 

“Oh yeah? You’re just saying that because you know you’re going to lose.” 

You scoff, knowing exactly what he’s doing. 

“As if, sweetheart. I distinctly remember you banning us from ever playing that game together after I beat you in the fifth grade.” 

“You’re rusty. Maybe we’ll start with something easy. Like Rasputin.” 

“I could do Rasputin in my sleep, bitch.” 

“Prove it.” 

You roll your eyes as you march over to the front, where they’re projecting the game onto the screen. And just for posterity’s sake, you take Satoru’s sunglasses from where they were flipped over on the desk and put them on, effectively blinding yourself from the screen. 

And when the songs start, you can hear them all laughing behind you, Satoru and you hurling insults at each other as you dance on. And somewhere around the middle, you’re sure Satoru must be losing because he grabs your hands and suddenly he’s swinging you around in the air, his hands on your waist as you laugh. 

And when you take your blindfold off and the song dies down, Satoru wins by five points. 

“You asshole. You literally cheated, Satoru.” 

“Did not. You’re just a sore loser, bitch.” 

“You kiss your mom with that mouth?” 

“Every night, sweetheart.” 

You put the palm of your hand in his face as you push him away, moving to sit on the desk. He joins you, the two of you now watching Haibara and Nanami have a very one sided dance battle. 

After forty-five minutes, Satoru’s phone buzzes three times and the smile on his face drops when he checks. You place your hand on his, squeezing twice before asking. 

“You okay?” 

“Huh. Oh, yeah. I-I think you should go to the field. Right now.” 

“Wait, what? But you hate that kind of-” 

He grabs your hand, dragging you out, as you both start running to the field. You keep asking as he pulls you on, getting almost no response and only a faster pace. 

And when you reach the field, you catch just the end of it and the only thing grounding you to that moment is Satoru and Utahime, who was surely the one who had texted Satoru, holding onto your shoulders. 

Salma, the cheerleader Toji picked to be his sweetheart, just asked him to homecoming during halftime. And he said yes. 

Utahime squeezes your hand three times, a soft look in her eyes when she talks. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I just thought you would want to know and I wanted to tell you because you’ve been nothing but nice to me.” 

You smile, moving into her open arms as you whisper a small thank you into her shoulder. She leaves, having to return to the color guard team waiting for her on the side, leaving you and Satoru standing on the pavement right by the field. 

“Take you home?” 

“Thanks, Toru.” 

“You want Jamoca?” 

“Not today.” 

He nods, a hand on the small of your back, as he leads you to his car, even going as far as opening the door for you and letting you crack the windows while you drive back - which you know he hates. 

At the first red light, he taps on the top of your head to get your attention. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” 

“Do you think there’s something wrong with me?” 

“What? Of course, not. Toji is just an asshat who doesn’t see you for what you’re worth and-” 

“No. No, no. Not like that. Do you think there’s something wrong with me because I’m not even the tiniest bit sad right now? I’m…relieved.” 

Satoru looks over, the red front the traffic light flashing on your face, and a blank expression staring back at him. 

“Of course, not. He’s a grade one idiot. Anyone in your position would feel that way, bunny.” 

“I know. That’s true.” 

“But?” 

“Does this make me defective, Satoru? Like, maybe I just can’t like people that much or something and I was the problem.” 

Satoru twiddles his thumbs on the steering wheel, pondering the same question he has been asking for the past few days. Encourage her or be selfish. 

He can’t be selfish with you. 

“Okay, Y/N. Close your eyes.” 

“Huh?” 

“Just do it.” 

“Okay.” 

He looks over, to find you eyelids fluttering shut, your face lit up by the streetlights outside.

“Now. Tell me about your dream guy, bunny.” 

“What are you going on ab-” 

“Just do it.” 

You sigh, before thinking hard about his question. 

“Someone I can be comfortable with. That’s my type. Like we can have fun together and play games but also being around them is comforting to me. Things might suck, but at least they are there to kind of pick me up at the end of the day. They’re nice to people and are surrounded by good company, because you are who you love and they try to be better each day.” 

After finishing, you open your eyes to find Satoru staring at you, an all-knowing look on his face. 

“Bunny?” 

“Toru?” 

“Does that sound anything like Toji to you?” 

You slump back into your chair, sinking down. 

“No.” you murmur. 

“You aren’t defective. Well, maybe in the higher level cognitive thinking part because you clearly have some impaired decision making but-” 

“Hey. Don’t be rude, asshole.” 

“Get out of the car.” 

You crane your head out the window to see you’re in fact not at your house, but at the ice cream store. And when he comes around to your side of the car, opening your door, he drags you out, the two of you eating you ice cream in the light of the dingy lamp outside the store. 

--

You knock hard on your window, only stopping when Satoru looks up from his desk, dropping the pencil he was just scribbling with. You point to your walkie talkie, switching on the channel as he grabs his. 

“Hi bunny. You look nice.” 

“Thank you. Are you coming tonight?” 

To homecoming. Because despite all odds and last night, you still have to go. And crown the homecoming king and queen since you’re the class president, which you’re sure will be Salma and Toji since the universe is very, very kind to you. 

“I’m sorry. Haibara needed help designing something for next week.” 

“Oh. Okay. I wish you were.” 

“I wish I was too. His hardware is Flight of the Navigator themed so wish me luck.” 

You laugh, giving him one last smile as he pulls the curtains to his window. And when you see his navy windows against the pane you’ve stared at him through for years, it only now occurs to you. 

When he asked you to describe that last night, he unlocked something. Bringing it to your attention, to the forefront of your mind. 

The person you were describing is him. You lift your walkie talkie to your mouth, press the button, and mention the words you forgot to say. 

I love you.

And then you turn on your heel and drive yourself to the dance. 

--

Satoru ponders it for thirty minutes. 

Support her or be selfish. Support her or be selfish. Support her or be selfish. 

Be fucking selfish. 

Satoru gets up, dropping the hardware he was making for Haibara, and pulls out the first suit he can find. He grabs his walkie talkie off his desk, convinces Megumi to go beg your mom (who loves Megumi) for your walkie talkie, and then goes ninety on the freeway to get to the school on time. 

He finds Nanami first, the glob of gel on his head somehow even worse than normal and sets his plan in motion. 

“Nanami.” 

“Please, for the love of god, not tod-” 

“Go hand this to Y/N.” 

Nanami and now Shoko are taking the walkie in their hands, flipping it over and inspecting it like they’re the fucking FBI. And more importantly, wasting time. 

Three feet away, you’re standing by the punch table, counting how many balloons are on the ceiling. You reach three hundred and fifteen when you’re approached for the first time that night, by Nanami and Shoko. 

“Nanami. What is going on with your hair? You can’t possibly need that much hair gel.”

“You would be shocked, Y/N.” 

“That's what I said to him too. But this is for you.” Shoko says.

She hands you your walkie talkie, the silver glitter coming off on your hand, as you flip it over. 

“Did you break into my house, Shoko?” 

“No. But I’m guessing Satoru did. He ran in here five minutes ago and basically yelled at us to give it to you.” 

They both shrug as they walk away and you look around, clutching the walkie talkie so hard in your hand you think you might break it. Satoru’s here.

And when you scan your eyes around the room, you see him at the front door, his eyes already fixed on yours. He’s smiling so big that it makes your heart squelch and suddenly you’re moving towards him. And as you both start walking (running) to each other, you can’t help but feel the anticipation of what’s coming. 

Except that’s right when Toji stands in the middle of the two of you, his characteristic slimy, sneer on his face. He reaches for your hand first. 

“Can we talk, Y/N?” 

"No."

You shrug your hand off, pushing right past him, as you walk closer to Satoru. You can hear Toji shouting something at you, but you’re too tunnel visioned on Satoru to pay attention. And when you reach him, you’re both smiling so big at each other, that it makes your face hurt. 

He lifts his walkie talkie to his mouth, talking first. 

“Come in, bunny?” 

“Loud and clear, Toru.” 

“I love you.” 

You can feel yourself smiling so big, so excited that you’re basically jumping on your toes, your walkie shaking in your hand. 

“I love you.” 

“Oh thank god. I was scared I was going to get a breaking and entering charge.”

You laugh, pulling him down by his tie and kissing him square on his face. And when he pulls away, ears pink and face red, you whisper against his lips. 

“It was always going to be you. I belong with you.” 

He smiles, that stupid smile you’ve stared at, loved for years and you can’t help but cheese, leaning forward to kiss him again.

--

the satoru as taylor swift songs series masterlist

taglist: @porridgesblog @platrom  @k0z3me  @kayleegomez  @yihona-san06  @bsenpai @sweetenertea  @skzismyhome  @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters  @luna0713hunter @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @squirrelspoetry

[courtingchaos]

Ok, i thought i'd give you a few options.

Having to fuck your way out of a speeding ticket or a possession charge or something with gator

or

flashing Steve on a dare at a party because boobies

or

Eddie being a clueless, naive knob when his crush comes on to him in increasingly obvious and suggestive ways and he just can't put two and two together until she's forced to grab him and be like, hi. hello. I'm trying to fuck you here. please compute.

Sorry if these seem stale. I'm not the most creative and they're all smut because I'm a degenerate too. Love your writing :)

Eddie being a clueless, naive knob when his crush comes on to him in increasingly obvious and suggestive ways and he just can't put two and two together until she's forced to grab him and be like, hi. hello. I'm trying to fuck you here. please compute.

Eddie Munson x Fem Reader

A record store meet-cute with Indiana’s most oblivious guitarist.

Warnings: Blow job and fingering, that’s it that’s all have fun.

A/N: Okay look, for one? Not stale at all. Also, degeneracy supremacy for all. This did the trick and in fact I also wrote the Gator prompt too because that was fun. However Steven eludes me lately so while I wanted to make all the dreams come true, alas I could not. These might not be exactly what you were aiming for? But there’s smut? And they’re fun? Meh, thank you for sending these in friend! Also I think I inadvertently channeled my dearest @chestylarouxx with this one so you know it’s gotta be good.

Gator will get posted separately.

