#sorry i just get aggressive when talking about things i like

[kisses4reid]

hot | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,

sickness, comfort, spencer panicking slightly, ‘i love you’

just a short one to get me out of a slump, it’s cutesy, classic sick comfort fic. v short.

“Honey, you know how many germs I have right now, you really don’t have to be here.” You batted your eyelashes up at him from your deteriorating state on the couch.

Spencer ignored the nickname, or simply didn’t register it in his worry, “The longer you’re sick the more time the virus has to reproduce and evade your dying immune system. I have to learn to deal with it in order for you to get better.” Spencer spieled, pacing in front of you while wringing his hands.

“Spence, I can take care of myself.” You pleaded, more concerned about his comfort than yours.

“But I want to take care of you. I just have to pretend like you’re not sick when you really are. Badly sick. I don’t like it.”

“You don’t like pretending?” Head tilted, you tightened the blanket around your shoulders.

“I don’t like you being sick. I can deal with germs. I investigate dead bodies most of the time, I’ll be fine. You won’t be.”

You smiled, “Wow. Way to kill my immune system’s confidence.”

“Sorry, I’m trying to pep talk you and myself.” He stopped pacing and looked directly at you, regarding your figure with much concern.

“I know. You’re doing well. I already feel better.” You nodded to encourage him. Things like this was new to him, caring for someone he knew would reciprocate, so you didn’t want him to become insecure about it.

“That’s impossible. You’re still,” he places his hand on your forehead and you sniffle, “burning up.”

“Are you saying I’m hot?”

“Temperature wise, yes. And if you’re trying to insinuate me finding you attractive than yes, that too. I just don’t like the word ‘hot’ to describe you.”

“Why?” Your voice is audibly snotty, it makes you cringe.

“Because you’re not a temperature, you’re a beautiful woman. Who is sick, and needs honey tea.” He places a finger on his lips in thought and nods at his own idea.

“Spence?”

His eyes dart up at the sudden use of his name, “Yeah?”

“I love you.”

His anxious motions halted and his ears reddened, he looked down with a tiny smile that hurt your heart with cuteness aggression. You sneezed very loudly, your leg jerking along with it.

“I love you too. Now, I’m making you tea and some noodles. You sit there and look beautiful.”

taglist - @jeffswh0re @reap3erslov3 @candyd1es @0108s22m @aurorsworld @theoraekenslover @c-losur3 @littlelearningbrat @khxna @laurakirsten0502 @cultish-corner

[dykedvonte]

Hi, I am sorry if someone already asked you this and I completely missed it, but why do you think Anya asked for Jimmy’s help to feed Curly his pills? Swansea and Daisuke were still high-functioning and available when she asked for help. I am having a hard time understanding her thought process about leaving his patient at the mercy of her rapist, someone she was afraid so much that she felt the need to hide gun. Not to mention, she hid that gun under a secret drawer of Curly’s med bay bed too. If I was Anya, I would be scared of the possibility of Jimmy accidentally finding the gun the most. Yet she still took that risk.

We know that it shows how Jimmy can force things to people without their consent, but this is a very meta reasoning, and it says nothing about Anya’s thought process imho. I don’t think Anya was quietly and secretly taking revenge on Curly either. I interpret it as mix of wishful thinking and submission born out of fear due to Jimmy’s new captain status, but I am curious about your analysis as a psych major.

I personally think with the gun, Anya was not concerned about him finding it or looking for in medical. He doesn't know she specifically hid the gun and of all the places he'd look he wouldn't assume she'd keep it in medical, mainly cause he likely believed Curly preemptively hid it instead. Part of the reason I think he committed to crashing the ship is his belief Curly was no longer in his corner in a major way, confronting him about Anya finally proves as much to him but perhaps believing Curly hid the gun, believing that Curly thinks he's dangerous, and that he's screwed at all front at that point.

Anya probably assumed he'd never look under Curly post-crash and she was right in that assumption despite how risky. To be honest, we can take her trying to relieve him of the dealing with Curly is tied to her getting more panicked by the idea of him finding the more he lingers in medical.

I have talked about why she would even ask Jimmy in the first place and honestly I can chalk up the first time he feeds Curly to Anya wanting to get away from him, since he is demeaning and pointed to her the entire conversation since the other times she is comfortable and even implies she's been taking care of Curly herself between the segments Jimmy does it. It's been picked up by some other people but Anya is likely just giving him the tasks because he needs something to do to feel useful and feel fulfilled in the now worthless role as "Captain". I don't think she assumed he'd be so violent with Curly and even if she noticed what is she supposed to say that won't make Jimmy take it out on her or Curly more?

I have to say Anya is consistently concerned in the game with protecting herself and keeping herself safe. I don't think in the moment that she was 100% concerned about Curly being harmed compared to herself. It sounds selfish but its just a basic fear response. She fawns and tries to make Jimmy feel important even tho he's not because it keeps her safe. Making it seem like too much for her or letting him do it after he is aggressive with her or after the likely heavy/nerve-wracking convo with Swansea are all things were she just doesn't want him around anymore. Even if it would be better for Curly for her to stand ground and insist to do it, there is the likely going to be at cost of her mental security and even physical safety when it comes to Jimmy.

[tigerr-cherry]

I need to share my 3am opinions about cotl rn bc I will literally explode and poison the air

[saffitaffi]

So I just read all 914 pages of Fool’s Fate in one day. I don’t think I’ve ever read that much in one day ever. These books are so good holy snickerdoodles I love the politics and the amazing worldbuilding (robin writes matriarchies and different societal structures SO GOOD) and the realistic characters and Fitz’s unreliable narration and also the gay ass ‘friendship’ between him and the fool (fitz ‘no homo but also my bond with you is deeper than my love for anyone else including my other half bonded wolf and my wife and also sex’ farseer)

So uh. Yeah. Excuse me while I go cry in the corner. Again.

[deduction-substitute]

[artificial-ascension]

Am I insane or is Rin's satanic lineage a metaphor for aggression and social misconduct caused by mental illnesses and the mental illnesses stigmatized by these symptoms??? I don't know how to word it perfectly but like.

1. People treat him like a horrible monster the second they learn of his condition, regardless of how much they liked him before

2. As a child, he was written off and shunned for being 'evil' because of actions he couldn't understand as good or bad because he was a literal child

3. Furthermore, he struggles to understand how to connect with and rely people because he's always been shunned which makes him come off as even more 'creepy and weird'

4. His abilities make it hard for him to do nomal tasks (such as hold down jobs)

5. People judge his powers and how he uses them as evil because some other guy also used him for evil

And that's off the top of my head. Like... he just sounds so much like someone with ASPD, autism, schizophrenia, ect, who exhibits aggression or a lack of empathy or psychosis or any other symptom that can make it difficult to exist in 'regular society.'

I have no idea if this was the intended reading, but the way they talk about how hard it is for everyone to live with him and how people doubt if it's worth the trouble to let him live is really reminiscent to me of how people discuss those of us with neurodivergences that make us hard to get along with.

[kakushusband]

Saw someone with a Kaku icon in my notifs and just started going No. No. No no no no. No.

Like sorry man, it's nothing personal. I don't know why I can't stand the thought of strangers even liking him as a character, but it genuinely makes me unwell most of the time.

I'll get over it someday, because I know it does me absolutely no good, but like I said countless times - this year has been inhumane to me so I get irrationally territorial sometimes. I need to sniff you thru a closed door before I trust you.

