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whtybsshe · 2 days ago

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I can tell their whole rant is not worth reading by the fact that

:they can’t properly see that Hinata was NOT the one said “Be at peace!” It was Neji.

If you can’t read the notes I made, everytime when Neji or Hinata speaks, the speech bubble either has a little pointer at him or her. Even if the panel shows Hinata, it doesn’t mean she’s the one saying it. Two, even if it’s a translation, it does not make sense for Hinata to say“But you need not suffer any more. Be at peace! But you’re wrong cousin Neji…I can see it now even more than me…” does it now?? Like can’t you figure out that contextually it sounds weird!

The other points that they make sound like “Guys, well yes she did experience abuse but IT WASNT THAT BAD😅😅GUYS she smiled like two times so IT WASNT BAD AT ALL GUYS😅😅😅 trauma is bad 😅😅but well assume she doesn’t have it😊😊😊because it serves my personal narrative☺️☺️☺️☺️”

But I as a Neji Stan, should be the bigger person here and actually logically explain to the ENTIRE SEVEN HUNDRED NOTES that Hinata neither conformed to system, or fought the system.

The hate Neji fans have towards Hinata (idk if OP is a Neji fan so scratch that, any fan in particular) comes mainly from his death as a side branch and we all hate that, im gonna agree with you there. But I think the entire thing got twisted to the point where everyone has this misguided narrative that “Neji actually tried to fight the Hyuuga system whereas Hinata didn’t, she’s a privileged princess that took advantage of Neji.” Which, it’s totally wrong because truthfully? Neither of them did. Well yes Neji might’ve made Hiashi acknowledge him but that was ALSO because 1) Hiashi felt a responsibility to his late twin brother. 2)It is constantly repeated that Naruto had a huge impact as well. So it wasn’t just the effort of a young fourteen year old no matter how much of a genius he might’ve been. Later in Shippuden we never see Neji against the clan, in fact, in SD, in Ninja Storm (I think) Neji is always portrayed to be prideful of his herritage no matter the shitfuckery that goes on and even if he’s a side branch in the eyes of the clan, he keeps it as a badge of honour and status to anyone else. And one can argue that him being against the clan but also prideful of it can exist as two mutually exclusive truths , yes. But they also can’t. We don’t see Neji actually challenge the system again, because the writing doesn’t allow for the Hyuuga subplot to develop, plain and simple.

Now everyone will agree with me on this paragraph, why can’t anyone agree that the same exact case IS for Hinata and pull out the dumbest shit from the asses to justify this twisted vision that they have of Neji and Hinata.

Now I got sidetracked a bit so im coming back to OP post and some interesting points that they made.

-She did have a carefree childhood thanks to her friends and teachers. The last words are what people should focus on. The happiness she might’ve felt during her childhood does not clash with the battered relationship she had with her father. Now according to Naruto Shinden: Parent and child day, Hinata could only remember the smell of blood and kunai. She as trained from day 1 to be a clan head. Thats exploitation, abuse, both physical and mental . Even if she doesn’t piss herself from fear seeing him, it’s sure as hell mentioned that Hinata still dreads him from underneath. All the good things happened outside of her home. She did experience trauma. Her behaviour as a “weirdo” at first, and everything I said in the above paragraph is TRAUMA. You can’t zig zag your reasoning trying to question her every step. That is TRAUMA, point blank period.

And then the all famous as the OP quoted: “It's correct to point out what she had to go through, surely having such enormous pressure on her shoulders at such young age and not being able to deliver is harsh on everyone, but pointing out her position as a victim is often done either to dismiss her implication and endorsement on her clan's slavery system and/or to downplay Neji's own experiences with the abuse of the Main Family. Not only did he have to endure a similar type (meaning: worse) of degradation from Hiashi, but also had to experience the threat of physical torture and/or murder shall he disobey, something that Hinata canonically never was hinted to suffer from.” End quote.

It’s the all famous Struggle Olympic no jutsu!!!!!😍😍😍😍😍🥰🥰🥰🥰😘😘😘

As I mentioned above, Hinata did suffer from physical abuse. Even if it’s in the guise of training, that’s things she did not have a good experience to say the very least.

I think we keep downplaying the fact that Hinata got kidnapped by foreign ninjas way too fucking much. They would a) murder her b) train her to be a weapon and pair of binoculars c) rape her (shes young then, but what if they kept her for more years?) to get Byakugan individuals afterwards

By using the Hyuuga affair example:

You don’t endorse the Hyuuga system by defending Hinata, along with Hizashi and Neji that have been quite literally the actual victims from start to finish of the entire Hyuuga affair.

Most important point: Don’t compare the suffering of two charachters!!! “Oh Neji has had it more difficult than Hinat therefore I reject the validity of all her struggles!!!”

Neji ACTUALLY recognising her pain (I want to discuss about this in a separate post but just keeping this here for now), he actually says he” to be at peace “, he does say that as well in the anime (although worded differently cause interpretation and translation and all of that)

It’s true that Hinata has not experienced what Neji has, but that doesn’t mean she hasn’t been abused by a clan that glamourises power and birthright status over anything else. Why is it so necessary to compare them in this way, rather than capture their differences and nuances in actual meaningful way.

First point of the last point: The Hyuugas system was never mentioned or properly addressed in shippuden (not filler episodes) LET ALONE BORUTO. We can’t conclude whether they actually abolished the system, but neither can we claim that they didn’t. The Hyuugas are only mentioned as a “changed clan” and Hiashi “a changed man” so the abolishment does happen in some way.

Second point of the last point: We have absolutely no clue of how the seal is practiced or applied. The only thing we know is that Hizashi got it as the younger twin. That doesn’t mean that it’s the standard practice used to decide who gets the seal and who doesn’t. The reason is that it is never even mentioned, the seal itself is barely brought up after the chuunin exam.

Also on an interesting note: somebody pointed out that since Hiashi and Hizashi were twins, both had the automatic right to be clan head no matter who was born earlier (this according to inheritance law I don’t have enlightenment of) hence the seal was used to settle the place of the clan head beforehand. I think it’s a pretty solid and logical reasoning which also proves the point of what I said above.

I know it sucks for Kishimoto to end it this way without putting an end, but that’s basically what happens.

Idk if I’ve put my thoughts well into this, but to conclude this entire post: it’s the writing, not the charachter. That goes for both Neji and Hinata.

Shyness, a scapegoat.

Or, Hinata endorses slavery -but she's cute so who cares?

There’s something quite incredible that happens with Hinata as a character and her loyal stans who fiercely defend her actions. There're a few things to point out about this particular topic and I can't start anywhere but on the main reason as to why she's left off the hook.

Let's establish this: Personality traits aren't synonyms for someone's ideology.

Let me expand on this: Hinata is shy, mostly quiet, and superficially "nice" to the people around her -therefore, her mannerisms clash with (or rather, disguises/downplays) her actions and/or what she supports. No one denies Hinata is soft-spoken, yet she downplayed the psychological and emotional trauma that Hizashi's torture at the hands of her father brought on Neji, putting herself as a victim of the same level as her cousin (the "be at peace" line she says during the preliminary rounds become particularly malicious when you have this specific context, because how could Neji be at peace with his role after such cruelty?)

Over and over, her stans use two specific arguments to defend her behavior, so I shall try to break them down:

1- “She was disowned and/or was too young to do anything”: While both of these statements are true, particularly in the first part when this issue is introduced, and I’m sure many anti-fans complain about her inaction, the fact that the only thing pro-fans take for “action” is to specifically stand (meaning, rebel) against Hiashi is very telling of their bias.

Hinata taking a stand against the slavery of her clan is just as easy as showing uneasiness with the situation (something she did not, never, at any point), or understanding Neji’s resentment. Instead, she acknowledges Neji’s anger only to quickly brush it off: paraphrasing, it will be something along the lines, “Oh, you’re annoyed because you’re a slave, you should get over it because I had it rough too” -the fact that she canonically knows the problem it presents to enslave people (let's remember: she witnessed her father torturing Hizashi as to "remind him" of his place), yet believes it to be something to “be at peace with”, it’s the thing we’re pointing out when saying she endorses her family's, let's call it, tradition.