18 + NSFW No Minors

He’s in the store all the time, always on your shift and usually finding you with whatever question he has like when he can’t find a new release or someone has misfiled a vinyl. He asks your opinion on the new releases and laughs when you roll your eyes, a scoff thrown at a new Madonna single. He’ll give you a shocked look when you tell him that you do in fact like Heart and also when you try to explain the shared root between his beloved thrash and the current punk scene.

Despite his affection for arguments with you he persists with toothy grins and a constant promise to ‘show you some real music’ sometime. There’s an undercurrent with your conversations, a feeling of flirting, like when he pulls that chunk of hair across his face while he tells you about his band. He gets bashful when you show interest and ask if it’d be cool if you went and all you can imagine is that dark hallway in the back of the bar and what he might look like under that dimming, yellowing light. It earns you a short nod and one of those smiles, lips tight over his teeth while his dimples dig craters into his pink cheeks. He says he’d love it. Says he can’t wait to see you. Says he’ll let the guys know they’ve got a number one fan now.

So when you get to the end of said night, after the fairly big crowd and all his other friends have filtered out, after his band has almost put up most of the equipment, after he’s collected their cut of the entry fees, you linger. Sitting at the end of the bar with your beer that you’ve been nervously picking the label off of for 20 minutes, waiting on him to make his way over. He taps the bar top and thanks the owner and starts his meandering walk toward you, counting back ones from the roll in a practiced hand. He looks like all the little daydreams you’ve had while watching him wander around the record store, dark hair damp from sweat and curling around his ears. His thin tee clings to him like his jeans cling to him and your heart hammers at the thought of pulling him back those few feet into that blessed, dingy hallway.

“You guys put on a hell of a show.”

“Oh you think so?” He looks up from his money and grins at you, the only girl in the room it would seem. You nod and laugh and start to pluck up your courage when one of the waitresses walks out of the back and squeals before grabbing his bicep and squeezing.

“Oh my god Eddie! You did so good tonight!” You can see her nails pressing into his skin and how his cheeks flame at her praise and suddenly you think you maybe misread this whole thing. “I told you there were gonna be more people this weekend!” She pulls him down and into her space, her nose scrunched up with a big smile for him.

“Thanks Vic.”

“I told you Robin would work miracles with those posters.” She gives him a final squeeze and gets back behind the bar to tie her apron on. He watches her walk down the bar until she takes an order and his gaze slides back to you, a little sheepish.

“Sorry about that.” He shoves the wad of cash in his front pocket and leans on the bar next to you. “You enjoyed it though?” He gives you a wide eyed look, anticipation rounding out his bambi eyes.

“Yeah.” It comes out more clipped than you meant so you clear your throat and direct your gaze back at your peeled Budweiser label. “Yeah, exactly like you said it would be.” A wide smile that you don’t let hit your eyes. Eddie shifts a little, his demeanor softer than it was before, his post show swagger gone when he tilts his head down to try and catch your eyes glued to your bottle.

“You sure? You just seem-“

“I-I’m sorry, it’s actually just-before I came out tonight I found out I need to open so.” You rush it out at him, glancing at your watch and never once noticing the actual time. “I didn’t want to just leave, but I gotta get going I’m sorry.” You shrug at him, half apologetic while you dig a five out of your wallet and toss it on the bar. “Hopefully I’ll see you on Tuesday though? Souls of Black is coming out!” You toss that over your shoulder to give your abrupt departure a bit of a softer hit. Eddie yells something after you that you pointedly ignore and you try your hardest to not kick the door open into the muggy night.

Tuesday morning and you pull a cassette from the display to hold on to. Not like it’s flying out the door but you know Eddie will beeline for you first thing, no matter what far corner of the store you’re occupying. You keep it tucked into one of the pockets on your half apron so you don’t forget it and so you can pull a magic trick when he inevitably comes up and asks you even though he walked by the display.

Noon rolls by and you see nary a curl come through the front door. By 2 you’re hanging out at the register, a permanent fixture there while your coworker takes advantage of your fixation and putzes around in the back. At 4 you contemplate calling the police because this is the most strange behavior you’ve witnessed from Hawkins’s residential Weirdo and at 6, when you flip the sign over to tell everyone you’re closed, you start to think you might have fucked up. Carla, your coworker, reminds you of the cassette in your packet when you toss your apron at the register. A little crease between her eyebrows when she asks, “That for Eddie?”

“Yeah, I was gonna be funny and tell him I could pull stuff out of my ass.” You tell her with a dry laugh and stash the tape under the counter.

“He never misses a Tuesday.”

“Yeah, well, first time for everything.” You shrug.

5 PM Wednesday night brings a rainstorm to downtown and a drowning rat in the form of a drenched Eddie into your store. He shakes off like a Labrador in the doorway and grumbles when he has to peel his jacket off his clammy arms.

“Hey stranger.” You say behind a pop of your gum. Barely looking up from the rolling stone you’re reading when he stomps over to the new releases.

“You’re shitting me.”

“What?”

“There’s no god damn way a Testament album sold out in Hawkins.” He throws his arms up dramatically and lets them slap down onto his damp jeans. Again you barely look when you pick up the stashed tape and hold it aloft, waiting for him to finally turn around and see. “What, did Gareth come in here first and snag the only copy or something?” He snaps cases together angrily while he shifts through them and you almost tell him to quit pitching a fit but it’s a little fun watching him dripping all over the linoleum. His hair clings to his neck, his white ringer tee see through over his shoulder where the rain got in under his collar. You spare a moment to think about what the rain must taste like on him.

“Eddie.”

“Seriously! First my piece of shit van didn’t start yesterday again so I was late to the shop which in turn meant I didn’t get over here.”

“Ed.”

“And then this fucking storm shows up out of fucking nowhere and I’m fucking soaked and I don’t have my fucking tape-oh.” He turns, fist clenched in front of him like he’s tearing at invisible threads, and stops mid rant when he sees the rectangle in your hand. “Oh hello gorgeous.” He looks like he’s in love and he holds out his hands towards you, grasping your fist in both of his to gently shake it. You laugh at his dramatics and let out a yell when he hops onto the counter, ass planted directly on your magazine you were staring through.

“You’ve made me the happiest man in the world you know that?”

“I have that effect on a lot of guys.” A buff of your nails against your collar and Eddie huffs. He pulls his shoulders in and gives you a side eye that feels a little personal for a second.

“Well alright, statement still stands.” He reads the track list on the back, a slight squint of his eyes and you wonder briefly if he needs glasses. “You listen to it yet?”

“Psh, no.”

“Why not?”

Well, you’d had a plan since the terrible show night and you stomping out of there with your feelings hurt over nothing.

“No one else I know listens to them, thought you’d maybe like to listen to it together?” This is the most courage you’ve ever had, you think as you look up at him through your lashes. “It’s not like a big deal or anything but-“

“Can I borrow your phone?”

“What?”

“I mean yeah, obviously I’d love to listen together but I need to make a call first.” He flashes you that big smile again and you hand the store receiver over. That nervous knot that had begun to form in your stomach is all but gone with his revelation:

Obviously he’d love that.

Obviously! It’s been so obvious right? He’s your number one customer, he’d walked right for you in the bar, and now he’s vehemently agreeing to listening to this album with you, giddy with excitement.

“Hey! Jeff! Put your dick away we’re coming over.”

Jeff? Jeff his guitarist?

“No, I’m at the record shop I got it! Yeah, yeah she’s a real sweetheart she held a copy for me.” Eddie rolls his head to face you and gives you a wink. “I know, she’s the best right?”

Fucking Jeff? You stare at Eddie, dumbfounded, yet again questioning how you keep reading this man wrong. What part of ‘do you want to listen together’ qualified a third party?

“Yeah, we’ll be over after close.” Eddie hands you the phone to hang up and you go through the motions, turning your body away to stare at a spot on the counter so you can frown deeply without him noticing.

“This is gonna be great.” He claps his hands together before hopping down off the counter and pulling his wallet out to pay. “I can finally smoke you out like I’ve been promising.” He wiggles his eyebrows like he’s some kind of cartoon wolf and you feel like you’ve missed a step on the stairs. What is he doing? Is this flirting? Does he use Jeff as a pawn in his games or is he just not picking up what your putting down?

“Yeah, it’ll be great, can’t wait.”

The hang out at Jeff’s wasn’t awkward but you think something is broken in your brain with how off the mark you seem to be.

You’d been aloof with Eddie when he’d first started hanging around you in the shop, not sure how to take his overly forward approach but he’d grown on you quick and the banter was good. He lobbed the conversation back and forth with you with practiced ease and really it was destined for you to find him charming. With his dimples and his music taste and his tattoos it was inevitable that you’d spend your afternoons shooting glances out the window, waiting for him to breeze in with a joke or another long winded story that he’d loose the thread for halfway through. He’d apologize and you’d laugh and sometimes he’d blush at you and that feeling that you thought was there?

Maybe it wasn’t.

You weren’t being particularly subtle with him. Friendly flirting it may be but your touches always lingered longer on his forearm, your lashes always fluttered at his nicknames and your giggles were sprinkled freely for him through his visits. Standard faire ‘come get me, I’m yours’.

Once again at work, mindlessly alphabetizing and sending yourself into a doom spiral you hear the bell above the door ring and a quick glance up makes you pause.

It’s the whole band this time, Eddie in the lead and heading straight for you.

“What now?”

He stops in his tracks, hand flying to his chest in mock affront. “To your favorite customer?!”

Jeff snorts and Gareth and Frank roll their eyes and immediately wander off to the record bins.

“You come in here with a purpose, I need to brace myself.”

“It’s not even for me!” Eddie whines and leans on your cart full of tapes. His rings clack against the plastic casings and catch the overhead lighting, distracting you for a second. “It’s for Gareth, we need to know what you have for a Jazz section.”

“Jazz?” These men confuse you with every new turn. Gareth has already found what he was looking for though, sitting on the floor and flipping through aging cardboard sleeves.

“What does he know about Jazz?” You ask Eddie when he wanders back over with you.