[silhouettecrow]

365 Days of Writing Prompts: Day 216

Adjective: Pink

Noun: Peach

Definitions for those who need/want them:

Pink: of a color intermediate between red and white, as of coral or salmon; (of wine) rosé; (informal) (often derogatory) having or showing left-wing tendencies; of or associated with gay people

Peach: a round stone fruit with juicy yellow flesh and downy pinkish-yellow skin; a pinkish-yellow color like that of a peach; the Chinese tree that bears peaches; (informal) an exceptionally good or attractive person or thing

[rafesweetie]

in which you’re forced into having a talk with your ex-boyfriend, rafe cameron, on the boat ride to morocco.

being a pogue and rafe cameron’s ex was not easy. although you dated shortly before he killed peterkin, and you were sure he barely even remembered your favourite colour, seeing him blatanly disrespect you and his friends, and go down a path you tried so hard to prevent him from, was hard to watch. but now he’s picked himself up since ward died. you thought you had another chance to at least be on good terms. sending flowers and a card to tanneyhill when ward died, smiling at him when you’d see him around. it didn’t work, he still hated you and your friends.

fortunately, he redeemed himself ever so slightly by volunteering to take the pogues to morocco. rafe had to find chandler groff, you guys wanted the blue crown. it was perfect.

until jj punched him, that is. he knocked him out cold. with a scolding “jj!” coming from majority of the pogues, including you, jj carries him down into the downstairs washroom and ties his wrists to a pole. they don’t trust him, which is fair. you don’t either — you shouldn’t, anyway.

rafe was down there quietly for a mere half hour until he woke up with a groan from his head hitting the ground earlier, followed up with yelling once he realizes he was stuck down there.

all touching your noses and saying ‘not it’ the minute pope suggests someone going down there to check on him, you’re the unlucky one who said it last. shutting up your protests, john b gently coaxes you downstairs, saying things like, “you used to mack on him”, “this is good, you know him”, “he won’t hurt you,” john b leaves you downstairs once you make it to the door of the bathroom. knocking gently, you timidly ask, “can i come in?”

there’s no answer. you can picture him. wrists tied, brows furrowed, eyes closed tightly as his head leans against the wall and towards the ceiling. his gorgeous stressed face. you slowly open the door, peeking your head in. “hi,” you say gently, timid around the scary and aggressive man you have the curse of calling your ex.

“…hey,” rafe says, voice rough as he shuts his eyes tight.

unsure what to say, you awkwardly stand there and stare down at him. “um, i brought asprin,”

“right, right, like i can fuckin’ swallow it. what, you gonna throw it in my mouth like a.. seal or something?” sassy, his upper lip lifts a bit as he thinks about it and isn’t very fond of the idea.

a second of silence as you figure out what to say. “…um, ill just set it down here,” you say, putting the container down beside him. “sorry about your head.”

“yeah, uh, your little boyfriend can’t control his fists, huh?”

“…not my boyfriend,” you correct softly, though you’re not sure why you feel the need to tell him that. “but no one really.. trusts you, rafe, so you kind of brought this on yourself—“

he quickly interrupts you. “bullshit. you know why that’s bullshit? because i was helping. who got you this boat, huh? me. i did. rafe. i’m the reason that you guys aren’t swimming, or some shit, to north africa. i’m being helpful and understanding, and this is what i get. you think that’s fair?” when you’re stood there in silence at his sudden raised voice, he repeats, “you think that’s fucking fair, y/n!?” he kicks a can in anger.

it’s like you’re his girlfriend again as you sit down next to him instantly instead of running. you get deja vu to the time three years ago when he was high on coke and got kicked out of the house. everyone ignored him except for you. “..um, okay, i’m gonna give you some asprin,” you say softly. “help your head. open,” you tell him, grabbing a pill as he gives you a look but opens his mouth. you pop it in his mouth and he dry swallows. “there.”

you two share a look. you don’t think it’s a bad look by any means. he looks frustrated still, but there’s an underlying gentleness in his eyes, as if he registers you’re still the same girl you were when you two were together. “…and, um, for the record, i don’t think it’s fair that you’re down here. you helped us, thats.. nice.”

the word ‘us’ when referring to you and the pogues makes him feel weird. “i don’t get why you hang out with them,” he mutters as he looks at the ground. “tried so fucking hard to keep you away from them when we were.. together.”

“i know,” you whisper, your gaze dropping as well, to his tied wrists. you feel awful. “trust me, your warnings still play in my head when i’m with them sometimes,”

“you remind me of sarah.” he says. you’re not sure what that means.

“you hate sarah,”

“nah, nah— i don’t hate her. hate who she’s turned into,” he adjusts himself. “she makes me sad. i’m sad for her, alright? she had so much potential.“ he shrugs. “but there’s no saving her. she’s in too deep,” he looks back up at you again. “i think there’s saving you, though,”

“…this is weird, rafe,”

“how?” he asks.

“because in the years we’ve been broken up, you’ve never talked to me about this. feels like it’s a… trick or something,”

“it’s not a trick,” he assures, voice still rough. “look, i’m out half a mill, i’m tied up in a bathroom, i’m probably gonna.. die or something. i got nothing to lose, may as well tell you my concern,”

“um, i appreciate it,” you say gently, unsure how to respond. “and i’m gonna go back upstairs.”

“hey— no, woah, woah, woah,” he stops you quickly. “stay. okay?”

“i should go up and help with dinner, though—“

“no, stay. i— i want you to stay, okay? i don’t wanna be down here alone, and i want you away from the pogues,”

he doesn’t wanna be alone. you feel bad for him all over again, nodding gently as you sit back down beside him. you always were so good for rafe.

you’re not sure how long you’ll be down here with him. maybe until it’s late at night and he’s asleep. so gently, after about five minutes of silence, to ease some of the tension and pass the time, you murmur a, “truth or dare?”

rafe just smiles.

[littlelamy]

a/n: the beginning is loosely based of S4 with rafe and sofia! I’m kinda obsessed with rafe being needy behind close doors 🥵I hope you guys enjoy!

you couldn’t stop replaying his words over and over again in your head. each syllable hit harder, cutting deeper than the last. always running her mouth? what. just a hookup, id never date a pogue.

you stood there, behind the slightly ajar door, heart pounding so loudly you were sure it could be heard. but rafe didn’t notice—he was too busy tearing you down with topper, speaking like you were nothing more than a nuisance in his life. he’d never know how those words would haunt you, how the trust you had in him shattered like glass.

your eyes burned with unshed tears, the sharp sting of betrayal settling into the pit of your stomach. but there was something else bubbling just beneath the surface—rage. not the hot, fiery kind that comes and goes. no, this was colder, more calculated. the type that stews, planning its revenge.

your fingers itched to grab your things and leave, but not without making sure he understood who held the power in this relationship. you weren’t going to walk away defeated, not when you could leave him begging for mercy.

so, instead of running, you turned, heart hardening with each step as you walked back into the room, your hands trembling slightly as you pulled out a suitcase from under the bed.

if he thought he could treat you like this, he was about to learn how wrong he was. you weren’t some weak girl who would let this slide. no, rafe was about to see a side of you he never had before.

the door clicked shut behind him, and for a moment, you could hear his confused muttering. "yo, topper, i’ll catch you later."

rafe’s voice rang through the hallway, much closer now, but still carrying the same arrogant tone. you ignored him, hands moving swiftly as you tossed your clothes into the bag, each item thrown more aggressively than the last.

when rafe finally stepped into the room, his eyes immediately fell on you, and panic flickered in his expression. "what the hell are you doing?"

his voice wavered as he took in the scene—your half-packed bag, the angry flush on your cheeks, the tight set of your jaw.

"what does it look like?" you shot back, barely sparing him a glance as you continued packing.

he hesitated, taking a step closer to you, but the sight of your seething rage stopped him in his tracks. "hey, let’s just—let’s talk about this, okay?"

you laughed bitterly, slamming the suitcase shut before finally turning to face him. "oh, now you want to talk?" you snapped, the sharp edge in your voice slicing through the air between you. "funny, because earlier, it seemed like you had plenty to say."

his face paled as realization dawned on him. you watched as his lips parted, searching for words but finding none. for the first time in a long time, rafe cameron was speechless, guilt flooding his features.

"i didn’t—" he started, but you cut him off.