However, It’s not only with Neji Hyüga with whom she displays no discomfort about their situation, the same happens with her interaction with Ko Hyüga during Pain’s arc; he expressively tells her he will be "never forgiven" (implying that he will be punished) should she get injured; yet, despite knowing this, she jumps in to “save” Naruto, fully aware of her incapacity to fight someone who literally destroyed Konoha by himself and not caring about Ko’s destiny at the hands of the Main Branch. [If this doesn't show how Hinata is, quite literally, not even minimally capable to be a commander in any single spectrum of the title, then I don't know what will. She's literally prioritizing her own feelings and/or desires over the lives of those under her command. It's true that she's not the heir of the Hyüga clan during this time, yet she's still in a superior position.}

In regard to this specific argument her stans use in her favor, let’s add something else to question it: Ko would have been punished non-other than Hiashi and Hanabi Hyuga, he specifically mentions both of them; which means that her sister, who is five years younger -eleven/twelve years old at this Arc’s time- acknowledges her position and the branch family members' (lower) place and takes immediate action over that difference. So either Hinata's [young] age has nothing to do with her (in)action on the matter of her family's enslavement practices, or Hinata isn't even as smart as Hanabi to understand how her clan works. So under this premise, she's either endorsing slavery or incredibly moronic, your choice.

[And to those who might want to use the "she knows how her clan works, she just never wanted to use her privilege to hurt lower members": There's not a single panel to support this. Not a single one. Furthermore, Ko's situation and her speech to Neji during the Chünin Exams point out she did nothing on the matter because she simply didn't care about them, too preoccupied with Naruto and feeling sorry for herself for not being acknowledged the way Hanabi was. Hinata is, simply, bad at fighting. She isn't squandering her potential for her sister's benefit, she is, simply put, bad.]

The argument “Hanabi and Hinata were raised differently” has no hold other than in fandom mentality, for they differed at the beginning simply on their training:

Source

Hiashi trained Hanabi whilst Hinata trained with Kurenai, but that only seemed to happen after her graduation as gënin, for all we know, and for what is pointed out in Hanabi's entrance in the First Databook, Hinata was raised as the Hyuga heir until her first graduation when she proved to be not in the standards expected for an heir her age. Even back then, Hanabi wasn't "officially" Hiashi's successor.

2- “She was afraid of Hiashi since he was/is her abuser”. While it’s true that Hiashi downgraded her and psychologically mistreated her when constantly demoting her value and, in exchange, raising Hanabi’s, there are few things to say about this:

a- It’s established in the Databook that she had a pleasant childhood, and while having carefree infancy doesn't exactly contradicts the idea of Hiashi being verbally abusive to her, it does clash with the idea of her being absolutely (that is, completely) scared of him rather than sad for the degradation.

Source

b- The relationship between Hinata and Hiashi dramatically changed during the second part of the manga (after the Chünin Exams, she’s seen smiling and bringing tea to both Hiashi and Neji), to the point where even when “disowned” she got no Cage Bird Seal (meaning, she still was part of the main family and therefore still possessed the privileges that came with it) and how Hiashi, even when away, went out of his way to ensure her safety (such as forcing Ko to protect her). To claim that she was “still afraid” of her father when there’s not only a single indication of her uneasiness but there’re quite obvious displays of their good-terms relationship it’s grasping at straws to defend something that doesn't exist. And while it's true that trauma can't be easily overcome, there's no indication of Hinata experiencing such a thing (claiming "internal struggle" is not a valid counterargument because, while plausible, is not canonically established during the second part of the manga).

c- It’s correct to point out what she had to go through, surely having such enormous pressure on her shoulders at such young age and not being able to deliver is harsh on everyone, but pointing out her position as a victim is often done either to dismiss her implication and endorsement on her clan’s slavery system and/or to downplay Neji’s own experiences with the abuse of the Main Family. Not only did he have to endure a similar type (meaning: worse) of degradation from Hiashi, but also had to experience the threat of physical torture and/or murder shall he disobey, something that Hinata canonically never was hinted to suffer from.

It could be reasonable to spare Hinata from any responsibility on the matter during the first part (I, personally, since she displayed enough knowledge about the matter and what it entailed, don’t think so), but during Shippuden -when she’s not young anymore by shinobi standards and her relationship with Hiashi is shown to be better, the arguments in her favor collapse completely.

Are we forgetting that those who see abuse/harassment and do nothing about it might as well be endorsing it?

To simply claim “oh, well, the real villain is Hiashi because he’s the one actually enslaving people” without taking into account those who are in power and decide not to intervene (every single Hokage, including now Kakashi and Naruto, who changed nothing), and those who know what the system entails yet also display no discomfort/do nothing (Hinata might not have “real power” but she still is part of the Main Family and keeps quiet when she could easily reach to her sister and speak about her discomfort with the matter), it’s simply looking at the superficial reflections of the issue -instead of taking care of the roots.

And truthfully, the fact that somehow Hiashi is the villain for enslaving his people (as I’ve said, they put the entire weight of the Hyuga clan’s problems solely over his shoulders despite the existence of a political system that supports him), yet his words during the war are taken by Hinata's stans as inexorably proof of the change that apparently her (alongside Neji) brought it’s quite… striking, to say the least. More considering that he was a character already proven to lie/hide important truths from (cadet) clan members before.

In addition, the Branch Family still possesses the Cage Bird Seal, while the main branch doesn’t: which means that, first, there’s still a distinction between both families that goes beyond political positions inside Konoha and goes into a physical difference: ones are marked while others aren’t -and second, whether Hiashi still performs torture or not doesn’t deny the quite real possibility of him re-incurring in such behavior, the threat of physical violence still stands for the branch family.

Taking care of the seal is also a task quite easy to do, should they truly want to take care of it, I’ll put here some ways to resolve it at the top of my mind:

1. There’s no canon proof nor mention that the Cage Bird Seal can’t be removed. Neji states that the seal disappears when those with the mark die, yet, he might not know if it can truly be erased or not, since with that knowledge many branch members might seek freedom.

2. Even if we take Neji’s words as truthful, and we believe the Seal can’t be removed, there’s absolutely no evidence to state that the seal can’t be counteracted by another seal (a technique similar to the one Orochimaru used against Minato’s seal).

3. The main family could easily get the seal so the Byakugan gets sealed when any member dies and the threat of someone torturing another member through it gets “nullified”.

Nothing of this is shown in the manga nor brought up by these individuals.

Source

Why is Naruto claiming this, if the Hyuga changed already? It's true that he was away for a long time, but are the changes Hiashi spoke about so little or subtle that Naruto wasn't able to see them during the duration of Shippuden? Which character are we calling a liar then, Hiashi, or Naruto?

And I’ll add this here, for good measure: Hinata might as well be endorsing slavery (she is, in fact, canonically endorsing it), and it will be fine from the narrative’s point of view because the manga ended with these issues not only not resolved, but accepted as the “lesser of all evils”; the problem here are her stans trying to save her from the implications of condoning such actions -when there’s no substance for their claims.

She either agrees with the Hyuga practices or she doesn’t, in this specific case, there’s no middle, no gray areas, because even ignoring the matter (despite knowing its existence), makes her an accomplice. You can still like her and very much enjoy her, but that doesn’t mean she’s free from problematic characterizations, as every single character introduced by Kishimoto. Edit to add: I received long ago an interesting ask that said: "You want Hinata, after everything she got through, to get the Seal?" and while that wasn't my point it further proves my point of view: if her stans are aware of what being marked implicates why are they looking the other way when it comes to the branch family situation? Why are they specifically ignoring Hinata's very purposefully dismissal of the matter? Why is Hinata the only character who needs to be spared? Her stans excuse Hinata's inaction because she was "too young", but condemn Neji, who's just a year older, for lashing out at her because "she's shy and nice" without minding his background and how Hinata is the embodiment of the Main Family that tortures him and he loathes.