“Oh he was the drummer for the jazz band in high school, you don’t remember that?”

“No, I wasn’t in band.”

“Ah.” He’s leaning on the fixture you need to reorganize but you don’t want to ask him to move, the sunlight shining in at just the right angle to light up his features. You could kick yourself with how enamored you sound, especially when he seems to be woefully uninterested in you and your flirting.

“Hey Eddie?”

“Hm?” He turns to look at you over his shoulder, brown hair gleaming like satin in the sun. His eyebrows hitch up and he tucks his lip between his teeth to worry at it. A thousand little fantasies about that lip glide through your thoughts and you decide to give it one last go.

“Would you like to go out for a drink sometime?”

His lashes flutter at you while he processes your question, his guard down with no witty response lined up.

“Oh like…like w-when?” He’s not meeting your eyes anymore, hands shoved into his jeans pockets. He shifts back to lean his weight on his other leg and leans away. He clams up and distances himself. “Because we’re free tonight after you close, but I know it’s a week night and you might be busy or whatever.” He cocks his head over to the other three grouped around the record crates and you realize it finally.

He’s letting you down soft. He doesn’t hate you, at least there’s that. He’d like to hang out sure, but there isn’t a romantic undercurrent like you’ve been imagining.

“Uh, yeah, tonight works.” You shrug and turn off your emotions. There was a brief prickle of heat behind your eyeballs but you stomp your foot down on that, converse pinning that feeling down like a moth in a frame. “Whenever though, I don’t want to interrupt your plans.” That roiling in your gut squirms under the pinprick and finally stills and you make sure your smile reaches your eyes this time. Eddie agrees and tells the guys and when they’re all standing at the register to check out you keep your cool. The countdown begins when you start typing in the prices, just ten more minutes before they’re on their way out and you can stand in the back and cry. You think about Carla giving you that sad little look and you know it’ll be a waterfall for sure.

“What fresh hell-“ Eddie yells and pushes the door open, red and blue lights flashing for a second before the cruiser engine shuts off. “Hey! I’m not parked illegally!” He shouts out at the deputy holding the windshield wiper of his van up, ticket clutched in his fist. When all Eddie gets is a blank stare he rushes out, leaving his friends staring after him.

“This’ll go over well.” Jeff sighs and hands you cash. “You’ll get to hear about this tonight for 8 hours.”

“About that. I might need to reschedule actually.” You can feel the cracks in the dam and you really don’t want to cry in front of these people.

“Oh?” Gareth gives you a side eye, something slick and calculating. Your eyes dart out the window to see Eddie gesturing at the signs on the street and you sigh heavy, handing their bag over to them.

“Yeah, I just forgot what uh, umm…” Trying to find a good excuse is impossible and he sees it on your face for what it is, an excuse.

“Oh my god Frank you owe me twenty bucks.” Gareth holds out his hand without looking at his friend. “I told you she didn’t have a boyfriend.”

“What.” That stops whatever waterworks were about to spring a leak. Gareth is smiling the biggest shit eating grin and suddenly Jeff and Frank are laughing while money is exchanging hands. “What are you talking about.”

“I’m so sorry to be the one to tell you this, but Eddie is the biggest fucking idiot.” Gareth laughs and pockets his money. “Like, I love that man but he has no idea what is going on.”

They aren’t laughing at you but you still feel rooted to the spot, and since none of them have started sharing this secret yet you start to get antsy. Jeff takes pity on you finally and tells you all about Eddie and his current fixation. He tells you about all the stories they’ve heard about you. How cool you are. How hot you are. How you’ll talk music with him like no one else and how you give only the best recommendations.

“You know he listens to New Order now because of you?” Jeff asks with a smile. “Like, great band but Eddie listening to them? He’s got it bad.”

You reel behind the counter while the three of them nod their heads sagely at you.

“He thought you had a boyfriend.”

“What?”

“When you left the other night after the show? He thought you picked up on him trying to flirt and got upset. I told him it was because it looked like Vicky was flirting but he was convinced he fucked up.”

“I thought-“ You don’t know what you thought because it hadn’t been anything actually. You had been jealous and it seemed like it was over nothing.

“Listen, you should still come out tonight. We can talk some sense into him if you want.”

“No.”

“No?” Jeff looks impressed.

“No, I can talk to him.” You run through your daydreams and your interactions. All his dumb jokes and how he looked after his show. You think about your hallway vision and what it might feel like to press him up against that wall and press a confession out of him. “I’ll talk to him.”

You don’t dress up for The Hideout. It’s dive bar chic only but tonight?

Tonight after you run back to your place to change, you dig out your black and white polka dot dress, the one you’d bought because Cyndi Lauper had made it look so good. It’s always sat a little short in the back, the buttons never coming up far enough in the bust for your confidence level but now it’s perfect. It flutters around your thighs and while you try not to poke yourself in the eye with your liner you think about Eddie’s fingers fluttering along with it. Maybe he’d be precious about it, a stuttering mess when you finally explain it to him in clear tones just what you were trying to do.

The whole drive over you imagine what his hair must feel like sliding between your fingers, what the stubble on his jaw would feel like grazing your knuckles, and you almost run two red lights. You’ve been stockpiling courage since the bands little conversation with you but when you finally pull into the parking lot and spot his van, you have a moment of doubt.

Right until he comes into view, leaning into his driver side with his ass sticking out, and it rushes back in tenfold. He doesn’t notice you park but you notice him futzing with his lighter, sad sparks sputtering around the end of his cigarette. Your kitten heels clack on the pavement and he only looks up when you’re almost on him, your own lighter held out in your palm. “Need a light?”

Eddie freezes, hands cupped around his face. You can tell he’s fighting the urge to let his gaze roam downward and you’re really hoping he gives into it. “I didn’t know we had a dress code tonight.” He mumbles around the filter and finally has enough of a thought to drop his hands and take your lighter. It strikes on the first try but you see the slight quiver of his hands when his eyes finally drop to the deep plunge of your dress.

“Oh this old thing? I hardly wear it.” You give him a half turn, just enough to make the hem ripple and he coughs on his inhale.

“It looks good. Y-you look good.” He’s a stuttering mess. “Um, if you want the guys are already inside I was just…” Eddie trails off when you take enough steps to crowd his space and he backs into his open door. The hinges squeak under the pressure and he scrambles to grab onto the frame with his free hand.

“Eddie?” You ask sweetly and he visibly swallows. “I don’t really want to drink with the guys.” You reach over and gently pull his cigarette from his fingers, mostly out of fear he might drop it in his van.

“Oh?” He’s taking short breaths the closer you get and when you lay your hands lightly on his chest you can feel his heart going a mile a minute.

“Mhm.”

The door creaks under his white knuckles and he seems to be holding on for dear life.

“I asked you out for a drink, but this is good too.” Inched close enough that your whisper ghosts over his lips before you close that short distance. That first breath in he smells like his half a cigarette and his aftershave. When his brain finally catches up to what you’re doing he gasps against your kiss, a move that you use to your advantage. Your hands find homes behind his neck to hold him close while your tongue pushes its way past his lips and he moans into your mouth. Here he taste like the beer he’s been drinking and tobacco and you start to get lost him.

He breaks the kiss before you can deepen it, breaths huffed across your face when he drops his forehead to yours.

“Ohhh, I’m a big idiot.” He laughs out in a whisper. “A big, big fuckin’ idiot.”

“No, just a little slow on the uptake.” You can’t resists the urge to slide your fingertips into his hair and the eye roll it gets you is divine.

“I can’t believe I wasn’t picking up on this, I thought I screwed up a few weeks ago-“

“Ed.” You slide your thumb over to rest on his lips. “It’s okay, it doesn’t matter.”

“I know but-“

“I’m serious.”

“I still feel stupid-“

“Get in the van.” You cut him off when you’ve heard enough. His eyes go wide before he gives one jerky nod of his head and quiet ‘yes’ and climbs in, disappearing between the seats to the back. You give one look around the parking lot before climbing in and closing the door behind you, any modesty long gone when you have to crawl into the back and you know your dress is bunched up around your hips. In the dark it takes you a moment before you can adjust but there’s a hand wrapped around the back of your knee pulling gently to bring you down to his level. You’ve barely got his outline made out before he’s pulling you in roughly by the leg, his other hand planting hard on the nape of your neck to bring you in for a kiss.

He’s less unsure in the back of his van, moving you around to situate you where he wants you and he lets you push him back against the hard floor once you’re settled in his lap. Your hands push up his shirt while his palms run up your bare thighs, bunching up the thin cotton of your dress till he hits the high cut of your underwear. His laugh turns into a groan when you move quickly down his neck leaving wet, open mouth kisses in your wake. You push his shirt up high and let your teeth drag against his nipple, the hitching in his chest making you smile against sensitive skin. His fingers slide under the edges of your underwear to grab at the fat of your ass and you slide your own fingers under his belt to pull it open.

“Oh hey, you don’t-“

“I don’t what?” The buckle clinks against his wallet chain and it all hits the floor with a heavy thud. “I don’t have to do this?” You tug at his button while holding his gaze and pull his zipper down quick. “Do you want me to do this?” A pause after you pull his jeans open so he can answer you.

His chest heaves but he smiles wide, tongue poking out to run along his bottom lip. “Yes.” He nods at your smile and keeps nodding when you pull his jeans down his hips and when your hand edges under the waistband of his boxers and when you crawl backwards out of his grasp. “Please.” He begs on a breath he started to hold when your dress slid up your hips as you bent down to place a kiss next to his bellybutton. “Please please please.” He chants when your hand wraps firmly around him, your smile pressing into the soft part of his belly.

“Please? Please what, Eddie?” You ask between the dotting of kisses you leave along his hips and the excruciating slow drag of your hand. He squirms under you, his stare heavy on the top of your head where he watches you move further down. “Please more of this?” You roll your wrist to finally free him and the flushed pink tip of his cock glistens in the low light before it disappears in your fist. He lets out a stuttering groan and falls flat on his back to run his hands over his face harshly.

“Or please this?” The flat of your tongue runs up from the base and follows your hand, ending with a cheeky kiss at the tip. You think Eddie might be crying under his big palms with how much he’s shaking.