"save it," you hissed, stepping closer to him now, your eyes blazing. "i heard everything, rafe. every. single. word."

rafe’s breath hitched as the full weight of your words crashed down on him. his eyes widened in panic, and he took another shaky step toward you, reaching out as if to touch you, to ground himself in this spiraling nightmare. "i didn’t mean it, baby. i swear, i wasn’t thinking—i was just venting—"

"venting?" you scoffed, stepping back from his touch. "do i look like someone you just 'vent' about, rafe? am i just some girl you get to shit on when i’m not around?" your voice cracked slightly, the hurt bubbling beneath your fury slipping through the cracks.

rafe’s hands trembled as he dropped them to his sides, a strangled sound escaping his throat as he shook his head. "no, no—please, you know i didn’t mean any of that. i was just—" his voice broke, and you watched as his composure started to crumble, tears pooling in his eyes. "i was just talking, okay? i’m sorry, i didn’t mean it. you have to believe me."

but you weren’t about to let him off the hook that easily. your eyes darkened as you stepped even closer to him, your voice dropping to a dangerously low whisper. "if you’re really sorry, rafe, you’re going to have to prove it."

a flicker of hope sparked in his eyes, and he nodded eagerly, desperate to fix what he’d broken. "anything," he breathed, his voice shaky. "i’ll do anything."

you stared him down, watching as he swallowed hard, his adam’s apple bobbing with nervous anticipation. there was no trace of the cocky, confident rafe now. instead, he was a trembling mess, willing to do whatever it took to keep you from walking out that door.

you grabbed your phone from the dresser, starting the recording and letting the soft beep fill the silence. rafe’s eyes widened as he watched you, confusion and curiosity mixing with the fear in his gaze.

"get on your knees," you ordered, your voice firm, leaving no room for hesitation.

rafe blinked, momentarily stunned by the command, but the second your eyes met his, cold and unwavering, he obeyed. he dropped to his knees before you, looking up with wide, tear-filled eyes. the vulnerability radiating off him was palpable, his breath shaky as he knelt before you, completely at your mercy.

"you don’t get to speak," you warned, holding the phone steady as you circled him slowly, capturing his wide eyes, his trembling hands. "you only get to listen and do what i say."

he nodded quickly, his throat tight with emotion as he blinked away the tears threatening to spill down his cheeks.

you positioned yourself on the bed, spreading your legs slightly, and gestured for him to come closer. "you know what to do," you said, your tone soft but commanding.

without a moment’s hesitation, rafe shuffled forward on his knees, his eyes glued to your thighs as he leaned in, his lips pressing soft, tentative kisses along your skin. his breath was hot and shaky, the desperation in every touch making your pulse quicken.

"good boy," you murmured, threading your fingers through his hair and pulling him closer, guiding his mouth exactly where you wanted it. "now, show me how sorry you are."

rafe wasted no time, his tongue flicking against you with a desperation that sent shivers down your spine. his hands gripped your thighs, holding on for dear life as he worked to prove himself, his movements frantic, eager to please.

your head tipped back slightly as a soft sigh escaped your lips, but you quickly regained control, focusing on the phone’s camera in your hand. you adjusted the angle, making sure you captured every second of rafe’s unraveling—his lips swollen and red from the effort, his face flushed, sweat beading on his forehead.

"look at you," you cooed softly, your free hand caressing his cheek. "you’re such a mess for me, aren’t you?"

rafe whimpered in response, the vibrations from his soft sobs sending waves of pleasure through you. his eyes fluttered shut as he pressed his face harder against you, the tears finally spilling over and streaming down his cheeks.

you could feel the shift in him—the way his body trembled beneath your touch, the way his breaths came in ragged, uneven gasps. he was breaking, right in front of you, and the sight sent a surge of power through your veins.

"don’t stop," you whispered, your fingers tugging on his hair as his pace quickened, his tongue working furiously. "not until i say so."

rafe let out a choked sob, his tears soaking into your skin as he continued, his movements growing sloppier, more desperate. you glanced down at him, the sight of his tear-streaked face and swollen lips sending a rush of heat through you.

"you’re mine," you whispered, your voice dripping with possession as you tilted his face up slightly, capturing the tear that rolled down his cheek with your thumb. "and you’ll never forget it."

rafe’s body shuddered at your words, a strangled moan escaping his lips as he clung to you, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps. another tear slipped down his face, and you leaned down, your lips brushing against his cheek, kissing the tear away.

you recorded it all, making sure you caught the exact moment rafe broke for you, his body trembling beneath your touch as he whimpered your name.

"please," he gasped, his voice barely above a whisper. "i’m yours. i’ll never leave you. i love you. please…don’t leave me."

his words were slurred, thick with emotion, and you smiled softly, running your fingers through his hair in a soothing motion.

"good boy," you whispered, pressing one last kiss to his temple as his body finally collapsed against you, completely spent and vulnerable.

slowly, you stopped recording. rafe barely noticed, his head resting against your thigh, still trying to steady his breathing. his tear-streaked face was a picture of surrender.

you stood up, gently pushing him off you, and his body slumped against the mattress, too weak to even protest. you didn’t say a word as you picked up your phone, your fingers tapping with practiced precision.

rafe watched through bleary eyes, his chest still rising and falling with uneven breaths, the reality of the situation not quite sinking in yet.

the video—the raw, intimate recording of rafe at his most vulnerable—was right there, in your hand. the smirk playing at your lips deepened as you attached it to a group chat, the names of topper, kelce, and several other friends flashing across the screen. rafe’s inner circle, the same ones he was so eager to talk big around. they’d all see this.

and then, for the final touch. your fingers hovered over the keyboard for just a moment before typing: looks like the pogue got your boy.

the message was delivered, the little ‘sent’ confirmation making your heart race with satisfaction. the power was now entirely in your hands, and you relished the silence that followed, the calm before the inevitable storm.

rafe blinked, finally realizing what had happened as he noticed the shift in your demeanor. “w-what did you do?” his voice was small, trembling with fear as his eyes darted from your phone to your face, dread sinking in fast.

you leaned down, brushing a lock of hair out of his face with surprising gentleness, and a sweet peck on his lips. “just reminding you who really holds the power here, rafe,” you whispered softly, your voice laced with a wicked edge. “you thought you could talk shit about me behind my back? guess again.”

rafe’s eyes widened as he tried to sit up, his body weak and uncoordinated. “no, no, no—what did you send? please, baby, please!” he pleaded, his voice cracking with desperation.

you straightened up, staring down at him, your smile never faltering. “i sent a little reminder to all your friends. they’ll see it soon enough.”

he scrambled to reach for his phone, but it was too late. his friends were already watching the video, seeing him like they’d never seen him before—broken, crying, at your feet, worshiping you. and with that message—looks like the pogue got your boy—they’d know he wasn’t the powerful rafe cameron anymore. not with you around.

rafe’s breath hitched, panic surging through his veins as his phone buzzed incessantly on the bedside table. “no,” he whimpered, tears spilling over again, pure terror flashing in his eyes as he looked up at you, utterly helpless, still with a needy gaze.

you bent down one last time, tilting his chin up so he could meet your gaze, your thumb gently brushing against his swollen lips. “next time you even think about talking behind my back,” you whispered, “remember this moment. because there’s more where that came from.”

with that, you walked away, leaving rafe alone in the room, his phone lighting up with messages from his friends, the weight of his humiliation crushing him.

you didn’t even glance back as the door clicked shut behind you, a satisfied smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

you owned him now. completely.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0

[solxamber]

Idia cater and octanivelle (seperate) with a reader s/o who gets cuteness aggression towards their boyfriend, dragging him to privacy if they arent already in it so they can smother to boy with kisses and then just leaving them be like they just did the most normal thing, leaving the characters to react in their own ways perhaps please?

Cuteness Agression with: Idia, Cater, Octatrio

a/n: i loved the ask omg i was giggling the entire time i was writing it. sorry for the really long wait and i hope you like it

Part 2: Malleus, Rook, Lilia, Jamil, Riddle, Leona

Idia Shroud

Idia had never considered himself cute. If anything, he was the exact opposite of what someone might find remotely attractive—awkward, perpetually hunched over, and most likely to combust if too many people looked at him at once. But then, there was you.

You, with your sunshine-like enthusiasm and boundless energy, who had the audacity to look at him—his mess of blue flames, oversized hoodie, and permanently slouched posture—and declare him the cutest thing you’d ever seen.