Hinata's background allows us to understand where she comes from and why she's the way she is, yet it does not justify her behavior.

Context is for understanding, not condoning.

#naruto #neji hyuga #hinata hyuga #anime #neji hinata #pro Hinata #pro Neji

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sunny-knight · 2 days ago

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What Kind Of Monster Was He?

A @forgettable-au fan (colored) animatic

MINOR BLOOD WARNING!

*Was he the kind to do too much, or not enough?

…OK, SO WHAT HAD HAPPENED WAS-

I had planned to finish this into a full fledged animation, but a lot of the parts I did end up finishing just didnt live up to what I imagined…I waited for more motivation to happen, but it just didnt so HERES THE COLORED ANIMATIC CAUSE IM REALLLY HAPPY WITH WHAT I HAVE and ive sat on posting this for like a 2 weeks 😭 which is an eternity in my time

Im gonna post the unfinished “finished” part on my side account @o-sunny-day though! and probably have people yell at me cause it actually isnt that bad AND IT TOTALLY ISNT I just… art. You get it. ENOUGH YAPPING! ITS TIME TO YAP!

except not yet, MORE BACKGROUND INFO HUCDHUC- but its background info on explaining the lore…

The explaining is much less expansive than in Dear My Dear just because I didnt work on it long enough to think every bit of it through. This is just a clean, nicer looking, and colored version of the very first storyboard.

I usually think about and put more effort into the little stuff while making the FINISHED bits since ive had so much more time to think about that in all the preppin n sketching.

BUT I liked the explaining format I did for Dear My Dear so im sticking with it!

The main idea for this was to do a study of Wingdings’ character from what we’ve been given, mainly focusing in on the expectations he puts on himself because holy shit the lyrics for this works so stupidly well it makes me mad LOOK AT THIS???

its ridiculous. i love it. I didnt know Jack Stauber helped write Forgettable AU???? woww!!! ANYWHO thats the gist of it, not much context is needed past that. Onto the sillies!!!! (per usual excuse the shitty quality of the pngs idk why Tumblr does that-)

Did you know love? Will you rest in peace?

Wingdings and Sans holding hands as kids, before turning to a casket like appearance for adult WD. The flowers hes holding are pretty important too, Marigolds to represent grief, Lilys, new life, and Forget Me Nots for this lovely little line I found when looking up good flowers to use-

“a promise to always remember” ….stop that.

That actually also has a double meaning in this case too. 1, ofc the forgetting of Wingdings. But ALSO Wingdings forgetting something himself. Forgetting who he is. Almost like a Zuko ATLA situation.

Did you have a family?

Who knows where theyre parents are, but this is HAPPY TIME and we’re gonna assume they were so awesome and very kind but had to leave or went to a farm in the sky for whatever reason.

The colors here I had a lot of fun with. Their parents had warm colors but the boys have cold, still with warm accents. Its said they more or less raised each other being very independent as shown in the second part with them running out the door by themselves.

How was the view from the shelf? Did you ever believe in yourself?

Before, we started with the beginnings. The good things, the only thing Wingdings cares to even recall. Now we’re seeing his life really start to turn upside down- making first contact with The Player :D

He’s hesitant to reach out, but is intrigued, before getting a rushing revelation of his reality and how it isnt “real”

Rather than feeling crushing existential dread, he more feels pressured to be BETTER, to figure a solution, to do something. Thats what white represents here

WHAT KIND OF MILK WERE YOU?

We then switch to more examples of how Wingdings is taking this pressure (not well) The soft tones of yellow that were shown before, turn to way brighter, intensifying that feeling that he should be fine, he should be happy, drowning in success of being the Royal Scientist.

But he just desperately wants to just go back to a time of nice coldness.

The warm vs cold tones in this I had so much fun with, coldness is supposed to represent hostility usually, while warm is nice and happy. (same with Black and white. Scary, relieving,) But these points often contradict each other, its hard to tell what you’re feeling vs what you’re supposed to be feeling. Just like Wingdings!

WHAT KIND OF LIFE DID YOU LIVE THROUGH?

The white lab coats, the expectations, theyre on all of them. But Wingdings has essentially become his expectations.

He questions what life he wants to live, one being himself and alone (speaking in wingdings) or not himself and with company (speaking in a “normal” font) Still, he frames it in past tense as he believes theres no going back now, based on what he knows.

“One of the last happy moments they had together” stop that. (i cant find a link to when that was said but I know it was once, about them taking a photo together….)

DID YOUR LIFE RUN RICH WITH CALCIUM?

Calcium….bonesss :3 Hehehehdhehfhehehheheheh still dont know why he has holes in his hands so we’re movin on

DID THEY LAUGH AT YOU OR DID YOU LAUGH AT THEM?

Compared to the childhood Wingdings remembered, heres the sadder, bleaker, more realistic version. He always thought they were laughing at him but… maybe they werent.

DAIRY BELOVED. YOUR DAYS ARE GONE,

It doesnt matter now though. Because in the NOW, Wingdings has become consumed by his expectations of himself, seeing this has the “only option” to do the only thing that he feels will give his life meaning and purpose, establishing connection with THE PLAYER

But the grocery list goes on…

And yet life continues on without him, and his room is transformed into a more livable space now that someone is…living in it. Always hurts so much making the differences between Wingdings and Papyrus’ room. It feels like making something out of the man Wingdings COULD HAVE been. Because honestly thats just what Papyrus is,

Thank you to my bestie @fruitytrip for helping me with all of my art in general but especially the storyboarding on this :3 <3

#Milk by Jack Stauber #undertale animatic #Wingdings why #Hes a sad sad little man #ohhh who you could have been #if you didnt have a self destructive arc #sometimes i think about him being religiously obsessed with The Player #and then he comes to find out the player (me in this case) is religiously obsessed with him #like oh damn this is awkward #uhhh #wanna get coffee?#I love using cold colors for comfort and warm for terror #I was very spesifically proud of the shot with the white turning into a spotlight #then him turning into just a silly kid looking at a softer glow #o and happy new year gang :D #late #but #happy new year gang :D

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red-doll-face · 2 days ago

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Imagine reader playing with Arthur's hair while he grumbles and pretends he's not totally into it >>>>>>>>😭🙏 But when you actually stop he's like 😳😞

that sounds so cute, i would love to run my fingers through his hair!!! 💖💖💖🥹🥹🥹 i wanted to do something short but writing for arthur always seems to run away from me, idkkk whyyyy i can never do anything bite sized with this man i stg. 😔😳😭😭😭 idk i guess small just doesnt cut it when it comes to this man 😏 i sort of took this as a request so i hope im not doing too much LMAO beware: sweetie weenie boy arthur...veryyyy fluffffy

Arthur doesn't like his hair as long as you like it but he can put it aside for you.

(high honor) Arthur Morgan x fem. reader

You had always thought Arthur’s hair looked nice, just a little bit longer than he preferred. Ok, maybe a lot longer than he preferred it but you couldn't help but like the way the strands fell in his pretty blue eyes, watching his big hands and fingers push it back over his head. His little frustrated huff when it inevitably slips back to feathering over the sides of his face was all too cute. You liked the way the sun caught the more blond strands; turned them a bright gold. You know the big scary outlaw, Arthur Morgan would never use the word beautiful to describe himself but you could use that word for him every day of every week.

And he doesn't always intend to grow it as long as he does, he runs out of time to get anything done about it, much preferring to return to your little corner of camp to rest with you sooner than stop in town. He’d rather come back to you, to get to lay his eyes on you than to spend another moment away from the sweet kiss you give him when he rejoins you.

Of course, he was as strong as a draft horse. Arthur could handle just about anything thrown at him. But Dutch had a way of running him ragged. When it wasn’t Dutch, it was the other camp members and when it wasn’t them, it was himself. The pressure to be everywhere, to do everything; it crushed his shoulders down. You did what you could to help. It's why you so thoroughly enjoyed these quiet moments, just you and him in the cool evenings.