“Is it that?” Another long lick that pulls a deep breath out of him. You spare a glance up his body to catch him staring at you in the dark from between his fingers.

“Yes fuck-oh shit.” You spare him his grief and swallow him down, your lips meeting your fist and your tongue exploring the soft skin against it. Every ridge and vein gets attention and Eddie rolls his hips up to chase the pointed tip of your tongue. His hands finally come down from his face, no longer obscuring his view, but they hover over your head haltingly.

“You can touch me Ed.” You tell him after popping off his cock wetly. When he stalls for a moment too long your pull a hand to fall on the crown of your head and his fingers slide in automatically, hair held gently between his knuckles. His hand tenses the same as his thighs when you wrap your lips around him again, humming at the taste as he hits the back of your throat. He makes breathy noises above you that choke off when your tongue swirls to match the twist of your hand. You bury your face down until your nose hits his bush and when you swallow around him he lets a string of slurred curses go into the roof, both hands sliding into your hair to grip tight.

You come up for air and to see his face go slack, eyes hazy where he follows the string of spit still connected to your lip and the tip of his cock.

“I didn’t know this is what going for a drink meant.” He tries to crack a joke but between his unfocused eyes and the hitch in his voice you laugh for a different reason.

“I did mean a drink actually, but this is a lot more fun.” Your hand speeds up, slick sounds loud in the back of his van and his eyes roll. You like watching him loose his mind, his hair pulled at and cheeks pink from the flush that creeps up from his chest. The urge to sink your teeth in along his ribs itches at the back of your mind until you can’t ignore it anymore and you attack him, hand trapped between the two of you still working him while you nip at his side. His laugh tumbles into an almost squeal and then a low moan when the head of his cock rubs against your thigh and he ruts up into your hand to chase the heat of your skin. You notice his sudden urgency and make your way back between his knees.

“Now I know it doesn’t look like it,” you lick your palm and continue jerking him off, “but I don’t put out on the first date.”

“This is a date?” He asks dazedly.

“It can be.” You smile at him before dropping your mouth on him again, bobbing up and down quicker this time.

“Oh fuck-“ His hands grip at your hair again, trying to pull back gently at first before he’s a little more insistent. “H-hey.” He tries again and you just stare up at him and hum, tongue running over that sensitive spot under the head of his dick. He must see the grin on your face because he finally drops his head back with a thud and he’s inadvertently bucking his hips up and gasping your name.

“Fuck fuck please don’t stop.” He bargains with you and the whine at the end of his words makes your stomach flip. You can feel the dampness between your thighs, your own arousal ignored in favor of making Eddie go stupid. With him toeing the edge of oblivion and whimpering about it though you almost wish you had just fucked him, if only to chase your own end.

You get a couple of courtesy taps and a whiney ‘no wait-‘ before he finally stills, a gasp caught in his chest that finally shudders out when he comes. His big hands cradle the back of your head when you swallow around him pulsing until he’s hissing and then he’s busy pulling you up to meet him halfway for a bruising kiss.

In the afterglow you realize you’ve had your whole ass out and anyone walking by his van could have seen you through the windshield. You only get a moment of embarrassment though before he’s moving into you and pushing you into the back of his driver seat.

“Hey we can-“ He pushes his face up under your jaw and cuts you off with open mouth kisses from your ear to your shoulder sitting bare under a hanging neckline. “We can go in for that drink now if you want.” You giggle at his eagerness and his hair tickling down your dress. He hasn’t even put himself together yet and he’s already got his hands on a mission, fists pulling and bunching up the fabric of your dress.

“I don’t want to go in for a drink.” He parrots your line back to you and carefully plucks at the big button keeping the top of your dress together. “I would like to express my sincere gratitude,” He works the button open one handed and catches your eye before dipping his fingers under the thin fabric and into the cup of your bra, “and deepest apologies,” the rough pad of his fingertip grazes a sensitive nipple and you bite your lip while your lashes flutter at him, “for being the worlds most ignorant individual.” He finishes on a whisper before he kisses you, plush lips soft and seeking like his hand now slowly working its way up your inner thigh. The tip of his pinky grazes along the edge of your underwear when his tongue slides along the seam of your lips and you grant him access to everything, knees falling apart and mouth molding to his.

This may not be your little dingy hallway inside but it’s better than any work daydream you’ve had about him. He slides your underwear down and pulls at your knee, spreading you open for him to run a finger in the crease of your hip. That earns him stifled whine from you and he tuts quietly. “Don’t be quiet.” His free hand pulls the shoulder of your dress down so he can plant a kiss there. “I gotta earn my forgiveness.”

“There’s nothing to forgive, it worked out.” You press your forehead into his and grin at him, stars in both your eyes you’re sure of it.

“Yeah but we could have been doing this so much sooner.” Just the slide of his finger through your folds makes you shiver, the wet sound of you loud in the quiet. “And look at me being ignorant again.” Two fingers this time, sliding up to find that small bundle of nerves that makes your head drop back. Eddie busies himself at your neck again, chest pressed into you and pinning you in place, fingers running tight circles over your clit. “Ignoring you in need.” His tongue worries at a spot behind your ear, an attempt to get you to relax into him and he dips his fingers down to gather your slick. “Let me help you out and maybe I’ll let you buy me a beer.”

You laugh and he sinks those two fingers in to hear you gasp and he wastes no time in his search for the right angle. He starts a quick pace that makes your breath catch in your chest and those musician fingers hone in on the spot that makes your legs jump.

“Oh is that it?” He bites softly at your neck stretched out under his mouth and laughs against your heated skin when you let out a strangled ‘uh huh’.

“Right there?” He flutters his fingers over and over, your thighs twitching with every brush. The heat pools fast in your abdomen especially with him mouthing at any skin he can find. You feel like you’re melting against him, the heat trapped between you and his fingers moving ceaselessly and when he angles his hand to press his thumb onto your clit you roll into him, thighs holding his arm in place.

“That’s it.” He murmurs and it’s your turn to bury your face, mouth hung open on a silent gasp against his chest.

“Eddie, please!”

“Please what?” He uses your words against you in play. “Please this?” A deeper brush of his fingertips and he grinds his hand against you. Your groan shakes deep out of your chest and before that band snaps to send you over the edge your hand winds up in his hair to hold on. It’s a quick push when your orgasm hits and Eddie doesn’t stop, not with you pulling his hair and gasping against his chest, not until you have to pull away, lightheaded and chest heaving.

“So I think that’s a good first apology, right?” He says into your hair, hand still trapped between your thighs.

“First?”

“Yeah I mean I have at least four more to make.” He removes his hand gently and finds your ruined underwear to wipe his fingers off, all while giving you a sly side eye.

“Are they all gonna be like that?” You feel boneless in the stifling heat of his van. He shifts and pulls you with him, slotting you between his legs so you can stay laying against his chest.

“I mean, they don’t have to be.” He sighs.

“No, no I like these kind of apologies.” You giggle against him and he pulls the hem of your dress down back over your hips. “Just maybe not always in the back of a van?”

“Oh no, I’ve got all kinds of places in mind. I Can say sorry in that little hallways inside,” your eyes go wide in the dark where he can’t see, “I’m sure you have a back room at work I can sneak into.”

“Oh my boss will love that.”

“Shit, I can find a corner in the garage no one uses, really the possibilities are endless.”

You know someone has to have noticed Eddie being gone for so long and you expect a tap on a window any minute but for now you stay tucked up against him. You’ll buy him his drink when his friends discover his fogged over van.

[majorproblems77]

Another day another LU analysis with me!

Dawn 9 is here and with it the end of the next arc of the LU comic is done!

This update did a lot and is also a full 10 pages long! So there's a bunch to unpack!

As always linked universe belongs to @linkeduniverse and Jojo, I own none of the pictures I'm using and please give the original post some love. It's very well done and I love this comic so much.

You can find the comic here!

Oh, and obviously spoilers for the most recent LU update if you've not looked at it!

Now, checklist. Popcorn, water and time to read half an hour worth of rambling.

Without further ado!

The letters!

So, Twilight, four and Time all appeared to get letters, with Time getting multiple (More on that later)

Twilights reaction to the super sale was my reaction while playing TP (I recently finished it for the first time! :D) when they opend the store in castle town. Every time i couldnt get there to get potions i was low key gutted.

And Four. Four's grandpa is a mood and i hope we get to meet him.

HE

blorbo blorbo blorbo

The master of standing 🧍

Beloved blorbo i love him

Okay im done

(Im not done)

Poor Sky He's so sad about it D:

But... I, as a part of the The team is heading to Skyloft next, team. Believe that Sun has done this on purpose. (Or that the Skyloftians dont have the mail system for him to retrieve anything) but i like to think its the first one.

Hmmm.... Time got multiple letters. (That takes care of the letter discrepancy)

Twi asking about the ranch, Time looking to one of the letters. This tells me one of two things.

The letter he's looking to could be from Malon, and he's genuenly not concerned.

or The letter he's looking at isnt from malon. Infact, by the way he's looking at it i think its from his Zelda. Possibly a report about black bloods in his time period. (As last time we see them in Time's era. They dont actually fight anything)

Twilight being cheeky and Time's dad face are giving me life.

But... as we know, Time is Twilights direct decendant only by a few generations at most. With the infomation we have from Twilight princess with Shade. And from jojo with Time and Twilight. I'm seeing this conversation as more of a father and son conversation over brothers.

And the rest of this conversation follows this same pattern. Twilight is very much being scolded. He's biting back with what he see's as Time's own words. (not that time know's as such)

Twilight looks genuenly shocked to hear this.

From the hero's shade (Time) in twilight princess.

"You may be destined to become the hero of legend...but your current power would disgrace the proud green of the hero's tunic you wear. "

I am screaming

And now im screaming more. Twilight nooooooooooooo

The we care about Twilight's well being gang. Spoiling us with the full body shots againnnnnnn.

Give me more of these three i love them all together.

And I'm convinced that theres going to be something bad happens to time directly after the end of the LU timeline.