At first, he thought it was a joke. Surely, you couldn’t be serious. But as time passed, it became glaringly obvious: you were dead serious.

It started on a quiet afternoon. You’d found Idia tucked away in his room as usual, gaming with a focus so intense he didn’t even notice you entering. His lips were pressed into a slight pout, his brows furrowed, and his hair glowed faintly with concentration.

And that was it. Something in your brain snapped.

You didn’t even say anything, just marched over, grabbed his wrist, and pulled him out of his chair.

“H-Hey! What are you—?!” Idia stammered, flailing as you dragged him out of the room and down the hall. “I’m in the middle of a raid! I can’t just leave! My party’s gonna—”

You shoved open the door to an empty lounge, ignoring his protests, and pushed him onto the couch. Before he could even process what was happening, you pounced.

“You’re so cute, I can’t stand it!” you half-yelled, squishing his cheeks in your hands and pressing a flurry of kisses all over his face.

Idia froze. His brain blue-screened. “Wh-What—?!”

“Nope, no talking,” you said, absolutely drunk on how adorable he looked when he was flustered. You kissed him again, your hands cradling his face like he was some precious, fragile thing. “You’re so cute, it’s criminal! I’m putting you under arrest.”

“Th-That’s not—! Y-You can’t just—!” Idia’s protests were muffled by your relentless affection. His flames sparked and flickered wildly, betraying just how utterly overwhelmed he was.

After several long moments, you finally relented, leaning back to admire your work. Idia’s face was a brilliant shade of red, his hair practically sparking like fireworks. He looked dazed, his wide golden eyes staring at you like you’d just dropped from the sky.

“See? Absolutely adorable,” you said smugly, crossing your arms like you’d just won some grand debate.

Idia sputtered, burying his face in his hands. “Y-You can’t just ambush me like that! W-What if someone saw?!”

You grinned, leaning forward to gently pull his hands away from his face. “No one saw, and even if they did, so what? You’re my boyfriend, and I reserve the right to smother you in kisses whenever I feel like it.”

Idia groaned, though there was no real heat behind it. “You’re gonna give me a heart attack one day, I swear...”

“Worth it,” you teased, poking his cheek playfully.

From that day on, Idia learned to recognize the look.

Whenever your eyes lit up with that dangerous mix of adoration and mischief, he knew what was coming.

“Wait, wait, wait—” he’d say, hands raised as if to fend you off. “Let’s talk about this! Let’s be rational—!”

But it was always too late.

No matter where you were—whether in the library, the cafeteria, or even in the middle of a gaming session—you’d drag him off to a secluded spot, showering him with affection until he was a stuttering, blushing mess.

And the worst part? He couldn’t even be mad about it.

Because, deep down, a part of him liked it.

Liked how unapologetically you loved him. Liked how your touch, your laughter, your relentless affection made him feel like maybe—just maybe—he was worth all the trouble.

Even if it left him blushing for hours afterward.

Cater Diamond

Cater Diamond loved attention. Loved being in the spotlight, basking in the glow of likes, comments, and shares. What he didn’t anticipate was being the target of your unique brand of attention—a combination of relentless affection and an overwhelming urge to smother him every time you deemed him too cute to function.

Which, as it turned out, was all the time.

It started with something simple: Cater had been showing you his latest MagiCam post. He was talking animatedly about angles, filters, and hashtags, and his grin was so radiant, his enthusiasm so infectious, that your brain short-circuited.

“Cute,” you muttered under your breath. But then you looked at him again—the sparkle in his green eyes, the playful way he stuck out his tongue as he scrolled through his phone—and it hit you like a freight train.

“You’re so cute, I can’t handle it!” you practically yelled, grabbing him by the wrist and pulling him out of the classroom before he could protest.

Cater stumbled after you, his phone clattering to the floor. “Whoa, whoa! What’s the rush? Did I—?”

You didn’t let him finish. The moment you found an empty hallway, you spun around, cupped his cheeks, and peppered his face with kisses. “Why are you so cute all the time? It’s illegal. Illegal, Cater.”

His cheeks flushed pink as he let out a surprised laugh. “Uh… I didn’t know being adorable was a crime? Should I call the guards?”

“Yes,” you huffed dramatically. “Call them. Tell them I’m guilty of having too much cuteness aggression, and you’re the victim.”

Cater blinked, momentarily stunned into silence, and then broke into a grin so wide it could’ve lit up the entire school. “Wow, you’re like my personal hype squad! This is the best day ever.”

From that day forward, Cater learned to recognize the warning signs.

Whenever you got that look—the one where your eyes sparkled and your hands fidgeted like you were holding yourself back—he knew he was in for it.

“Let’s chill for a second,” he’d say, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “We’re in public! Don’t you wanna save this for, I dunno, somewhere private?”

You’d smile sweetly. Too sweetly. “Nope.”

And before he could escape, you’d grab him and whisk him away to some hidden corner of the school.

“Seriously, what did I even do this time?” Cater would ask, though his laughter betrayed any attempt at indignation.

“You exist, Cater,” you’d reply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “And you’re cute, and I can’t stand it, so hold still.”

Cue more kisses, and more of Cater melting into a giggling mess under your relentless affection.

One afternoon, you found him lounging on the couch in the Heartslabyul lounge, scrolling through his MagiCam feed. He’d tossed on one of his oversized sweaters, and his hair was slightly mussed like he’d just rolled out of bed.

It was too much. Your self-control snapped like a twig.

“Okay, that’s it,” you said, marching over.

Cater looked up just in time to see you barreling toward him. “Oh no, not again—! Babe, wait! Let me post first—!”

You tackled him onto the couch, smothering him in kisses as he laughed and squirmed beneath you. “You’re insane!”

“And you’re adorable!” you shot back, holding his face like it was the most precious thing in the world. “It’s a problem.”

Cater gave up resisting, his arms wrapping around your waist as he laughed breathlessly. “Well, I guess there are worse problems to have than being attacked by my cute, affectionate partner”

You kissed the tip of his nose, grinning down at him. “That’s right. You should feel honored.”

“Totally,” Cater said with a wink, though the flush in his cheeks and the soft look in his eyes betrayed how much he really meant it.

Cater might have been used to playing roles, putting on masks to charm the world, but with you, there were no masks. No filters. Just him, basking in your unfiltered love, and loving every second of it. Even if it meant being smothered in kisses every time you found him too cute to handle.

Which, to your credit, was all the time.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul Ashengrotto prided himself on being composed, professional, and, above all, respectable. He was a businessman, a contract wizard, a man of strategy. What he absolutely wasn't prepared for was how you, his beloved, had a penchant for completely derailing his carefully curated image with something as ridiculous as cuteness aggression.

And by the Sea Witch, you were relentless.

It started one evening in the Mostro Lounge. Azul had been reviewing paperwork behind the bar, his brow furrowed in concentration, glasses perched delicately on his nose. His pen moved with precise efficiency, the soft scratch of ink on parchment the only sound as he reviewed the latest inventory reports.

You were supposed to be helping, but instead, you found yourself distracted. Watching the way his fingers tapped lightly on the countertop, how his silver hair gleamed under the soft lounge lighting, and the faint pout of his lips as he puzzled over a tricky calculation… it was too much. The man was criminally adorable.

“Azul,” you said suddenly, voice tinged with barely suppressed glee.

He hummed, not looking up. “Yes, my dear?”

You didn’t reply, instead marching over to him with a determined look.

Azul glanced up just in time to see you close the distance between you, a dangerous gleam in your eyes. “W-Wait, what are you—?”

Before he could finish his sentence, you grabbed his wrist, tugging him out of his chair with surprising strength.

“Hey!” he yelped, stumbling after you. “I’m working! The reports—!”

“Can wait,” you interrupted firmly, dragging him into one of the private booths.

“Honestly, what has gotten into—”

His protests were cut off as you shoved him onto the cushioned seat and cupped his face in your hands, your eyes sparkling with adoration.

“You’re so cute,” you said, and the way your voice wavered with sheer affection sent Azul’s heart racing.

“I—what?” he sputtered, his composure crumbling.