“...Look at all this. Honey, I need a goddamned haircut,” he’d say, standing in front of the little mirror where he shaved his scruff after it grew too bushy. You sit on his bed, pouting at him. He stands with his hands gripping the edge of the barrel, turning to the left and the right. The way his hair bounced around made you giggle.

“But-”

“Yeah, you like it, I remember,” He sighs.

“I do, Arthur. I just think you look very handsome with your hair like that,” You look at his hair and then your eyes wander to his strong forearms gripping the lip of the barrel. You had found Arthur to be eye-catching the day that you met him. And his personality only bolstered how much you liked him. He could play at gruff simpleton brute but he had more sense and wit than most of the other men combined. He was more soft than he wanted to admit too, but he showed those pieces of himself to you. His vulnerabilities he liked to keep to himself; now he shares with you.

“Right. You keep on tellin’ your beautiful lies; I might just start believin’ you,” He chuckles at the word ‘handsome’. You make a face at his self deprecating attitude. How he makes jokes of himself to keep his insecurities from seeming like they're bigger than they are. But the corners of his mouth always tug downwards when he’s looking in the mirror, even when he only intended to look at his hair or at his beard.

“Arthur, I’m not lying. Come here?” You’re more siren-like than you realize; your beckon makes him turn, huffing a little. As if he knows he’s in some degree of trouble. The little disappointed frown you have is something he can’t help but look away from. Arthur leans away from the barrel and steps closer to you. He reaches for his hat that sits on the table at his bedside but you stop him, a gentle hand over the top of his.

Your hand tugs him closer and he allows you to guide him. You squeeze his palm, those hard working hands, rough from all that he does with them.

He lets himself relax, which he rarely does, he’s always doing something or on his way there. But you love to hold him in your arms. To make him stay still with you for awhile.

He sits and the sweet kiss he gives you makes you light up. But you motion to have him lay over you while you play with his hair, even if you can tell he wants to keep giving you kisses. His head is in your lap while he uses your plush thighs as pillows. He’s a bit stiff, as if unwillingly and begrudgingly doing as you say. His brow still crinkles a bit, some of the lines on his face from pulling grimaces are creased. You lift the strands upwards to marvel at how long they are.

“Too damn long,”

“No, never,” you coo at him through his faux displeasure.

“Never? You’re kiddin’ me, sweetheart. Only you could want a man with hair down to his ass,” you laugh, rolling your eyes. You miss how he softens even more at your laugh, he liked that you found his jokes funny or at the very least, silly enough to warrant such a reaction.

“Ok, ok, you can get it cut, but maybe not so short on the sides? I like when it’s long here,” You look down at his eyes, petting the loose locks he usually wants to cut a bit shorter to keep hair off of his neck.

“I’ll think on it; it’s still on my head, ain’t it?”

You giggle humming contentedly as you continue rubbing his hair in your fingers. He relaxes more even as he continues to murmur about how much he can’t wait to watch it all get chopped off at the barber in town. You shake your head, feeling him go soft from his usual intensity.

Your nails lightly scratch against his scalp, your fingers pet his hair this way and that. Then you transition to what you know he likes, a repetitive soothing motion through the locks of his hair. The way the small furrow just over his nose bridge flattens out makes you smile. You can see his hands stop fussing, his lungs fill with a deep breath and puff it out slowly. He props one leg over his bed and the other hangs down to the floor. And he might grumble but those turn into simple rumbles of soft pleasure. You watch the tension leak from him, his usual stiffness weakening.

You’re pretty sure you can lull him to sleep like this, the rhythmic stroking over his hair and scalp like a lullaby. You comb his hair backwards, his thick hair is tangled in some places and you help work through it gently. When you feel you’ve perhaps messed with his hair enough, you remove your hands. One of his eyes slips open from where he had both closed in a sleepy gesture; revealing that gem toned hue. He looks grumpier than when you started, perhaps a little disgruntled.

“What?” you ask, knowing he misses the sensation of your fingers fiddling around in his hair. “Thought you didn’t like me ruffling your feathers,” you tousle it a little. The teasing in your voice is prominent when you smile down at his small scowl, no real bite behind his bark.

He seems to flush a little bit, you can appreciate the way his blushes crawl up his face, he can never hide how you make him feel. His artificial glare melts away.

“It should be you, I guess- ya know, rufflin’ my feathers,” his sentimental tone brings him out of his element, showing his nerves around you. Not so steadfast now. You smile warmly and shyly as well, touched by his genuine feelings, the ones he told you just as bashfully that he harbored for you.

I LOVE HIM SO MUCH HE CAN DO NO WRONG 😍💓🫂😭😳🥰 thank you for reading !!

#red writes #arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 x reader #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption 2 x reader #high honor arthur morgan #arthur morgan x fem reader #arthur morgan x female reader #fluff #high honor arthur morgan x reader

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tayraedoll · 1 day ago

Text

Relax Dear

Had the urge to write how a bath with the Hazbin men would go. Enjoy these little blurbs for Alastor, Lucifer, and Vox!

PS- First ever attempt to write Vox!

MDNI 18+

TW- Suggestive themes, P in V intercourse, swearing, degradation kink, fluff.

Alastor-

You scowled, eyes squinting at the page in front of you as you attempted to read the same paragraph for the third time. A hefty sigh escapes your lips as you place your book on the side table, your hands coming up to rub your temples as you clench your eyes shut. It had been a rough day, you had gotten in between Vaggie and Angel during an argument and your head was pounding from enduring all the yelling that went back and forth. You were hoping that a good book would help you relax but reading only served to make your headache worse.

You feel a hand gently grasp your shoulder, "Are you alright Sha?"

A small smile graces your lips as you turn to your partner, Alastor. He was tucked into his own chair beside you, reading together was a nightly ritual you both enjoyed; you learned to make the most of these peaceful moments together and bask in each other's presence. A contented, close-lipped grin adorned his face, but you could see the concern in his eyes as he looked you over.

"Yea, I'm fine; just have a headache and- unfortunately- trying to read did not help relieve it at all. I actually think I will go take a bath for a bit", you squeeze his hand before getting up to make your way to your shared en suite.

Alastor places his own book down, "Excellent idea My Dear!", before following you into the bathroom. You raise an eyebrow at him; Alastor was not one for baths, he preferred showers claiming that a bath forced you to sit in your own filth.

"Do you plan to join me in the tub?", you ask incredulously, although you would not mind at all if he did.

"Ha! No Dear, absolutely not. But I'd rather not starve myself of your company, so I feel inclined to sit with you outside the tub if you'll allow me to."

You beam at him, delighted that he was willing to sit with you no matter what you did just so he could be near you. You go about gathering everything you need for your bath- lighting the candles, grabbing a towel, and pinning up your hair. You are finally able to add the finishing touch by adding your favorite bath bomb called Feeling Jazzy; you inhale a deep breath as the notes of spice and citrus envelope the water, the stress of the day already slipping away.

As you disrobe and climb into the tub, Alastor's cane begins playing soft jazz music. You close your eyes and lean your head back against the wall while you concentrate on relaxing every taut muscle in your body.

Your eyes fly open again when you feel warm hands gently grasp your shoulders and begin rubbing. You crane your neck around and peer up at Alastor as he smiles down at you, claws gently raking across your skin and sending shivers down your spine.

"Just relax Dear", his hand moves up to the nape of your neck and you let out a groan as his claws gently dig into your pressure points like makeshift acupuncture needles. Every limb turns to jelly as you relax in Alastor's hold, headache completely forgotten.

Lucifer-

You tilt your head at the sound of the bathroom door opening; even with the cool washcloth obstructing your view you knew exactly who had entered, his Angelic aura would give him away every time. Your skin prickled in goosebumps, your mind subconsciously reacting to the cosmically powerful being closing in on you.

Soft lips gently press to your forehead, "How's the bath Love?"

You remove the cloth from your eyes to find The King of Hell sweetly smiling down at you. Your eyes rake over his appearance, his blonde hair sticking out at odd angles like he kept running his hands through it, his eyes-though shining brightly- bore deep purple bags underneath, and his clothing was full of wrinkles. He looked absolutely exhausted, his duties keeping him holed up in his office all day.