Time is missing an eye. So we know that Shade and Time are closer together than the hero of time (In game). SO.... If time dosent Die on the adventure with the chain. I'm almost convinced he does almost right after he returns back to his time.

The armour is almost identical. He has most of the scaring which lines up....

If the helmet turns up, then i think Time dies during this adventure. It's the only thing i can see as missing.

Twilight.... Now i think Twilight thinks that the gods are giving him an opportunity to save the hero of time from dying to become the heros shade. but thats the funky thing about timetravel.

(Depending on how Jojo and LU time travels works.)

I believe that the timetravel in LU solidifies the adventures of the other links. And that nothign that occours in this adventure impacts their adventures. Even if something was changed it wouldnt change the past.

IE - Twilight breaking his shadow crystal wouldnt mean that wild didnt remember having the wolf on his adventure - as its already happened.

(I hope that makes sense. - time travel is confusing i see it as an alternative timeline type thing)

Moving on!

Wild is best brother 101

Also twilight getting flustered about a girl oh bless this man i low key love him okay

Her!

Also

Smiley man

Epona is a wonderful girl and i love her so much okay

Also Warriors!

HE LOOKS SO HAPPY AGAIN

Man got his emotional support scarf and is no longer stressed (Atleast not visably)

HE!

BELOVED AGAIN HE IS SO HAPPY I AM NORMAL ABOUT THIS MAN

okay

Please understand how much i am cackling at the shenanigans of these three.

Wind rolling around because it is clearly faster mode of travel

Go zoomies wind go zoomies!

Wind rolled down the stairs you cant convince me otherwise. Look at his little superhero pose as hes moving around the corner.

Older brother alert, dont ruin the kids fun warriors they are just getting excited about being on the road again.

Also Warriors, This is normal link behaviour. Just ask Time. He would eailsy tell you that he rolled around hyrule field.

I LOVE HIS LITTLE FACE OKAY

MY BELOVED BLORBO 🧍

(if i run out of pictures i swear to hylia)

There's so much brotherly energy in these panels i love them all so much okay.

Also Sky offering to Pay Time back for the Inn Fee this is why i love the wonderful blorbo okay

Guys im sorry, he's their dad. You cant change my mind.

Thats a dad walk, with a dad sentence.

'Okay guys i need to make sure you are not gonna get killed please have swords.'

The blacksmithing gang getting the love they deserve.

Sky leading the charge! (I know its cause he knows the way and stuff But...)

It also makes a lot of sense. If Sky is the slowest of the group(Again not confirmed but we have had jokes about his stamina), it makes sense to put him at the front to maintain pace of the group. Stops people going too fast and prevents people from being left behind.

Which i might add has already happened. (Warriors and Hyrule im looking at you.)

We just need to read the boss partterns for a bit so we can then decide how to fight it. You know, like we did when we were in our adventures and had to figure out boss mechanics.

Important that hyrule is saying this as his game is arguably one of the hardest. He probably spent a long time on each boss learning attack patterns.

Oh this arc was fun! So much fun i love it so much okay

Thank you so much again for hanging out with me while i write these. I love making them and i really appreciate all the support on them. (If you could share it around i'd really appreciate it :) )

Have a wonderful day! :D

[cerezzzita]

🍓 ˖ . ᵎᵎ Sugarcoating ✦ 3Dante x Fem!Reader

⌕ summary: Dante purposes that you two should kiss, and is not a big deal. After all, friends does this, too.

notes: to start the month with some goodies, let's have some smoochies! (Jesus Christ, why am I like that) hello y'all, how's it going? so, yeah, was feeling in the mood for writing a kiss/making-out scene and, well, no one better than Dante, right? right! in advance, I apologize because I tend to suck at kiss scenes and so so sooo sorry for the end being sorta turn-off. really, i was just excited to post it already after the feedback I had with the sneak peak. anyways, enjoy the reading!

♡ word count: 970

♡ tags: fem!reader, no use of pronouns (you/yours only), no description of reader's appearance, use of pet names, kissing, making-out, slightly suggestive but nothing explicit (it got hottie hottie at some point, i think), Dante tastes as strawberry and vanilla because I said so, 3Dante my beloved bf and mentions of friends with benefits.

ⓘ gif's not mine!!

"What if we kissed?"

Your irises, focused before on the vast pages of the magazine, took an interested route to the owner of the question. Usually sitting with his feet up on the shop's wooden table, Dante's heavenly eyes gazed at you, curiously, brow arched and a wolfish grin summoned to his lips.

"What?" Your voice had come up with a high pitch.

"You heard me, angelcake," now the jovial Devil Hunter propped his chin on one hand, blinking both eyes with a certain air of grace. "You're a babe, I'm a hot stuff; I only see the pros." Dante shrugged as he finished his sentence.

Your reply was a short, airy laugh. Closing the random magazine in your hands, you adjusted your body on the sofa that was in front of Dante's desk, with your legs duly intertwined and, smiling a little, imitated the chin placed in the palm.

"Until yesterday, we were just friends considering — in your words — your bad luck with the ladies."

"Bingo," he snapped his fingers, not avoiding his turn to chuckle, "However, you are one of the few ladies to have ever shot me in the forehead."

"Really? Because the way you piss me off sometimes…"

"Ouch, baby, it's part of my charm. Anyway, what if we really kissed?" This time, Dante's inquiry came with an edge of seriousness, and you engaged in debate with your train of thought and the stations through which it passed.

Okay, Dante was eye candy without a doubt. Dangerously attractive and even if inconvenient in certain situations, you had to admit that he had an undeniable charisma and a generous heart.

Maybe he was also nice to kiss.

So why not?

It wasn't like the friendship between the two of you was going to end or wither because of a mere silly kiss…

You cleared your throat and rose from the sofa, tracing steps towards Dante, who was now smirking like he was the Cheshire Cat incarnate. Gone was all shyness and hesitation from the moment you walked around the table and placed yourself on the Devil Hunter's lap and wrapped your arms around his firm neck; cheeky, he let out a low chuckle of contentment.

"Is that a yes?" Dante's hands snaked stealthily up to grip your waist, an act that sent a rush of heat and shivers through you, and he felt it all too well, so much that his fingers began to caress your skin.

"Let's see if it is," determined, you calmly moved your face closer to Dante's until you felt the subtle brush of the tips of your noses and the warm breath against yours.

Quietly, you initiate the kiss. Sparda's handsome son made a sound akin to a pleasurable growl, moving his hands to your back and then lowering them to your thighs. You sighed. Until then, the movement of your lips had been carried out slowly and without much haste.

As if it were the beginning of a tasting.

Your fingers unconsciously tangled in the pale silk strands that were Dante's hair, he seemed to enjoy the touch. His lips were like velvet, a certain strawberry and vanilla flavor that when fused with the soft texture of his mouth, made you want more.

Dante, with some efficiency, had taken a slow nibble on your lower lip. The sensation was beneficial enough that your mouth opened, accompanied by a low, surprised moan, and then his smooth tongue darted in and involved with yours. Once a simple kiss, now it became hungry and voluptuous.

The half-demon greedily squeezed your thighs, grinning as another groan came from you; Dante stiffened and shivered as the scrape of your nail tips traveled down the back of his neck. He groaned too and then led the grips down to your ass, having the audacity to even give it a silent pat there.

You gasped from the lack of air and Dante's fiery acts that made your insides crackle like you were on fire. As you gasped, your mouths peeled off.

"Dante…" your bashful sigh brought another grunt of delight from the young Devil Hunter who was now finding refuge for his fervent mouth on the skin of your neck, gifting the curve with soft nips and lazy licks. "D-Dante…"

"Aw, baby…" you heard him suck in air through his teeth before giving you another lick, Dante was so caught up in the moment as you were that he started babbling disjointedly, "... Just like I imagined, you're sweet as hell, just the way I imagined it... So sweet, so delicious..."

His voice, husky and sly, made your muscles quiver and instinctively your thighs clenched together. Dante looked up and saw your irises hidden by your lashes and your head tilted back with brows positively twitching. He laughed, his eyes now blue like hellish flames and luscious.

You looked at him with half-closed eyelids and silently, flattening your hands on Dante's firm, strong chest. Much to your glee, he gave you a satisfied 'ooh'.

"Dante…"

"Yeah?"

Again, you sighed, more calmly than a few minutes ago.

"I…" you bit your lip, feeling abruptly self-conscious at the way Dante's ice blue colored orbs roamed over your figure. Worth mentioning, the young son of Sparda's hands were still placed on your ass. "Hm…"

"Lost your tongue all of a sudden, angel?"

"Hm, maybe she's still tangled up in yours," you shrugged, putting on a petit smile.

"Naughty," Dante chuckled, "Want to see if she's really tangled up in mine?"

"Now that you mention it, I do."

On this specific time, it was the half-demon who had kissed you passionately, with you again moaning in delight as you savoured his sweet tongue inside your mouth. You both smiled over each other's lips.

If your friendship continued sugarcoated like that, so be it.

cerezzzita©, 2023 · all rights reserved ⓘ do not copy, edit, steal or claim as yours | reblogs and comments are appreciated!