“You’re so cute,” you repeated, practically vibrating with energy. “I can’t stand it. I have to kiss you. Right now.”

Azul’s face turned a brilliant shade of red, his glasses slipping slightly down his nose. “T-That’s hardly appropriate—!”

You didn’t let him finish, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead, then his cheeks, then his lips.

Azul went completely still, his brain scrambling to process what was happening. His carefully constructed persona, the one he worked so hard to maintain, was nowhere to be found. Instead, he was just a blushing, flustered mess, completely at your mercy.

When you finally pulled back, his wide-eyed expression made you giggle. “There. Much better,” you said, sitting back with a satisfied smile.

Azul blinked at you, utterly speechless. He adjusted his glasses with trembling fingers, trying—and failing—to regain some semblance of dignity. “Y-You can’t just… do that!”

“Sure I can,” you replied, unrepentant. “You’re my boyfriend. It’s in the job description.”

Azul opened his mouth to argue but faltered when he saw the way you were smiling at him—like he was the most precious thing in the world. His heart stuttered, and he looked away, flustered beyond belief.

“You’re insufferable,” he muttered, though there was no real heat behind his words.

“And you love it,” you teased, leaning in to steal another kiss.

From that moment on, Azul realized he had to be on high alert.

You had a habit of striking at the most unexpected times. Whether he was mid-negotiation, organizing the lounge staff, or simply trying to enjoy a quiet cup of tea, you always found a way to pull him aside and smother him with affection.

“We’re in public,” he’d hiss, his face bright red as you kissed his knuckles in the middle of the lounge. “What will the customers think?”

“They’ll think I’m the luckiest person in the world,” you replied with a grin, completely unfazed.

“You’re impossible,” Azul groaned, burying his face in his hands.

But despite his protests, there was a small, secret part of him that loved it. Loved the way you looked at him with stars in your eyes. Loved the way you laughed when he got flustered. Loved the way you made him feel like he was more than just a businessman, more than just the awkward, insecure octo-mer he used to be.

He would never admit it aloud, of course—his pride wouldn’t allow it. But the next time you grabbed his hand and dragged him away with that mischievous glint in your eye, Azul didn’t resist nearly as much as he claimed he would.

Because, really, who was he to deny you?

Jade Leech

Jade Leech was many things—elegant, composed, a touch unnerving when the moment called for it—but "cute" wasn’t exactly the first adjective that came to mind for most. For you, however, the sight of him was downright devastating.

The poised way he carried himself, the sly curve of his lips when he smiled, the faint glint of mischief in his mismatched eyes—it was all so unbearably adorable that it practically short-circuited your brain.

And it wasn’t like you could keep it to yourself. No, you had to act on it. Every time.

The first time it happened, you were sitting in the Mostro Lounge, watching Jade work. He moved with his usual grace, balancing trays, speaking softly to patrons, and wearing that infuriatingly charming smile that made your heart race.

“Are you alright?” His smooth voice cut through your daze. He was standing right in front of you now, head tilted ever so slightly, curiosity evident on his face.

You blinked, realizing you’d been staring. “Uh… yeah! Just… appreciating you.”

Jade’s smile widened. “How flattering. And what, pray tell, have I done to earn such attention?”

Oh, no. He was being cute and smug about it. That did it. You couldn’t take it anymore.

Grabbing his wrist, you tugged him behind the lounge counter, away from the prying eyes of the customers. “Jade, I can’t—I need to—just stay still!”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused but also intrigued. “Stay still for what, exactly?”

You didn’t answer, too busy cupping his face and pressing kisses all over it. His forehead, his cheeks, his nose—every inch of him was a target.

“Oh...” His voice trailed off, his usual composed demeanor slipping as he blinked down at you, utterly flabbergasted. “What… are you doing?”

“Kissing you, obviously,” you mumbled between smooches, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Jade chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your lips as you kissed his jawline. “I see that. But why the sudden… enthusiasm?”

“Because you’re too cute,” you declared, pulling back just enough to look him in the eye. “And if I don’t do this, I’ll explode. It’s science.”

Jade’s smile shifted into something softer, warmer. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, simply studying your flushed, determined face. Then, with a low hum of approval, he gently wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer.

“Well, far be it from me to stand in the way of scientific necessity,” he teased, leaning in to steal a kiss of his own.

From that point on, your "cuteness attacks" became a regular occurrence.

Whether he was reorganizing the terrarium in the Mostro Lounge, brewing potions in the lab, or simply enjoying a quiet moment with tea, you always found a way to interrupt him with your overwhelming affection.

“Dear,” he said one evening, as you practically tackled him onto the couch in the lounge’s VIP room. “You know I had work to finish, yes?”

“Uh-huh,” you replied, pinning him beneath you as you kissed his nose.

“And you’re aware this is highly disruptive?”

“Yup,” you said, grinning as you kissed the corner of his lips.

Jade sighed, but the way his arms came up to wrap around you betrayed his true feelings. “You are incorrigible,” he murmured, his voice fond.

“Thank you,” you replied cheerfully, planting one final kiss on his forehead before letting him sit up.

But Jade wasn’t one to let you have all the fun.

One afternoon, after dragging him away from his duties yet again to smother him with kisses, you found yourself suddenly spun around and pinned gently against the wall.

“Now, now,” he said, his voice low and teasing as he leaned in close. “It seems only fair that I get a turn, wouldn’t you agree?”

Your breath hitched as his mismatched eyes glinted with amusement, and before you could respond, he leaned in to press a kiss to your temple. Then your cheek. Then your jaw.

“J-Jade!” you stammered, your face heating up.

“Yes, my dear?” he replied, entirely too smug as he trailed his lips to the corner of your mouth.

“This—this isn’t how it’s supposed to go!”

He chuckled, finally pulling back to look at you. “Oh? And how is it supposed to go?”

You pouted, crossing your arms. “I’m supposed to be the one attacking you with affection, not the other way around!”

Jade smiled, a rare, genuine expression that made your heart skip a beat. “I suppose turnabout is fair play, wouldn’t you say?”

And as he leaned in to kiss you again, you decided that, yeah, maybe it was.

Floyd Leech

Being in a relationship with Floyd Leech meant two things: chaos and spontaneity. But what Floyd didn’t expect was the level of cuteness aggression you’d unleash on him daily.

It started innocently enough. Floyd would flash you one of his sharp-toothed grins, or he’d laugh that unhinged laugh of his, and you’d feel your entire brain short-circuit.

His mismatched eyes, the way his hair fell over his face, the effortless energy he carried—it all combined into something so painfully adorable that you couldn’t handle it.

And you didn’t.

The first incident occurred in the Mostro Lounge during a busy shift. Floyd was juggling three trays like a circus act, laughing at a poor customer’s flustered expression. You were seated at the counter, watching him, and suddenly, it hit you.

“Shrimpyyy! What’re ya staring at?” Floyd called, his grin only widening as he caught you watching him.

Bad move. That grin. That grin was your undoing.

You slammed a tip down on the counter and marched straight up to him. “Floyd. Put the trays down.”

“Huh? But—”

“Put them down,” you said, grabbing his wrist and dragging him behind the counter before he could even think to protest.

“Oi, Shrimpy, what’s the deal?!”

“You. Are. Too. Cute!” you hissed, before cupping his face and attacking him with kisses.

“Wha—hey!” Floyd’s laughter echoed through the empty kitchen as you smothered his cheeks, nose, and forehead with kisses. “You’re so weird! I love it!”

By the time you were done, Floyd’s face was flushed (a rare sight), and his laughter had turned soft, almost shy.

“Shrimpy,” he said, his voice quieter than usual. “You’re lucky I like ya so much. Otherwise, I’d squeeze ya for embarrassin’ me like this.”

You grinned, pulling him in for one last peck on the lips. “You love it.”

“…Yeah, I do,” he admitted, the grin returning full force.

This became a regular thing. Anytime Floyd did something that struck you as particularly adorable—whether it was his lazy, stretched-out posture during naps, the way his lips pouted when he was annoyed, or even the way he lit up like a kid when he got his favorite snacks—you’d pounce.