You smile back at him before sighing, looking up at him from beneath your lashes, "It would be better if you joined me." Lucifer was not good at self-care, but you were hoping you could entice him into relaxing in the bath with you for just a little while.

A low chuckle echoes through the room; Lucifer knows exactly what you are doing, finding it endearing that you worry about his well-being. Though it was ridiculous for you to fret over a being as powerful as he, it was nice to know you cared so much about him. Why not indulge you every now and then?

You watched as the king stripped, eyes greedily roaming over every contour and dip of lean muscle exposed. When he got into the tub, he moved to the side opposite you so you were facing each other, legs tangled together.

A low groan of relief escaped his lips as the hot water enveloped his frame causing you to bite your lip as your thighs clenched at the sound. Perhaps there were other ways you could get your king to relax. You pointed your toes on one foot and began to slowly push them up the inside of one of his legs, watching with glee as the action caused him to shiver.

Just before your toes could reach their goal he swiftly grabbed your wandering limb. "Was there something else you wanted to do Love?", Lucifer smiled at you devilishly as he pressed his thumbs into the ball of your foot, one claw raking down into the arch. A strangled noise halfway between a gasp and a moan hissed between your teeth, your thighs clenching together again. Damn this man and his talented hands.

You bat your eyes at him, leaning forward just enough that your breasts break above the water and you do not miss the way his eyes dart down to your chest immediately. "Do you like the smell of the bath bomb Luci?", you ask as your hands grip his legs at the knees, using them to pull yourself closer to him.

Lucifer's face is flushed, he is trying hard and utterly failing at not staring at your bare chest, "Uh-what? Smell? Oh yes! It smells lovely!" his voice is higher than usual and he tries to cough to cover his embarrassment.

You slowly crawl up his body, your hand trailing up his torso and causing his abs and pecs to twitch. Leaning down, you softly whisper in his ear, "The scent is called 'All Hail the Queen'", and nip his earlobe. A whimper escapes the man below you as his hands wrap around your hips, his erection pressing against your core.

You lean back, taking his face in your hands as you smile at his wide eyes and golden cheeks. "Relax Dear", you purr as you sink down on him.

Vox-

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!", you cry out, your thighs burning from impaling yourself on Vox's cock over and over again. The water sloshed around in the tub, some of it escaping onto the bathroom floor. You knew what was in store for you as soon as Vox whispered "Bath time" into your ear; bathes with the TV host often left you dirtier than you were before you got in the bath.

The Overlord's large hands pushed you forward slightly so your hands were braced on the tub floor, the angle letting him hit deeper inside of you as he gripped your hips and took control of the speed.

"Fuck Baby just like that; such a flithy little slut!", Vox growled behind you.

His ruthless pace had you seeing stars, momentarily you mused over how fitting that was. Vox often called you his Star, the one possession he was completely unwilling to share- not even with the other Vees. Even the bath bomb he always used before fucking you in the tub was called Hollywood Star. The man encompassed everything that was Hollywood glamour, and he would always be the star of your own heart.

One hand fisted into your hair as the other slid around the front of you to swirl tight circles around your clit. Your thighs quaked as your body went taut, your orgasm crashing over you with a scream of his name.

"I love it when you scream my name! FUUUUCK!", Vox spilled into you, your releases mixing together in the water. He pulled you back into his chest, a hand combing through the mess your hair turned into. You let his warmth seep into you, your head lolled over to his shoulder.

Before long, you felt his member beginning to harden again within you. Vox was rarely finished after just one round, but it always surprised you how fast he was ready to go again. A small whimper escaped your lips, hips squirming uncomfortably as he filled you again.

"Relax Dear, we are only getting started."

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor the radio demon #fem reader #alastor fluff #lucifer magne #lucifer x reader #lucifer x you #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #vox the tv demon #vox smut #vox x reader #vox x you

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mangotangerine · 16 hours ago

Text

what if ozzie created hell's version of ao3 and then radiostatic became one of the most popular ships but alastor didn't find out because ew, technology, until one day he did, but the top 69 fics are written by the same person & have incredibly realistic aspects that only one other person in hell would know

well, i wrote it. see below the cut for what i have so far

vox writes fanfic (and his username is alastors_babygirl)

Alastor goes nearly a century without acquiring any of those ridiculous, overdesigned electronic devices that the rest of Hell rots their brain with.

Things have been odd as of late. Angel Dust has been giving him strange looks—not the usual objectifying leer meant to evoke discomfort, but something more inquisitive—and Niffty has taken to giggling every time he walks past that tacky television they keep in the lounge. It hadn’t bothered him at first, as Angel Dust has always been a strange fellow, and Niffty is… well, Alastor isn’t sure if even she understands her own whimsy, sometimes.

But now, it’s getting a bit out of hand.

“Niffty, my dear,” Alastor says, “I have a question for you.”

She giggles, likely because he is standing next to the television. She manages to get it under control, though he can still hear the laughter in her voice as she says, “Yes?”

He glances pointedly at the television, then back at Niffty, and her grin widens. She kicks her feet and covers her mouth to hold back the giggles that threaten to erupt, and Alastor sighs. He is not going to get satisfying answers from her. “Never mind,” he says, weary. “Perhaps Charlie knows.”

Charlie blushes a bright red and flips her phone face-down in a panic, when he finally asks her in her office.

“Um—um, well…” she trails off, body language broadcasting her discomfort.

“This is getting tiring,” Alastor says, letting irritation bleed into his voice. “Despite my confidence that it is not the case, because who would be so foolish, I feel as though I’m being mocked. It is quite unpleasant.”

“No! No no no!” she squeaks. “No, it’s not that, it’s just…” she takes a deep breath. “The fan fiction.”

“The what now?” Alastor asks, eyebrows furrowing.

She bites her lip, glancing down at her phone. “Asmodeus um… launched this new website,” she starts, and Alastor wrinkles his nose in disgust. Ugh, not this nonsense again. “And, well… people write stories on it about... about media or things they’re fans of. Like—like use the characters and setting, and… andyou’rethemostpopularship,” she says in a rush.

Alastor looks down at himself, and then back up at Charlie. “I didn’t take you for the type to be critical of somebody’s figure, regardless of the inaccuracy of your statement,” he says, clearly disappointed, and Charlie gasps.

“No! Ship—ship, like relationship! Not—I would never.” She’s offended now, frowning at him. “Why would you think I’d—”

“Please, Charlie,” Alastor says sharply, “Explain to me in plain language.”

She bites her lip, then shrinks a little in her seat. “Sometimes people… um, write stories about people, who they think would be good in a relationship… like romance stories.”

“What does this have to do with anything?” Alastor snaps.

“You’re the top—you’re the um, most popular, uh, ship. Relationship. Well, not just you, it takes two—anyway.” She stops, and smiles at him nervously.

“Who is the second party in this ‘relationship’ involving myself?” he asks, eyes narrowed.

When she tells him, he very politely demands to be shown this website, and she meekly flips her phone over and slides it toward him. He looks through it, smile fading slowly until it’s just a barely-there quirk of the lips. “Who?” he asks, unable to hide the venom in his voice. “Who is writing these?”

“Many—many people, Alastor. It’s—there’s—I, I mean, you see how many stories!” she squeaks.

“Do you read the ones where I’m involved with your father?” he asks, suspicious, as he points at the device. She gasps.

“No!” Charlie practically yells. “No, I do—I do not read sex stories about my—”

“Sex stories?” Alastor asks, voice thick with radio distortion, and she covers her mouth in horror at her own mistake.

“I—I mean, not all of them are—I mean, there are a ton that are just—and not just with my dad, but with—you know, him, and they’re—they’re so sweet, Alastor!”

The exhaustion is settling in his bones now, his ever-present smile twisted into a sardonic grimace. “I fail to understand how there can be any stories involving me and that—that walking billboard that are sweet.”

“Well, um…” she hesitates, nervous. “You could… you could read some?”