[dnpbeats]

OKAY i need to speak on the interactive christmas adventure and how it's a full circle moment, but at the same time so indicative of what dan and phil have created together (retroactively saying, strap in because this got long)

so, to begin with, i can't imagine how it must have been for dan to be making that video with phil. six months prior dan was a fan among many, commenting on phil's videos and tweeting at him. and then this interactive space adventure drops on his birthday. and dan loves it so much he comments on every single path! and tweets phil about how much he loves it!! (okay not the point of this post but i also just need to sneak this in: i just know deep down part of dan felt so special that this was posted on his birthday. and the fact that phil used a song from ff7 and dan commented on it... anyway!) so, needless to say, dan was really into this interactive adventure thing.

so then we all know what happens after that, but fast forward to december. dan, who has been talking with phil for a few months now, who has known him in real life for barley over two, is not just with phil but is collaborating with him. and they're making something that, honestly, for the time was a pretty big production! it's obvious when you watch it that they've sunk so much time into it. there are parts when they talk in unison so you can just imagine them sitting there with a little script practicing it 😭 so think about what a full circle moment it is, that the first phil project that dan profusely expressed his enjoyment of was an interactive adventure, and here he is half a year later making that very same thing with phil!! and also, the fact that it was truly a joint project, even though it was going on phil's channel. in the last scene of the adventure, dan sacrifices himself.

dan: i have to sacrifice myself phil: no dan, please don't! there must be another way dan: but phil, this is not my channel, i'm not even meant to be here phil: don't say that, dan, think about what you're doing

and like, yes obviously this is scripted! but even in the script, when dan says "this isn't my channel," phil says "don't say that." because this was 100% a joint effort. a year and a half later dan stated it was the best thing he's contributed to the internet. idk i just love the fact that one of the things dan really appreciated about phil early on was his interactive adventure, and then six months later they got to make one together, and dan obviously has a very soft spot for it :,)

okay so that's how it came full circle for dan in 2009. but secondarily i want to talk about the fact that i truly think the interactive christmas adventure is the cornerstone of everything dan and phil have accomplished together. "but emma, what about pinof?!" okay yes. pinof my beloved... but also, at the end of the day, pinof was basically just dan and phil shooting the breeze. don't get me wrong, it is foundational as well! the fact that it got so popular really highlights that dan and phil's natural chemistry is a big part of them being a duo and their popularity. and i love a good video that's just dan and phil riffing off of each other.

however, dan and phil have done SO MUCH with their careers that is so much more than just their base level chemistry. SAP, the radio show, books, TWO WORLD TOURS, movies of said tours. because besides the fact that they have a dynamic that's enjoyable to watch, they also create so well together. even their solo things, we know they help each other behind the scenes. they just get each other creatively. but aside from that, all of the aforementioned things they've accomplished together really paved a way for other people in the industry!! other creators (vlog brothers iirc?) have talked about the fact that tatinof was the first Big Youtube Tour and the fact that it was so successful meant that other creators were able to do the same.

dan and phil as people aside, i don't think there will ever be another professional duo like dan and phil. like they ARE the blueprint. and i think that's because they care so much about putting out content that they're proud of, but also because they enjoy what they do. the reason why the interactive christmas adventure was so great was because they put in a lot of effort, but also bc you can tell that they were having so much fun making it. at the end of the day it was just two boys making something together because they could! and they wanted to! and i think their mentality for creating things today is still the same. so yeah, i think the interactive christmas adventure is so so important in terms of d&p as a creative duo. it's the first project in a long long list of amazing things dan and phil have created together, when no one else was doing what they were doing. and the fact that almost 15 years later they're still here, making content together, having a whole career together... oh yeah and also a whole life!! just absolutely wild, and i'm so grateful we're all here to see it

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

Hi lovelies, I know I reblogged a post about the S&B news earlier but I just want to put my own words out here real quick.

I’m slightly late writing this because I spent the last 30 minutes or so watching the wonderful wonderful wonderful brekkerbybrekker on Instagram live and it was honestly just a full half hour or me crying whilst I watched her cry. I feel like we all know her but if anyone doesn’t she’s on insta and tiktok and she’s absolutely brilliant so do go give her a follow.

The Grishaverse has been part of my life actually for only 2 years, nearly 2 1/2, and I say only because I feel like I have been part of this world forever. I read Six of Crows in May 2021 and I had finished reading the series by September. I think it was in June that I started watching the TV show, after I’d read the first Shadow and Bone book. So although I read the books first, or in the case of S&B the books that were relevant to the season, I have never existed in this fandom - and definitely not as an active part of it - without the show there. And really the main thing I want to say is please please please don’t let this fandom end because we don’t have the show anymore. I know it existed before me but I also know that we got a lot more traction because of the show, you can see that in the way the popularity of it spiked before the release of season 2, and I don’t want to lose this because I love it here so damn much. It really hurts that we won’t be able to see our beloved, wonderful cast in all the futures we’d hoped for, and I really hope they know just how much we love them. This is a difficult revelation, but we will continue on together because we are a strong and wonderful community joined by such genuine love for such a beautiful series of novels.

Over the next few days I’m planning on reblogging the analyses of season 2 that I posted in March so if you’ve joined me since then (which I think a lot of you have since we’re so close to 1.3k thank you all so much) and haven’t read them then give them a look because I really think there’s so much wonderfulness to celebrate about that show and that’s what we need to keep doing now. I also might end up writing some new analyses of the show since I will almost definitely be rewatching it.

Deep down, I honestly really thought we were gonna make it

I know that not everyone will get why this provoked an emotional response from me and that’s okay, but please don’t be disrespectful of the fact that it did 🖤

[silverflqmes]

What about playing with oikawa, atsumu, osamu, kuroo and akaashis hair? Like...just pulling them on top and stroking their hair would be the most comforting shit ever😴

໒⦂ 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖/ 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑.

notes. hello anon! thank you so much for requesting, this is a really cute prompt oml<3 i hope i was able to do it justice :’) i wasn’t sure if you wanted drabbles or headcanons so i did a mix, enjoy!

genre. fluff + comfort

ft. tooru oikawa, atsumu miya, osamu miya, tetsuro kuroo, keiji akaashi

tw. implied to be post timeskip, so there might be spoilers if you haven’t read the manga!

gender neutral! reader.

     ➫    𝓞𝗜𝗞𝗔𝗪𝗔   𝓣𝗢𝗢𝗥𝗨   ୨୧   ˎˊ˗

⌗ oh. he loves it so much.

⌗ always happy and willing to have you play with his hair! might tease you at first about it though.. i mean — come on. it’s tooru.

⌗ “see y/n-chan, all those long showers and amounts of conditioner are worth it in the end! fluffy hair doesn’t happen just like that!”

⌗ doesn’t really have a particular position he prefers. but, if there’s an opportunity for him to be able to watch volleyball matches while you play with his hair — then bingo

⌗ makes him sleepy though tbh so you do it when he doesn’t get his ass to bed

“tooru-san..” you murmured quietly, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes as you made your way to the brunet, sliding onto his lap. “the bed feels cold without you.. are you almost done..?”

a chuckle left the setter’s lips as he turned the volume down a bit on the tv before placing your head on his shoulder. “that so? did you really miss your tooru-san that much?” he asked you softly, laughing at the whine that left your lips. it was enough to answer his question. “okay, okay.. i’ll tell you what — we cuddle here for a bit while i finish this set, since this match has two more sets..” he muttered before clearing his throat. “and then we’ll go in our room together, okay?”

you weighed his words, contemplating his suggestion before nuzzling into his neck, loosing a quiet breath. “you promise?”

“i promise.” the brunet confirmed, smiling softly as you got more comfortable on his lap, slipping one hand idly into his hair- an old trick you would use to either calm him down.. or in this case, serenade him.

tooru hummed at the action, aware of your true motives, but he couldn’t complain. he had his most favorite and beloved person in the universe clinging and cuddling him while running their fingers through his hair. and although it made him sleepy, he was on cloud nine.

“goodnight, y/n-chan.” he chuckled once he felt your fingers slow to a stop, rising from his spot on the couch to carry you back to your shared bedroom.

     ➫    𝓜𝗜𝗬𝗔   𝓐𝗧𝗦𝗨𝗠𝗨   ୨୧   ˎˊ˗

⌗ he loves it a lot too!

⌗ atsumu is definitely the one to initiate the most in your relationship, so whenever you approach him first — oh, his heart soars.

⌗ but he teases you for it. why wouldn’t he? his dearest lover wants to be close and card their fingers through his hair!

⌗ “do my ears deceive me, y/n-chan? ya wanna play with my hair?? hold on lemme get my recorder so i can keep this on file-OW! DON’T PULL!”

⌗ playing with his hair honestly calms him down really easily, especially when he’s on edge from a game, argument with osamu, or whatever else might be bothering him in the moment. it just resets him a little :’)

“you okay, ‘tsumu?” you asked upon stepping into your shared flat, doggy bag in hand. “samu asked me to bring you this when i went to onigiri miya today after my shift.” you added softly, joining him on the sofa. “everything okay?”

the blond looked over at you for a moment before letting a huff out, shaking his head. “don’t wanna say. yer gonna think it’s dumb.” he grumbled back, sinking more into the couch while you blinked.

it couldn’t be that bad, right?

a sincere smile crossed your lips as you petted his head gently. “come on, ‘tsumu. you can tell me anything! i promise i won’t laugh or think it’s dumb.” you assured him, placing the food down before patting your thigh.

for a moment he looked you up and down, then at the food. perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to tell you.

he let out a breath before lowering his head onto your lap, feeling your fingers weave through his hair in such a soothing manner. he could never tire of it, and somehow, it made him less reluctant. “i was playin’ switch with shoyo-kun and bokuto-kun, when this tiny ass spider suddenly crawled onto the table and freaked the shit outta omi-kun.” an exasperated sigh. “so he took his cleaning solution and started sprayin’ all frantically.. which got onto the joycons.” he confessed, pointing to the envelope on the coffee table. “so i have to send them for repairs, meaning NO SWITCH THIS WEEKEND.”

silence.

“y/n-chan..?” he called out, looking up to see you shielding your mouth — from laughing. “YER LAUGHING?? TRAITOR!!”

“I’M SORRY I’M SORRY PFFT-”

     ➫    𝓜𝗜𝗬𝗔   𝓞𝗦𝗔𝗠𝗨   ୨୧   ˎˊ˗

⌗ he likes it a lot! he’s on the neutral side with physical affection compared to atsumu, but doesn’t reject it lol

⌗ whenever you ask he’s always happy to oblige, loves feeling your hands in his hair, anyway. it relaxes him and just feels super good in general.

⌗ honestly takes him back to lunch time in high school under the trees, just laying on your lap while you ran your fingers through his hair.

⌗ doesn’t really say much when you play with his hair, he’s just got his eyes closed while you do it or is watching the cooking channel with you.

⌗ “should i make this for dinner tonight, or too much?” the answer is and always will be yes, because this man’s food is just<3

“hard day at work?” osamu asked from the kitchen, feeling your arms around his waist as you nodded against his back.