“Shrimpy, you’re at it again!” he’d laugh, squirming in your arms as you peppered kisses all over his face. “What’s the big idea, huh?”

“You’re too cute. I can’t stand it,” you’d reply every time, as if that explained everything.

And for Floyd, it kind of did.

One particularly memorable incident happened during a basketball game. Floyd was on fire, scoring point after point while practically dancing across the court. His energy was infectious, and you couldn’t help but cheer louder than anyone else in the stands.

When the game ended and his team won, Floyd looked up at you, his grin wide, sweat dripping down his face, and he yelled, “Did ya see that, Shrimpy?! I’m the MVP!”

That was it. That was the moment. You didn’t even wait for him to come to you. You climbed down from the bleachers, sprinted across the court, and tackled him in a hug.

“Shrimpy! What’re ya—”

“You’re so cute when you’re excited!” you exclaimed, kissing his sweaty cheek.

The entire gym went silent as everyone stared, but Floyd? Floyd cackled so loudly that it echoed off the walls.

“Ha! You’re unbelievable, Shrimpy,” he said, hugging you back tightly. “But I like that about ya. Keep it comin’!”

It wasn’t just in public, either. Even in quiet moments, Floyd basked in your affection.

One night, as the two of you lounged on the couch in your dorm, Floyd rested his head on your lap, dozing lightly. His peaceful expression, the way his lashes rested against his cheek, the soft rise and fall of his chest—it was too much.

“Floyd,” you whispered, nudging him gently.

He opened one eye, looking up at you. “Hmm? What’s up, Shrimpy?”

“You’re adorable,” you said simply, leaning down to kiss his forehead.

He chuckled, shifting to wrap his arms around your waist. “Man, you’re obsessed with me, huh?”

“Yep. Totally obsessed.”

“Good,” he said, pulling you down so you were lying on top of him. “’Cause I’m obsessed with ya too.”

Floyd might have been unpredictable and chaotic, but there was one constant in his life: you, and the relentless affection you showered him with.

And if anyone dared to comment on it, Floyd would just grin, throw an arm around you, and say, “What? Shrimpy can’t help themselves. I’m irresistible, duh!”

Masterlist

[snoopyearss]

When jjk characters call you ‘clingy’

Feat. crybaby-ish!reader

Gojo, geto, toji

Cw: hurt, guilt, angst (if you squint)

This is inspiration from a mini series i read a few days ago by user @fumekara. It was so good, I love me some angst to hurt/comfort.

But i also wrote this from personal experience too, my bad yall i treat this like my own personal diary

Anyway, enjoy!

Satoru Gojo

He was pissed. He doesn’t typically show it much, but when he does, he gets kind of scary. He’s more quiet, his voice gets deeper, and his whole body language just shifts. So when the higher-ups piss him off after a very long meeting, the last thing he needs is someone to pounce on him. He usually loves it when you greet him at the door when you’re home for work. But today, he just wanted to strip off his clothes and hop into bed.

Gojo huffs as he leaves the elevator of your shared apartment and grabs his keys from his pocket to unlock the door. As he opens the door, he sees you in the kitchen grabbing ingredients for dinner. “Hi baby,” You softly greeted him. “Hey.” was all he said back. It confused you for a second because he’s never greeted you like that before.

“Is everything okay?” You walk up to him to try to kiss him on his cheek. “God- Y/n, please.” He grumbled, walking right past you and placing his briefcase on the table. “I’m just trying to help,” you defended, walking up to take his coat off for him. “At least let me take your coat-” That’s when he snapped. Something he’s never done to you before. “Y/n, I fuckin’ got it! Geez, you’re so fucking clingy!” He aggressively shrugged your hands off his shoulder. It scared you a bit, to see him so angry at you. You were confused, all you wanted to do was make him feel better. Were you really that clingy?

“I-I’m sorry.” your voice came out shaky and defeated. Hearing how small your voice sounded in response to him lashing out made Satoru’s heart shatter into thousands of pieces. He wanted to turn around and apologize, but the words weren’t coming out. By the time he turned to face you, Your back was already facing him, preparing dinner for the both of you as tears rolled down your face.

Suguru Geto

It was 2 weeks after Suguru deflected. 2 weeks since he committed mass murder in that village. 2 weeks since he left Satoru, Shoko, and the others. It was weighing on him and you could tell. Nothing but him, his two adopted girls, a few people who believed in his cause, and you.

You promised him you would go wherever he would go, and he was so grateful for it. He loves you deeply and would do anything for you. But some days just threw everything on him at one time, today was one of those days. Monkeys non-sorcerers begging him to exercise curses left and right, Nanako and Mimiko begging him to take them shopping, missing payments from those begging for his service. It was all too much. And the guilt was eating away at him.

He genuinely wasn’t paying attention to what you were saying and it annoyed him how much talking you were doing in his ear at that moment. You were both sitting outside watching the two girls play in the yard. “Y/n,” He interrupted you. “Don’t you have something better to do than to just bother me?” He sighed sounding so condescending. “What do you mean?”

“Must you always cling to me? Isn’t there something else you can do besides following me everywhere I go, at all times of the day?!” His voice raised a bit as if he was talking to a non-sorcerer. “I didn’t realize I was. I was only trying to tell you about what me and the girls did today,” You defended. “You’re always so busy, I rarely get to see you anymore.”

“Yeah, because you’re always underneath me. Sometimes-” He stopped mid-sentence because of the saddened look on your face. His eyes softened a bit. “Sometimes I just need my space.” He sighed. You only nodded and started to walk back inside. “Ok, I understand.” Your voice cracked. Leaving Suguru alone to think about what he had just said to you. As if he didn’t feel guilt then, he definitely feels guilt now.

Toji Fushiguro

Toji was a bit frustrated today. He was cheated out of his money after doing a side job, the bet he placed on the race he kept constantly telling you about fell through, leaving him with zero, and to top it all off, the child support payment was coming up. You being an empath and knowing your boyfriend so well, you wanted to help him any way you could.

He was sitting in the chair by the island in the kitchen with his fingers combing through his hair. He was on the phone with multiple people at once, trying to solve his money issues. “Shiu, you guaranteed me way more money than this! How am I supposed to cover this months child support with this amount?!” You walked up to where he was, wondering what all the commotion was about. “Baby?” You softly called out. You could hear Shiu on the other line trying to calm him down and explain the situation.

“That sounds like a bunch of bull and you know it Shiu, you better have my money by next week thursday or else I’m taking it myself.” He grumbled and hung up the phone. “Baby,” You gently placed a hand on his broad shoulder.

“What, Y/n.” He sternly said. You merely blinked a few times. “I was just checking to see if you were okay. What’s with the attitude?”

“I’m fuckin’ frustrated okay? Please leave. You aren’t helping right now.” He waved you off.

“I barely did anything, I just wanted to know if you needed help with anything-”

“Jesus, I said enough! I don’t need your help. Fuck, you’re so clingy.” His voice booming caused you to remove your hand from his shoulder in fear. Seeing your reaction caused him to think about what he said and how he said it. The last think he wanted to do was scare you. He wanted you to feel safe around him. But with the way you jumped at how he raised his voice, it saddened him a bit.

“Y/n, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-” He was cut off by the sound of his child wailing in the background. “I’ll take care of it.” You said in the smallest voice, not even leaving him time to protest against it and apologize.

“Fuck.”