“I will most certainly not be doing that,” he says. “I will be going now. I appreciate your transparency, as painful as the information was to extract from you.”

Alastor leaves with his signature flourish, melting into the shadows.

He goes a week before he folds, though he has one of those egg creatures Sir Pentious left behind procure an electronic device for him instead of trying to find one himself. He then commands it to demonstrate how to navigate to that vapid archive of obscenities everyone seems so enraptured by.

Though there are a lot of these creepy little stories, and just as many writers, the most popular of these ‘fan fiction’ novellas are all written under the same pen name and have very specific personal details that only one other person in Hell would know.

Well, he supposes it has been quite a while since he’s gone to terrorize that tower in person. Why, he’s been positively angelic since his return to the public sphere. It’s time to pay his old friend a visit.

He could go in the front door, cause a scene, really ham it up for Vox’s pervasive cameras, but that’s too easy. Too predictable, and what sort of performer would he be if he didn’t improvise and change things up a bit?

Alastor materializes in Vox’s office, behind his chair. He is, unfortunately, not alone, as Alastor had hoped. Startled, Velvette screams, and Alastor turns to blink at her owlishly.

“Was that really necessary?” he asks.

Vox spins around in his chair so fast it keeps spinning, makes 3 revolutions before Vox manages to stop it. Alastor looks Vox up and down, nose wrinkled in distaste.

“I just greased it!” Vox says defensively. “It doesn’t do that all the time, I can—I can control my chair!”

“Why is he here?” Velvette hisses, and Vox points menacingly at Alastor.

“Yeah! Why is he—why are you here?”

Alastor inhales deeply, and lets out a slow, disappointed sigh. “We need to talk.”

“Get out of my fucking tower,” Vox snaps.

“I’d love to,” Alastor says, “as soon as you answer some questions about the creepy little love stories you’ve been writing online.”

Vox blanches, as much as a television screen can blanch—that is, his face turns greyscale, reminding Alastor very distinctly of the picture shows his mother used to take him to as a child. It’s very amusing, on Vox.

“Velvette, get out,” Vox orders, voice sharp. The color slowly bleeds back into his face, one pixel at a time.

Velvette gets up, looking like she’s about to argue, when Alastor turns to face her directly, twirling his microphone in hand as his smile grows.

“Fine, fuck you,” she spits, and makes her way out.

Then it’s just Alastor and Vox. Vox and Alastor. Two old friends. Two old buddies. Pals. Former pals. Ex-partners.

“I can explain,” Vox says, panicked.

“Oh,” Alastor says, sounding delighted. “You’re admitting to it so easily? Usually you’re more difficult than that.”

“Fuck,” Vox groans.

#voxal #radiostatic #staticradio #alastor x vox #vox x alastor #radiostatic fanfic #radiostatic fanfiction #hazbin fanfic #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin vox

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sucodelaranja86 · 13 hours ago

Note

wait lowk i saw a hc that hyun ju would spend time w people who accepts her and it was that they would go ice skating tg

do you think u could write abt thattttt

- ice skating with your girlfriend : ★

featuring: hyun-ju cho x reader

summary: going ice-skating with your lovely girlfriend.

warnings: none.

genre: fluff

A/N: this was so hard to write because i had no idea on how to write it, so it think it's a little boring. But i hope i could fill your expectations! :)

★ . ★ . ★ . ★

➤ Today was the day! You planned every single detail meticulously for a month. Nothing could go wrong!

Your day started nicely. Your girlfriend, even if she was not a sergeant anymore, still naturally followed a very strict routine. Meaning that she willingly woke up every single day at the crack of dawn.

You always complained that you lost her body warmth way too soon in the morning, but you couldn't complain waking up to a delicious breakfast everytime.

"Goodmorning, sweetheart. Did you sleep well?" her sweet voice filled your ears as soon as she saw you sit down groggily on the table.

"Morning... I did." you responded sleeply, not daring to give her a 'goodmorning kiss' until you ate something and brushed your teeth.

"You need to wake up and get ready for our date, my love." She responded while putting a plate of toast and eggs in front of you.

"And do it quickly, you shouldn't leave a lady waiting, you know?" she gave you a playful wink and resumed her work in the kitchen, currently washing the dishes she used to make breakfast.

"i won't, i promise." you say, quickly digging down your breakfast.

"Hyun-ju Cho, if you let go of me, i swear i-" your empty threats were quickly shut down as you stumbled again, holding for dear life on your girlfriend.

You could say ice skating was not one of your natural talents, but it seemed that wasn't the case for your partner, who managed to get it right on the first few tries.

"Don't worry, my love. I am not going anywhere." she held on to your waist gently as you hugged her entire body while moving slowly.

"You better, cause i-" Again, your silly declarations were interrupted. But this time, it was by you faceplanting onto the hard, cold floor. It seemed that holding her in a bear-like grip didn't really work.

"Love! are you- are you alright?" she said a bit worriedly, but you could still notice a faint smile threatening to appear while she clearly held her laughter. She could tell you didn't hurt yourself too hard, so she didn't bother to try and pretend to be an 'over-the-top' type of worried.

"You're laughing!"

"Sorry, my darling." although her words were sincere, the ear-to-ear smile she wore on her face spoke more than a few words.

Noticing your visible pout, she helped you get up, snuggling you close to her covered chest as a way for you to balance yourself. "Here. How about we give it a break and have something to eat? How does that sound, hm?"

She spoke as if comforting a small child who just threw a temper tantrum, but you couldn't bring yourself to deny her words.

With a sigh, you responded. "Alright... Let's go."

★ . ★ . ★ . ★

#hyun ju x reader #cho hyun-ju x reader #cho hyunju #player 120 #cho hyun ju x reader #squid game headcanons #squid game x y/n #squid game

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paperclip-skz · 2 days ago

Text

Love 2 Walk

Chan x reader

Warning: fingering, kissing, the mention of nicknames (babygirl), praising, teasing, squirting, fingering, overstimulation,cream pie (wrap it up), rough sex, over clothes stimulation, I’m sure I missed smt let me know in the comments!

WC: 6.5k.... I know..

Also note: This story is HEAVLY influenced by the Webtoon series Love 4 Walk. This is just "my" version of it, you could say. I am writing to write and I recommend you read the series. *** This is not an original idea, this IS INSPIRED BY AN ANIME**

Credits to: Nuria Sanguino for the ORIGINAL webtoon story!!

Synopsis: how does one fall hopelessly in love with their neighbor? Oh, no biggy, just by walking their dog 😉.

******

Beep beep beep.

The sun streams through the cracks in my bedroom curtains, casting warm beams of light that punctuate the shadows of the room. I squint against the brightness, feeling the dull thrum of morning settling around me. “Ugh,” I groan, reluctantly peeling my eyelids apart to greet the day. But just as I begin to indulge in a few more moments of drowsy tranquility, a sudden, playful jab from a hard little foot strikes me squarely in the side. “Ow, Bruno! Just five more minutes,” I croak out, my voice thick with sleep.

Yet, my protest is short-lived. In mere moments, Bruno, my exuberant Doberman, has taken matters into his own paws. He’s showering my face with enthusiastic kisses, the warm, wet sensations breaking through my lingering sleepiness. “Ew,” I manage to squeak out, half-heartedly stretching my arms above my head and swiping at the slobber glistening on my cheek.

As my senses awaken fully, I finally focus on the source of my morning disturbance. There’s Bruno, sitting next to my bed with his tail wagging vigorously; the unmistakable joy radiating from him is infectious. His glossy coat shines in the sunlight, and his big, brown eyes are practically pleading with me. Any lingering frustration I had evaporated, replaced by an overwhelming wave of affection. How could I possibly stay mad at that adorable, eager face?

“Awe, who’s my baby boy?” I coo in a sing-song voice, unable to resist the allure of his charm. “Are you just bursting with excitement to go for a walk?”

With a playful bark and a little tap dance of his paws, Bruno seems to agree emphatically.