“something like that.” came your low sigh, followed by an annoyed grumble. “my boss gave me this really tough manuscript to edit.” ah, of course.

“did they now?” he asked, to show he was listening, and you hummed in agreement.

“sure did. i don’t get it, samu. they’d publish this piece of shit work, but not my story?? it’s preposterous.” you grumbled, pouting when your lover let out a laugh. what was so funny anyway? “hey!! don’t laugh! i’m genuinely irked by this!”

“sorry, love.” he chuckled a little, sliding the vegetables into the curry he was preparing before turning to kiss your head. “didn’t mean to laugh, just thought ya sounded a little cute there.” he responded, and it was true. you did sound adorable to him. “but you’ll find the right publisher someday, the world’s just not ready for yer book to destroy the market.”

you were reluctant at first with his words, but gave in, anyway. it was osamu miya, your everything. how could you possibly resist? “i suppose, i can wait a bit longer..” you agreed, albeit begrudgingly. “but that doesn’t mean you’re off the hook!”

the gray eyes male rose a brow before turning the knob on low. “that so? well, what would i have to do to be off the hook?” he asked, placing one hand at your waist while the other cupped your cheek.

a grin spread across your lips before you slipped your fingers into his hair. “i think you know the answer to that.” and that he did.

    ➫    𝓚𝗨𝗥𝗢𝗢   𝓣𝗘𝗧𝗦𝗨𝗥𝗢   ୨୧   ˎˊ˗

⌗ this man is so for it, he’ll literally be smirking like a cat who wants petting.. might even purr ( or moan ) as a joke..

⌗ you could honestly ask him whenever or he might just even approach you half the time tbh cuz he’s not even worried about getting his hair messed up ( i mean.. that bedhead is unmoving )

⌗ doesn’t really mind the time or place, but prefers being in bed since he can lay his head on your chest while you play with his hair; it’s just easier and more comfortable lol

⌗ “cut me some slack y/n-chan, i worked super duper hard today.. the all star team sure is high maintenance!” — says this when he was literally doing nothing but laughing his ass off from the sidelines while hajime was scolding all of them ( tooru and atsumu.. ) over an altercation.

⌗ once your fingers slide into his hair, tetsuro is not moving. got a shift today at work? you’re calling sick. got plans with your friends? consider them cancelled.

“oh?” tetsuro rose a brow, noting the ds in your hands, which had his suspicions rising. “dare i ask where you got that from?” he inquired, taking up the vacant spot on the bed as he leaned over your shoulder.

your eyes barely lifted from the screen as you hummed, directing your character to a save point before looking over at your lover with a smile. “i think you might know the answer to that already.” you laughed, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “kenma let me borrow it for the week.” just as he suspected.

a hum left the cat eyed male’s lips as he got comfortable in his spot, scooting closer to you. “i figured as much.” he mused, draping an arm around your waist. “think you got room for one more on your chest? or is that reserved for video games only?”

you rose a brow at his response before letting out a laugh. “is that pettiness i detect, tetsu?” you asked, snickering further before letting out a breath. “i suppose i can make room for tonight..” you drawled out, turning off the device before placing it on your nightstand to charge.

a feline smirk etched onto kuroo’s lips as he wrapped his legs around your waist, moving his head to your chest as he closed his eyes. “perfect, that saves me the bribery.” he snickered out, feeling your fingers card gently through his hair as you scoffed, but smiled anyway.

➫    𝓐𝗞𝗔𝗔𝗦𝗛𝗜   𝓚𝗘𝗜𝗝𝗜   ୨୧   ˎˊ˗

⌗ i don’t think he would mind it honestly, but at first he might be a little confused as to why you would want to play with his hair — or more like he wonders what enjoyment you might get out of it — and now i’m overthinking😐

⌗ anyway, if you do ask him, he will allow you to play with it! he’d never say no to you, as he wouldn’t want to deny your happiness.. and might be a little curious himself

⌗ “are you sure this is gonna help, y/n-san? it seems a little too simplistic to rid me of my — oh.” it was needless to say he took his words back immediately.

⌗ once he realizes that he enjoys it, it’ll become your go to if he’s ever super stressed or having one of his mini anxiety attacks ( those two manga panels resonated sm with me )

⌗ likes to have his head on your lap while you run your fingers through his hair ( might read too as you do it ), it’s very relaxing<3

“keiji?” you called his name softly, lifting your head off your pillow to find a male silhouette kicking off their shoes at the doorway. “it’s late.” you told him when he stepped into the dim light of the tv, frowning a little. “i was beginning to worry..”

“i know- sorry for missing dinner with you.. tenma-san wanted me to stay longer to try and figure out the direction of the new chapter he’s writing.” akaashi sighed out, sleep evident on his visage. he’d been working hard on finishing the chapter for three days now to meet the deadline, but it was taking a toll he hadn’t quite acknowledged yet.

but you did.

“keiji..” you murmured quietly before patting your lap. “come, lay down for a bit.. you’ve been working really hard, so you deserve to give yourself some time to relax.” you told him, smiling a little. “at least the chapter is finished so you can rest for a little without worrying of what needs to be done next.”

it was true, the turquoise eyed male knew it to be true, but he just couldn’t relax.. he kept thinking back to it, if what he done was good enough to be published for the public to see. the last thing he wanted to was let tenma down after all and —

“keiji.” you called again and he snapped from his thoughts, nodding slowly.

“sorry, sorry..” he muttered back, laying down on the vacant space while he rested his head on your lap. “how is this meant to help, though?”

a sigh left your lips, thinking the boy to be clueless. a few days at the office and he was up in the clouds. “just give it a second.” you told him, removing his glasses before carding your fingers through his hair, massaging him gently.

within a few minutes, he was out like a light.

notes. hi hi, i hope this was what you were looking for! i tried to keep them all somewhat diverse, but thank you again for requesting! some feedback would be much appreciated<3 so feel free to send another ask to tell me your thoughts if you prefer to stay anonymous!

↳ return to main masterlist . request rules . send an ask

[fengkye]

☆ᯓ “Do you..want me..to scent you?”

❀⇝ᗩ/ᑎ: hi!!! Omg, this is one of my first posts on here!! I hope you guys like it!! requests r open too! feel free to req!

alpha!ssk, omega!reader (male, fem, whatevs you want!) scenting, ssk being an uncertain alpha, no uses of y/n

ੈ✩‧₊˚☄. *. ⋆⍣ * ˚ ✦

🍙⋆ ★ You felt real bad, bad as in, it was a bit overwhelming to even get ready in the morning. 🍙⋆ ★ It was suffocating, at least, to you, and you thought that it might never end. 🍙⋆ ★ It was yet again, another restless morning. It was quiet. Yet, you felt uneasy still. Like, it was a good life, a mate that loved you, an okay life style, it was a dream for other omegas. 🍙⋆ ★ still, it felt like something was wrong. and it felt wrong to think that. staring into the bedsheets and scrunched blankets as you rose from the laying position you once were at. eyes narrowing into the wrinkles of the fabric under you. 🍙⋆ ★ was Sasuke on a mission again? maybe, what time was it even? you looked over the clock, eyes glazing over the numbers that seemed to shine out "11:42 AM." 🍙⋆ ★ silently, you got out of bed. doing your usual. brushing your hair, brushing your teeth, changing, washing your face. whatever. 🍙⋆ ★ rubbing your eyes as you were walking out the bathroom, soon bumping into a broad chest. the familiar scent of what seemed to be rainwood and a bit of smokey-comfort filled your nostrils. immediately easing yourself in every way. "hey." The familiar deep and subtle voice spoke, as you melted into his arms. your beloved mate caved his muscular arms around your wavering body. "hi." you replied, face muffled into the fabric of Sasuke's chest. taking another deep inhale of his natural scent. rainwood and smoke didn't seem like a perfect mixture, but sure as hell put you into any state of comfort. 🍙⋆ ★ Sasuke was a bit confused, moreover concerned why his omega was so tired. he smelt it in you, he saw it in you, it's been a bit dry how you were. and that wasn't good to the Uchiha. "are you okay?" he asked again, a bit unsure what to do. besides his primal instincts obviously telling him to help you, the alpha himself wasn't one for comforting. 🍙⋆ ★ and tbh, he felt more guilt because of that. (I'M GROVELING AT THE FLOOR DON'T THIN KTHAT HARGRHGRGRRR) you responded with a small hum, nodding your head. your hair ruffling against his shirt as he let nervously inhaled. thoughts racing in his mind of what to do. what would a normal alpha do? his mind clicked after a few seconds, well, it was the fastest and most simple way possible. yet, sasuke felt a bit embarrassed how he was asking--it really made him question his own place as an alpha. 🍙⋆ ★ "do you..want me..to scent you?" he asked, feeling himself become more hesitant with himself. he loved your scent, but he missed when it wasn't so sour and bitter now. ever since you started showing signs of ignorance and small irritated icks. 🍙⋆ ★ honestly, it was a bit surprising at first. the way he was just randomly asking that. you really didn't expect him to ask that, you expected to just take a whiff of his scent and go. "ya.." you replied flatly. letting out a small mewl when the Uchiha swept you up. 🍙⋆ ★ and with that, sasuke took you to your shared bedroom. placing you down gently onto the scrambled sheets that you dragged yourself out of earlier. it felt nice to be back. also made you think that you just got up and got ready for nothing. the alpha carefully shimmied next to you, the bed dipping as Sasuke moved closer to you. to which you caught him by surprise, immediately wrapping your body around him. the room mixing with both of your scents. 🍙⋆ ★ you already felt better. "oh.." he spoke gently, subtle dark eyes closing as he felt you immediately sniffing into his neck and shoulder. close to his scent glands. Sasuke felt a bit awkward since he was the one who suggested this cuddle session, yet you were taking the lead by a bunch. his arms wrapped around you again, soothing your tensed body into relaxation. your scent was perfect to him. he dipped his nose into your hair, taking a big whiff of satisfaction. the Uchiha was happy that he atleast made you feel better. he kissed gently at your forehead, to which you purred at. 🍙⋆ ★ this was truly, truly everything you could've asked for.