Part 2

[a-substantial-trash-pile]

Catalyst

so in my au which i'm totally not using to cope or anything haha, after realizing that curly isn't going to do anything about jimmy, anya confides in swansea and he goes Protective Dad Mode. i'm calling this the "Responsibility AU." ramble below cut.

swansea doesn't immediately go after jimmy with an axe or anything because 1. they're not in a high stress life/death crash situation and 2. anya specifically requests that swansea not enact violence upon jimmy after swansea says, and i quote, "i'm gonna beat his ass." anya just wants to feel safer and more supported on the ship—she doesn't want swansea to get in trouble even if jimmy does deserve to get destroyed by 10000 punches.

what swansea can do is watch out for anya and make sure she's never alone in a room with jimmy. if there's a situation where she has to be alone with jimmy (like the psych evals), she and swansea have a system where she can signal for help. with anya's permission, swansea asks daisuke to help look out for her too (without telling him the details as to why since that's anya's right to share or not). daisuke has already picked up at this point that something is wrong based on how much more hostile swansea's become towards jimmy, and he trusts his boss, so he agrees without much question.

anya, feeling less alone now that she has people watching her back, gains more confidence to stand up to jimmy. which makes him angry because his unwanted advances are being denied and swansea and daisuke keep getting in his way. he just can't understand why he's being treated as the bad guy here (this is because he is a delusional asshole).

meanwhile curly is slowly realizing that he needs to actually do something here because the tension in the crew is palpable and increasing by the day. also swansea is being mighty passive aggressive to him and talking about "responsibility" a lot. curly keeps trying to talk to jimmy about it but the guy just keeps downplaying it and blaming everyone else but himself. and curly is realizing that his friend isn't who he thought he was.

it all comes to a head one day when an angry jimmy tries to confront anya alone and swansea steps in. things get heated, people start yelling. curly show up to see swansea and jimmy on the verge of fighting with anya and daisuke trying to hold them back respectively. curly breaks up the fight. jimmy storms off. curly follows him and finds him trying to get the gun from the case in the cockpit. curly asks him why he's doing this and jimmy claims it's for his own protection because he feels "threatened by swansea." he tells curly to give him the code. curly, the sheer wrongness of the whole situation hitting him, finally calls jimmy out on all his bs. jimmy just laughs in his face, still believing that he's not in the wrong and curly doesn't have the guts to do anything anyway. so the captain fires him on the spot. jimmy snaps and he and curly get into a fight in the cockpit. jimmy is trying to crash the ship and curly is trying to stop him. then the rest of the crew show up and anya knocks jimmy's ass out with the gun case. swansea is so proud.

they throw jimmy in the cryopod so they don't have to worry about him pulling anything else and he can be properly dealt with once the stupid delivery is over. everyone's like, "wow that was a close one—could you imagine how messed up it would be if we ended up in a crash because of jimmy? thank god that didn't happen." curly makes swansea the copilot until they can get a replacement and swansea's like, "goddammit as if i don't already do enough shit around here."

anyway my whole goal here was to get rid of jimmy early so i can have beautiful Found Family shenanigans in space with the rest of the crew. apologies and healing and happy times will happen. no the whole getting laid off thing doesn't happen. no i don't have an explanation for it. sorry for the essay.

[atrirose]

𝒥 : PLACES THEY LOVE TO KISS — enha

はい bf!enha x f!r . . . 🍵 warning. kissing duh ! + FLUFF ★ seiu msg: wanna get back on to writing stuff soon in the mean time enjoy this! rbs/feedbacks are appreciated

— HEESEUNG LEE

heeseung loves kissing your neck because he knows it gets you hot and bothered, he loves the sudden shocked squeak you let out when he random kisses your neck, he came behind you, gracing his cold lips on your neck “AH what’s wrong with you seung” you turned towards him, your hand on the place he kissed “my lips are cold, i ate ice cream” he said pulling you back “so?”

“so i gotta warm them up” he said as he bit ur neck lightly, kissing it, his breath leaving tingling feels down your spine, something about neck kisses just makes you feel light headed “i know you love it princess” he whispered, his hands roaming around your body as he blabbers like a loser.

— JAY PARK

jay loves kissing your lips, though it very common but for him it is special, he love the feeling of his lips against yours, especially after you put on lipgloss or lipstick “jayyyy i just put it on, look it’s all smeared and on your lips too” you said frustrated as you try to fix your lipstick, “it’s a nice colour i like it on you” he said snaking his hands again around your waist as he turns you around “doesn’t give you an excuse to ruin it, and we have to go or else we will be late to the party” you said resisting his touch as he leaned over again.

“doesn’t matter” he said as his lips moved against yours, his hands around you waist, him teasing your lips by lightly nipping on it, your hands in his hair tousling it.

“we got stuck in the traffic sorry” he said to his friend as you shot him glares, did i forget to tell you that he loves kissing you when you are mad at him? works like a charm, all the anger goes poof.

— JAKE SIM

jake loves to nom on your cheeks , he says it’s like bread. he loves to peck your cheeks at any given moment, or just have his face smooshed by yours, if he could he could live under your skin. jake likes to bite your cheeks while pecking them despite being warned a hundred times to not, but how can you resist his puppy eyes.

sometimes he get this kissing aggression towards you where he just keep on kissing and giggling as you try to escape him “jake too much” you say as he kissed you all over your face, “not enough” he said as he continues smooching your cheeks, biting them “nom, you taste like strawberries” jake hugs you as he calms down, cuddling you.

— SUNGHOON PARK

he loves collarbone kisses, loves to randomly feather kisses around your collarbone while cuddling, exact reason that despite being so tall he like you be a small spoon most of the times, likes to be a princess “hoon it tickles” you said as he pressed kisses, he loves when you wear off shoulder as he gives him easy excess but if not then he just pulls the piece of clothing you are wearing to expose your collarbone, now that has gotten him in trouble when he accidentally rip your clothing’s neckline but that obviously never stopped him.

“i will get you more mmm” he said as he kept kissing you, he loves to inhale the soft and mild scent of your perfume.

— SUNOO KIM

loves to kiss your forehead, to appreciate even the smallest of things you do for him, while that’s very sweet of him and you love it with all your heart, there are times when he likes to annoy you by kissing you after applying your lip tint so now you have kiss mark on your forehead, or kissing it and then telling how small you are.

towers over you sometimes so you look up at him and he can kiss your forehead.

“i got nice scores this time” you told sunoo as he smiles and kisses you forehead “im proud of you love”

— JUNGWON YANG

he likes to kiss your nose, just a little boop to make you laugh, you talking about your day? oh he is so in love, boop, you are cooking? he is drawn in by your beauty, boop, you are just laying around? you look so cute, he can’t believe you are his, boop.

“why do you like kissing my nose so much” he looks at you as he smiles, eyes closing like a cat as he kisses your nose “because you are cute” it’s a way he expresses his love, it’s his way of saying he treasures you and a simple expression of his limitless love for you

— RIKI NISHIMURA

he loves to bury his face in your neck after a long day and kiss your shoulders, just like sunghoon he loves when you wear off shoulder dress or else he just pulls on them, but lucky for him you wear his oversized hoodies all the time so it’s easy to gain excess, sometimes it’s hard to express who he feels, or how much he loves you so he just kisses your shoulder and hope you understand his attempt to say ‘i love you’s’.

“what’s wrong baby” you asked as you played with hair as he buried his face in the crook of your neck “just tired” he said nuzzling “aww poor baby” you said as you kissed his head “you better not tell how act with you” he warned you still kissing your shoulders.

“like a baby? AHH-” your giggles turned into sudden shock as he bites you “oh that left a mark” you smacked him with a pillow as he laughed and dodged it “not tired anymore huh?” you said pouting moving away from him just to get pulled back to his lap “i am” he pecked you “meanie” he snicked at your pouty lips before kissing it.

[i-starcreamed]

Hi!, can I get some headcanons of transformers one character being jealous and the reader teases them.

D-16, Orion, Sentinel, Badassatron, and elita.

TF-ONE X READER

I tried to make this silly I'm feeling silly...enjoy

Post includes all of above :3

D-16

Tries to act unaffected by it, but doesn’t make a huge deal

Usually

He’s usually nice about it

Let’s say a bot is being really friendly with you, they’re making you laugh and everything. D sees from the distance, then comes up to you. Placing a servo against the small of your back-frame. “Heyy what’s so funny? I want to hear too :)”

He’s forcing a smile so bad.

He’s harmless, man, he trusts you completely

If another bot is for real flirting with you though, he's going to be so passive-aggressive

It’s more like he wants ur attention lol

If you teased him about it he’s going to deny it so hard

"What? No, no no.. I’m not jealous..pfft"

If you’re extra sweet maybe he’ll admit it

NOO y/n.. I’m funnier than them anyway.. I’m cooler too..