Thirty minutes later, after a whirlwind of getting ready, I stand by the door of my apartment, dressed in my work clothes—an elegant blouse paired with tailored trousers and my favorite heels. I take a moment to adjust my outfit, making sure everything is in place, when Bruno bounces in anticipation, ready for our quick thirty-minute adventure before my workday begins. With a final glance in the mirror and a quick pat on Bruno’s head, I open the door, stepping out into the brisk morning air, ready for whatever the day may hold….

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

Bruno is an exceptional dog and undeniably the best companion I could ever have. His floppy ears and wagging tail always bring a smile to my face, even when he defies my commands with his playful mischief. We have a special bond, one forged through countless adventures and quiet moments together—always Bruno and I against the world.

Yet, our daily walks have become increasingly challenging. The moment we step outside, his excitement takes over; he pulls on the leash with fervor, eager to explore every scent and sound. It feels like I’m trying to hold back a small locomotive, making it more and more difficult to keep him by my side. And then there are my shoes. Oh, my poor shoes! They’ve transformed into his favorite chew toys, often left in a state of disarray, bits of fabric hanging from his mischievous mouth. Despite his less-than-stellar listening skills, I remind myself daily of the joy he brings into my life.

Today is a special day. As I prepare to leave for work, I’m excitedly installing my brand new doggie cam—a small but powerful device that promises to give me a window into his world while I’m away. “Now, Bruno,” I tell him, crouching down so we’re eye to eye. “With this camera, I’ll be able to see everything you do, so I hope you behave yourself!” His ears perk up, flicking back and forth in what seems like focused attention, and for a moment, I almost believe he comprehends the weight of my words.

Standing at the threshold, I hesitate, reluctant to close the door fully. I peek through the small crack, watching him as he sniffs around the room, his tail wagging like a little flag of excitement. “Be good, buddy,” I say softly, my voice laced with affection and a hint of concern. With that, I finally muster the courage to shut the door, leaving him in the safety of our home—hoping he’ll have some fun but also checking in on him from afar.

**** at work

“Gooood morning” I announce.

“Good morning Y/N” Annie greets me behind her little cubicle desk. “So when can I tell you about last night's new hottie” he exclaims, clapping her hands.

“In one sec, just let me check my new cam.” I eagerly open my phone to check my camera…

“Oh good heavens.” my face drops in horror as I watch my Baby Bruno shred the cushions of my couch to pieces!

“What??” Annie looks at me worried, and I turn my phone to show the scary scene unfolding in my living room.

“Oh, honey.” Her face mimics mine, hurt with a mix of fright. " You need to get that dog a trainer,” she admits.

I sigh in defeat….”I think it's time.”

***** back at home

After the day is done and my head is pounding, I finally make it up the stairs to my apartment. I steady my hand on the door handle, unprepared to see the damage. The door creeks open and my jaw drops.

“BRUNO WHAT DID YOU DO!” the pillows are torn, the cushions are ripped, somehow the paintings on the wall are tilled at an angle and the carpet is folded over!

“BRUNO HOW COULD YOU! BAD DOG! BAD BAD BAD!”

~~~~

“There she goes again,” Chan grobbles, lifting himself off of his bed. He slings his arm into one of his shirts and slips his socked feet into some nearby crocs. “Wait here girl, I’ll be right back”.

The familiar sound of his neighbor's high-pitched screams fills the air, a jarring reminder of her vibrant personality. She often yells about movies, her passionately animated rants echoing through the thin walls whenever she's on a call. He can almost picture her pacing back and forth, waving her arms in excitement or frustration over the latest plot twist. And then there’s her dog, a big, overly energetic creature who seems to be the target of her shouts on most days. Whether it’s scolding him for stealing a shoe, begging him to stop barking, or even adoring him for the smallest things, her voice carries down the hallway, a constant backdrop to his weary journey home.

He slams his fits against her front door, “hello!” he calls.

The sound of her heels clicking rhythmically against the wooden floor echoed through the hallway, growing louder with each step until the door swung open. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, his irritation evident in the sharpness of his voice. “Can you keep it down? Your yelling woke me up.”

She paused at the threshold, her wide eyes filled with a mixture of apology and concern. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice soft and sincere. “I pro-” But her attempt to explain was abruptly interrupted as Bruno seized the moment, darting past her and out the door in a sudden, frantic escape.

“BRUNO”

“Sit!” Chan commands firmly, his voice cutting through the air and surprising Bruno, who hadn't been anticipating the order. The suddenness of it makes Bruno halt immediately, his posture shifting as he straightens up. He glances back over his shoulder, locking eyes with Chan, seeking reassurance or perhaps understanding.

“Sit!” Chan repeats, his tone unyielding yet encouraging. Without a moment’s hesitation, Bruno plops down right in front of Chan, a look of bewilderment etched across his face. His large, expressive eyes convey a mixture of confusion and eagerness to please.

“Good boy, come,” Chan praises, his smile widening as he encourages Bruno to follow the next command. With an enthusiastic wag of his tail, Bruno leaps to his feet, ready to obey, his previous uncertainty dissolving as he tracks Chan's movements closely. He follows each instruction effortlessly.

“Go on,” Chan says, guiding Bruno back inside. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just keep it down, will ya?” Once he looks back at his neighbor, her jaw slacks, and her eyes are blown.

“How…how did you do that?”

“You just have to be stern. Now I’m going back to sleep.” Chan turns back to his door, but Y/N leaps in front of him.

“Will you train my dog?!”

~~~~~~~

“I’ll pay you!” I exclaim. This has to be a sign. A gorgeous man that just happens to live right next door to me, AND Bruno listens to me, my prayers have been answered.

“What” he furrows his brow.

“Just watch him while I’m away at work, train him a little so he dosn’t ruin my apartment, and….don’t steal anything” I shrug.

“Ruin your apartment?”.....

>>>> back in the apartment

“So this is ‘ruin your apartment’” he air quotes gesturing to the mess that is my living room.

“Is it not” I question, while Bruno makes himself comfortable on my torn couch. He wags his tail happily as he chew on one of his favorite toys.

“Fair enough” Chan walks around the living room scanning all the little details of the room. He spins on the ball of his heel, “that’ll be…$20 an hour” he says bluntly.

WHAT! I scream in my head. “$20 an hour! I work a full 8-hour shift, thats too much!”

“Yup, take it or leave it” he shrugs.

I took a deep breath, knowing full well that adopting Bruno wasn’t merely a casual commitment; it was a full-time job that came with a mountain of responsibilities. The thought of him sitting at home alone, wanting companionship and care, tugged at my heart. To me, Bruno wasn’t just a pet; he was family, and like any family, he deserved nothing but the best.

After contemplating, I straightened my shoulders and decided, “Fine. I’ll do it.” My voice rang with determination, surprising Chan, who blinked at me in astonishment. It seemed my willingness to accept the terms had caught him off guard.

I couldn’t help but add, “My Bruno deserves the best.” This was more than just a job offer; it was my promise to ensure he received the love and attention he warranted.

A moment passed and I could a hint of a smile on his lips…. His rosey plump lips that I am not just noticing how beautiful they are. And how his eyes shine in the light so perfectly, or how his hair falls just above his eyes, or how broad his chest is….Y/N snap out of it!

“Okay, well then you’ll need to pay me by the end of the week, and I’ll need a spare key to your apartment.”

“Right,” my voice wavers. It suddenly hits me at once: I just invited a complete stranger into my apartment, offered to pay him, and spend time with the most important person in my life. What the hell am I doing?

My nerves are on edge, causing me to scrutinize each and every move he makes. I observe him intently, my gaze fixed like that of a hawk, as he gently strokes the soft fur of my beloved Baby Bruno. I can’t help but notice how his fingers delicately glide over Bruno’s back, and I feel a surge of protectiveness wash over me. Every interaction seems to unravel layers of my anxiety, making me hyper-aware of the atmosphere around us.

“I can hear your nerves from here, you know” Bruno spins a s circle around Chan; his little happy dance always eases my anxiety. “Look, I was kidding about the 20-an-hour thing. 20 a week is perfectly fine.”