[spurious]

what was the moment where you said yes to McShep?

OKAY SO.

Obviously you, audioletter my beloved wife know all this but. I’m not sure I’ve talked about how I got into SGA/mcshep on my tumblr so.

After finishing the x-files in 2022, my wife’s Zaddy Husband Mitch Pileggi beckoned us to watch Stargate Atlantis (because we couldn’t stomach Walker Texas Ranger). We’ve both been in fandom for a Long Time and thus remembered the years that McShep reigned supreme, and starting the show we said to each other “haha wouldn’t it be funny if we became ride-or-die mcshep shippers?”

……..yeah.

From the very start of the show, basically every single time John and Rodney were on screen together we’d go “haha mcshep lol”

So now I’m like. trying to excavate my memories to figure out when it Became Real for me.

I do tend to love buddy slash pairings and ships where one person is shrill while the other is chill so it’s not, like, surprising to me in hindsight that I did end up shipping mcshep? And then the SGA fandom being so friendly and active just…allowed my fixation the space to flourish.

But anyway, let’s see what the first McShep thing I saved to my camera roll was!

*drumroll*

It’s this art by the amazing @luluxa:

So at this point I think I was still at the “no no, I’m saving this fanart to my phone ironically” stage.

Now, this was October 30th. By November 3rd, I have photos of a trip to mandarake where I was really hoping to find SGA doujinshi cause I SWEAR I’d seen it before (I’ve not managed to find it yet. Japanese fans why. You guys love generic white guys mcshep should be massive here)

The first fic I have bookmarked is from November 2nd with the note “oh no I have feelings about McShep now” and it is Counting Down by @alienfuckeronmain, which is a post-trinity fic.

HOWEVER. I also have a Grace Under Pressure coda bookmarked from a day or so later, and this tracks with my impressions: this is the episode that most intensely sticks out in my mind as being emotionally memorable and something I needed to be reading fic about. Soooooo I guess it was Rodney that got me, and the need to process my emotions about episodes by reading other people’s processing, and, uh, now here I am almost two years later!

SO. To get to the actual question, several paragraphs and approximately a day later, I don’t know that there really was a single moment that put me there, as opposed to a series of moments enacted onto an already-primed pump? Because truly I should know by now that the danger of doing something ironically is that you end up doing it ronically, but. I remember devouring the fic I could find that was non-spoilery as we were watching (lots of episode tags) and it definitely shaped my perspective on John and Rodney’s interactions.

But essentially, this is a ship archetype I tend to like, and Rodney McKay is absolutely the type of horrible little gremlin man I tend to like, and the fic was good, and. Here we are lmao

[atopvisenyashill]

Why do you think Jaehaerys sexually assaulted his own daughter?( I'm genuinely curious)

I have two dedicated tags to this if you want to dig in a bit more - "gael and the bard" and the newly added "jaehaerys the cruel" tags, with this meta here being the kind of jumping off point into that whole theory/analysis. gael and the bard is more focused on gael targaryen herself and the mystery surrounding her pregnancy and suicide; there's a lot of bael the bard imagery surrounding her, being called the winter princess, gael being one letter off from bael, the father of her baby noted to have been a singer, and her status as like, an eternal maiden because of her relationship with alysanne. the jaehaerys the cruel moniker is just a reference to maegor the cruel - i think the play between maegor being outwardly monstrous and jaehaerys being privately monstrous is very interesting! but also it's not like a fun tag name lol so i might change it, haven't decided yet!

but i guess to break down my thought process here - i have never liked that man lmaoooo, i am an og jaehaerys hater. my lil journey here is, i read this series in high school, roughly around the winter of 2012, but i didn't read twoiaf when it came out in 2014, i read that just before i started this blog, so like....idk 2 years ago, roughly, but i was Aware Of Its Existence (they didn't have it at school, the library was kind of far, and it felt like a stupidly expensive book to ask for at the time). i had kinda skimmed over the short stories the princess & the queen and the rogue prince (don't ask me when they came out, icr), and had read all the twow preview chapters so it wasn't like i wasn't up on all the asoiaf world stuff, i just hadn't been able to get my hands on twoiaf, which I do think impacted my view of jaehaerys because the thing is...i just didn't understand the jaehaerys appeal. i won't get into the wanky aspects of fandom (i mean i will if someone asks but idk if you care lol), but i would say in the like 2010-2014 era the fandom was p staunchly and loudly pro targaryen, and not just in a "i love the rot" way but in a "they are the promised heroes" type of way and i never jived with it. i did not enjoy the vast majority of dany's chapters on my first read, nor did i enjoy this weird "well if you like the starks you're a NORMIE" takes that i was constantly seeing, and the sansa v arya war was insane (i'm blocked and have blocked just so many people lol).

i say all that because everyone was UP jaehaerys' ass. i won't name names but i remember a common rebuttal to the "well george is kinda critiquing incest-in-fantasy here and i'm not sure this series is going to end with an incestuous targ restoration" stance was "well if incest is so bad why do jaehaerys and alysanne exist huh? check AND mate incest hater" and it was like............alright, so this is a fandom of deeply unserious people who like to think they are the Expert On Themes instead of just another schmuck with a blog like everyone else. it was just a very condescending tone, always, and it turned me off the targs but especially turned me off jaehaerys.

and it was also like....but what has he done to be so beloved in this fandom??? again, this is pre twoiaf, and then post-twoiaf but pre f&b, so all we know about this dude is that he was called the conciliator because he pardoned the people who sided with maegor, he "protected the faith", he married his sister who gave the watch the gift, he abolished prima noctus, he built a dirt road, he was besties with barth. okay? i always thought the move with the gift was annoying and goofy behavior & i feel very vindicated on being right there esp if aegon’s dream was real, and i’ve always thought the marriages for his kids were kinda weird once we got those in twoiaf and WHAT DO YOU KNOW. like, pre twoiaf everyone was hyping him up as this great king, this paragon of valyrian supremacy, oh he’s so smart and politically minded but he’s not overly cruel, and it was like. we know little about this man in his day to day life though. we know damn well whatever good robert did as king was largely jon arryn's influence so Why are we pretending like just because jaehaerys passed a few good laws it means HE was the one responsible for those ideas (and again I WAS RIGHT). is what he’s doing even that good??

AND THEN FIRE AND BLOOD CAME OUT. and everyone was crying screaming throwing up about how stupid he is, how cruel he is, how weird he is about his daughters, and then people started saying “well you’re being unfair if you don’t like him because-“ i don’t give a shit because i’m validated for not liking that man’s vibes thanks!!!! like…yeah he IS a paragon of targaryen supremacy and this is not a good thing! and especially when you factor in how often the patriarchs of the series have these deeply rooted, very disturbing flaws, i thought the backlash to f&b re: “he ruined jae & aly!” so silly. of COURSE he was weird about his daughters, he eloped with his 12 year old sister and when confronted over it basically said “i do what i want fuck you” that’s not romantic it’s INSANE BEHAVIOR and i’ll stand on that forever!!! marrying your siblings is deranged and idgaf about what magic or political reasoning they have ESPECIALLY when jaehaerys himself refuses a valyrian marriage several times over when it makes more political sense to go that route (in both his own marriage and in the marriages of his grandchildren).

so! i always thought he was boring and weird, then f&b came out and i was vindicated. the thing is, as i read, i guess i was also like. but what is the fuckijg POINT of this guy! he dominates the f&b narrative when there’s way more interesting characters, he has no redeeming qualities, every good thing he does is usually overshadowed by his reasoning being heinous and disturbing, but this book is pushing this idea that he’s the good one, he’s the blueprint, so is it JUST an exploration of like, what ~being a good person~ really means and how reputations & history are very malleable depending on who is recording it??

And then i really started to dig into Saera. Her isolation, her drinking, her sexually tormenting the court fool, the way jaehaerys is always giving her gifts and "indulging" her, the way she's brought before the throne instead of in a private room because what she did is considered like, treasonous basically (what she did being, of course, having sex without her father's permission, lmao!), her very hysterical confrontation with her parents, Jonquil Darke forcing her to watch her boyfriend be murdered, Jaehaerys' insistence on refusing to forgive her and calling her a whore, and of course this weird exchange:

“What have you done?” the king said, when at last the princess ran out of words. “Seven save us, what have you done? Have you given one of these boys your maidenhead? Tell me true.” “True?” said Saera. It was in that moment, with that word, that the contempt came out. “No. I gave it to all three. They all think they were the first. Boys are such silly fools.”

"They all think they were the first." they all think it. i don't think any of those three boys were the first - i think she'd lost her virginity well before she started fooling around with them and when I first read that part my first thought was "I think Jaehaerys knows damn well who she lost her virginity to" and I started spiraling from there.

I decided to do a write up of Jaehaerys Being Deeply Weird Towards His Girls and while there's some things I would change - in particular, I think I'd add more to the Alyssa, Viserra, and Gael sections - there's a reason that the Saera section in particular seemed to really spark off a lot of conversation (not to toot my own horn here lmao) and that reason, imo, is that a lot of people read about what happened between Saera and jaehaerys and go "now what in the goddamn hell is THAT about." Saera more than any of Jaehaerys' kids is imo the canary in the coal mine, so to speak - whatever George intended with F&B, I do think he meant for us to look at the way Jaehaerys talks about Saera and go "this guy has some fucking ISSUES." I don't know that he meant for it to go all the way up to "Jaehaerys is molesting his own kids" route but I do fully believe he meant something in that realm of "Jaaehaerys is cruel to a sexually abusive point to his children" the same way that like, Tywin and Cersei sexually abuse Tyrion but don't outright rape him themselves. I think Jaehaerys was always meant to be aman who is remembered fondly but was an absolute monster in his private life, in contrast to both the kings he succeeded (maegor and aenys) and as a point of comparison to our "modern day" patriarchs who have their own hang ups surrounding their daughters in Tywin, Doran, Ned, Robert, Jon, and Hoster.