Orion

Don’t get jealous often either

He trusts you, he’s trustful of most bots

He gets jealous when you don't give him enough attention too

You’ll be talking to someone and he’ll just be in the background like,

“I’m..Y/N? Hey I..y/n? Uhm..I'm..right here..”

He’s so awkward, he doesn’t want to be rude to either of you but he’s lonely!!

If you tease him about looking sad when you’re not looking at him all the time, he’ll softly scoff.

"Well...yeah. They were flirting with you.."

sad puppy eyes

"Orion..they were asking me about Sentinels speech yesterday.."

"Oh...sorry."

eughhh

Sentinel

Oh boy

It’s a mix of irritation and jealousy

Why are you looking at someone else! When you can be looking at him!

He might be an attention seeker. He’ll just say things to catch your attention.

“Hey sweetspark, come look at my new paint job!” He calls you over as you're busy talking to someone else, he looks exactly the same btw

If you teased him I feel like he’ll take it way too seriously

“Jealous? What is there to be jealous of?? I’m literally Sentinel??”

But then his insecurity starts

“Wait…do you like talking to them more?”

evil sad puppy eyes

He'll only be content if you feed him compliments. Also erm..never talk to that bot again

#toxic

If he can’t demote the bot he was jealous of, he’ll try to one-up them, otherwise they are FIRED

After he gets over it he’ll be extra affectionate. You also get affectionate when you tease him so maybe it’s not so bad after all

insert makeout session

B-127

Badassatron

He’s definitely a bit attention and touch-starved after being stuck in low levels for who knows how many years

It’s only logical that he’s glued to your side for the rest of your life

If he’s jealous it’s very obvious. He tries to do something to get your attention or awkwardly stands there

Hey y/n look at this! - Does a backflip and falls

Tease him about it and he gets flustered

"Whattt? No, I’m not jealous!" He lets out a cocky laugh

“Ok maybe a little..”

Kiss his faceplate all over and he’s yours

He's definitely the least harmful

If he's jealous about a bot he particularly dislikes or they're flirting with you out and about, he might be more passive-aggressive about it

"Hey don't mean to intrude or anything, but uh, I'm kinda busy with my PARTNER. And by PARTNER I mean we're together. Yeah, uh huh! So, if you don't mind, my PARTNER and I are going to ignore you now. Since we're y'know..busy being together."

Elita

She’s smug about her jealousy, but only you could tell

“No, I’m not jealous. What makes you think that?”

Meanwhile, she’s giving the nastiest glare to the other bot.

“You really need to stop bringing their hopes up. Did you hear the way they were flirting with you?”

“Elita...they were just thanking me."

“Don’t even look at them actually"

If you tease her, she either denies it or is very proud

Like yeah she got a little jealous, she has such an amazing partner and anyone in their right mind would see that too.

Or no..she's definitely not jealous. She's just speaking her mind

[yanderenightmare]

TW: nsfw, noncon/dubcon, omegaverse/hybrid au, size difference, pet-play, predator x prey, collaring, drugging

fem reader

Thinking about a human collector who decides he wants a new pet to add to his collection...

The air of the animal shelter is polluted by whimpers, howls, and growling as he parades past all sorts of rareties locked up in their cages – all for him to pick and choose from. 

The warden is telling him about the new swan hybrid they wrangled a week ago, wings like an angel with the grace of royalty, a true prize jewel of any collection. 

He thinks it sounds promising before strolling past you.

Placed in one of the smaller cages on the floor, seemingly tucked away so as not to catch anyone’s attention. 

You’re a sorry sight to behold – all starved and shaking – the collar around your throat too heavy for you to lift your head, having to look up at him through your lashes as he crouches down in front of you.

Your eyes are wide like two moons as he sticks a finger in through the bars.

It’s thick like a carrot, and for a moment, you seem like you’re about to scurry away into the very back of your cage – but instead, you inch closer, sniffing at the digit before suddenly snapping at him.

He backs away with a hiss, drawing the warden's attention – who rushes back and knocks his cain against the cage with a growl in his throat, “Stupid critter.” 

You’ve narrowed your eyes, nose wrinkled in anger – something akin to a snarl forming your lips. It’s a funny expression to see on such a normally docile breed.

“I’m really sorry, sir. Bunnies aren't usually aggressive, but we’ve had issues disciplining this one for weeks.” The warden rushes out the apologetic excuse, expecting to be sued.

But the collector only chuckles – a deep sound that makes your soft fur stiffen. “That’s fine.” 

He pulls a handkerchief from his back pocket, all movements calm and collected as he wipes the spill of blood trickling from the small bite mark you’d left on his finger.

“It’s only a nibble, after all.” 

You spit the bitter taste left in your tongue out on his shoes with another sneer.

If it angers him, it still doesn’t show through the lofty smile he wears. His leer is just as poised and heavy as he looks down at you.

“Does she talk?”

The warden had turned to lead him towards the more desirable and tamed section but halted at the question.

He had a puzzled look on his face before he answered, almost in a question himself, “We don’t know.”

The collector scoffed out another small laugh, then pulled out his phone. “How much?”

The warden seemed appalled then. “Sir, we have exotic pets more up to your standard in the back. Are you sure-”

“I want this one.”

The warden looked snuffed at his firm tone. But straightened himself out after a moment. All business as usual. “We can’t guarantee she’ll behave. It could be dangerous-”

But he’s cut off yet again, this time with another rumbling chuckle.

“That won’t be an issue.”

And those dark eyes with that deeply dominating look within them were the last thing you remember seeing before becoming a sleepy heap on the floor of your cage – drooling with a blank stare as you’re carried to the trunk and driven off with.

The tranquilizer makes you fall asleep, waking to heat swallowing you as you’re lowered into a bathtub.

“Let’s get you groomed first.” The same man murmurs in a coo. Petting your head with a heavy hand when seeing your weary eyes try blinking off the sleep – but still left too drowsy to thrash.

Instead, you can just moan as he washes you with a tender smile on his face – his big hands coarse against your creamy skin, rubbing your plush limbs with soap and oil.

“My pets have been an awful handful lately…”

He’s talking about something, but you only catch bits and pieces of the words being said. Something about ruts and scratched furniture – someone’s been pissing in the sofa, and all the pillows are ruined.

He messages the lops of your ears, then rinses them gently.

“But it’s my fault. I’ve been neglectful.”

He cups your tits next, lathering them with the warm milky water, circling your nipples with the gritty pads of his thumbs until they perk.  

Then he delves under the water to find your puffy cunt, letting the hot water rush the sensitivity, making it swell with heat as he splits the lips and pets your clit. 

You buck your hips, and he awes with a light chuckle, crooning down at you. “It's okay, little bunny.”

His carrot-sized finger teases your hole before sinking inside you, filling you in slow and tentative pumps. Sitting next to the tub, just as composed as before, while your cunt squeezes his knuckles.

He hums, watching your body fight the tranquilizer as you seize up and ripple with release.

He retracts his hand, patting them both on the fluffy towel placed next to him. A content smile on his face. “You’re gonna do perfect.”

After he’s finished drying you, he fixes a collar around your throat and carries you out to the others.

“Gather ‘round, pets.” He announces, placing you down on the soft carpeted floors beneath.

Your limbs are still heavy, too weak to stand just yet. But that all changes with the adrenaline kick.

“Come say hi to your new rut-puppet.”

The stench in the air coats your skin with sweat.

“She’s a fragile thing, though, so make sure to play nice.”

Your big eyes skitter around. 

On your left, there’s a wolf, fox, and hyena who all lick their teeth at the sight of you.

Next to them lies a bear that wakens from his slumber. He licks his snout with a huff.

Drool drips from the hang in their lips as they start panting. 

And they aren't the only ones.

On your right, there’s a panther and leopard whose eyes all blackout into nothing but a deep pool of darkness.

Their tails slowly meander behind them as they arise from their beds to stalk you.

You whimper, backing up until your back hits the legs of your new owner.

You lift your head to look up at him, only to see him smiling down at you.

“Don’t be shy now. The smell of fear only makes them wilder.”

part 2