My jaw shuts like a cartoon. “But- why-”

“Becuase I know how much you love your dog”

“But we only just met” I counter.

“I told you I can hear everything through the walls”

I scratch my brain trying to think what he could possibly mean…until it hits me.

<<<<<<<<<< the past

Four months ago, I was dating this guy. We thought that before moving on to the next steps—getting married, having kids, the whole shebang—it would be best to practice responsibility together by getting a dog.

But I guess we all show our true colors under pressure.

“LET'S JUST GET RID OF THE DAMN THING!” Noah shouted at the top of his lungs.

“NO, WE ADOPTED HIM! WE TOOK ON THE RESPONSIBILITY! WHAT WOULD YOU DO IF THIS WERE OUR CHILD AND THEY WERE ACTING OUT?” I screamed back at him, tears streaking down my cheeks as I held on tightly to Bruno's body. The shattered lamp lay broken into pieces around us.

“BUT THIS ISN’T OUR KID, THIS IS JUST A DAMN DOG. THAT’S IT, Y/N, YOU HAVE TO CHOOSE, ME OR THE DAMN DOG”

After that night, I told myself I would never let anyone come between me and Bruno. If someone couldn’t understand our bond, then no one could understand me.

>>>>>>>>>> the present

“You heard the fight that night.”

Chan just hums as he continues petting Bruno’s fur. “I was so pissed off that night, but once I heard you yell at him to leave, I knew you and I were the same is some ways”

“Oh?” I question crossing my hands over my chest.

“You and I share the same belief: people can hurt, lie, and abandon you, but dogs simply do not have it in their hearts to do the same.” He says, his eyes bleeding with truth. Even though I’ve been a dog owner for only a short time, I love Bruno more than I could ever imagine. I see his innocence, and I know he would never hurt me or anyone else without a valid reason. He’s not like everyone else in the world; he simply can’t hurt anyone.

“Wait…the same belief?”

Chan chuckles to himself, “Yeah, I have a dog. Her name is Berry, she’s a King Charles”

>>>>> time jump!

And so the morning training walks began.

Chan would come over during the week and stay with Bruno until you returned home from work. He’d train Bruno to listen and obey while you worked the day away.

Chan would also accompany you on your daily morning walk, thats when you met Berry. She was clearly Chan’s princess, feeding her only the best treats and dressing her up in tiny bows to compliment her wavy fur.

The weeks rolled by and you and Chan became pretty good friends, quickly finding a perfect medium in your relationship….so why did your heart race every time he got a little too close? Or why did you immediately recognize his vanilla smell every time he left your apartment, and why did it make your head dizzy with need?

>>> another time jump!

“Ahhh, Saturdays. How I adore Saturdays,” I exclaimed softly, sighing contentedly as I cradle a warm mug of coffee in my hands. The rich aroma envelops me, and I take a small, savoring sip, letting the smooth brew awaken my senses. “No work, late mornings,” I murmur, my gaze drifting out the window. The horizon glows with the gentle hues of dawn, while the sun begins to rise, casting golden rays through the leaves of the trees that sway gracefully in the soft breeze.

“Woof!” Bruno barks enthusiastically, abruptly pulling me from my serene reverie.

“Ah, Bruno,” I say, chuckling lightly. Can’t you wait just five more seconds? You just have to have your walk, don’t you?” I lean my body weight on the counter, my fingers tracing the surface as I look down at him. His head tilts to the side, a curious expression illuminating his face, and those big, expressive eyes radiate eagerness.

“I can’t lie…I’m excited too,” I admit with a grin, bouncing slightly on the balls of my feet. My excitement feels palpable as if it's sparking an electric current in the air around me.

I can't wait to see those captivating coffee-stained eyes, filled with warmth and kindness, and that broad chest—strong and dependable—it makes my mind race with ideas of how strong his arms truly are.

Moments later, I find myself stepping out of my apartment in my bright sunshine yellow sundress. The fabric dances lightly around my knees as I clip the leash onto Bruno’s collar, ready for our afternoon adventure. Just as I’m about to close the door behind me, I hear Chan’s voice call out from a short distance away.

“Oh hey, Y/N!” Chan exclaims, his friendly tone breaking the afternoon stillness.

I turn my head over my shoulder, securing my clutch with one hand as I turn the key in the lock. There, walking out of his apartment is Chan, accompanied by his delightful little dog, Berry. A smile spreads across my face as I catch sight of them. “Hey, Chan!” I reply, my excitement bubbling up as I get down on my knees to greet Berry.

“Hey there, pretty princess!” I say, reaching out to pet Berry’s soft fur. The small brown dog wiggles with delight, her tiny tail wagging furiously as she happily responds to my touch.

Chan walks a bit closer, observing the playful antics of our dogs. “You guys going on a walk, too?” he asks, a knowing smile on his face. He watches Bruno and Berry bounce around each other like they’ve been friends for ages. Despite the stark contrast in their sizes—Bruno is a towering fluffy creature and Berry a petite little ball of energy—their friendship is evident. It’s as if Berry doesn’t even notice the size difference; her joy is contagious.

“Yea,” I answer, lifting from my knees.

“Can we tag along?”

>>> Saturday walk

“Why are you still at that job?!” Chan exclaims, his laughter bubbling from his chest.

“Because it pays well,” I laugh with him. I just told him about my last boss, who got fired for accidentally showing some… sensitive material during a meeting a few months ago. “I really enjoy my job. Even though it can be a bit boring sometimes, I love being in a business that brings joy to people,” I explain.

Chan listens and nods, watching our dogs as they walk closely together. “You know, you’ve never really told me in detail what you do for work,” I say, nudging his shoulder.

“Well,” he scratches the back of his neck. I’m a producer, as you know.” I nod. " People send me voice tracks, and I make other tracks to make a song.” He shrugs, as if it were the easiest thing in the world.

“Yes yes, you’ve told me all that before, but who have you worked for” I raise my brow intending to tease him.

“Haha, I can’t tell you that” he mimics my earlier shrug.

“Uugh” I groan. “Fine, if you can’t tell me who you work with, then can you at least tell me what kind of music you work on?” I ask, pleading with my eyes.

He just smirks and thinks about it for a second, making a dramatic attempt to stall, “okay…I work on a lot of hip hop music and rap music. I also dabble in rock” he sighs out, his smile spreading across his cheeks. He so obviously proud of his work it's cute.

“Can I hear it?” I ask biting my lip. I know I’m asking for too much, he’s already so careful around me, especially talking about his work.

He brings us to a halt looking down at me. I can tell he’s thinking hard about this, he’s staring so intently at me, but his face softens, and he relaxes, like a weight has lifted off of his chest.

~~~~~

This is his chance, he finally has an excuse to ask you over to his place. Its the perfect timing, the perfect reason, and the perfect way. So why can’t the words fall off his lips?

Why can’t he take his eyes off of you and why can’t his body move?!

From the moment you entrusted him with the responsibility of looking after Bruno while you were busy at work, a subtle shift began to take place in the dynamic between you two. As days turned into weeks, he found himself increasingly drawn to you in ways he hadn’t anticipated. Initially, he brushed off his feelings, attributing them to mere loneliness - He thought he was just infatuated with the first beautiful girl who caught his attention.

However, everything changed the day he heard your laughter for the first time. It rang out like music, bright and infectious, enveloping him in a warmth that made his heart race. It was like fireworks shooting out of his chest, and his whole body felt like it was lifting off the ground. And your smile, god how he could never get used to that smile. He loved the way your eyes squeezed tight when your smile met your ears, he knew you couldn’t fake a smile, your real smile was just too genuine.

At that moment, he felt an undeniable spark, a realization that his feelings ran far deeper than he had ever imagined. He would catch himself stealing glances at you, captivated not just by your appearance but also by your kindness, your passion—everything that made you uniquely you. It dawned on him that what he thought was a passing fancy had transformed into something much more.

“Have dinner at my place” it tumbles out like a wall crashing down.

“What?”

Oh shit. Make words make sense. “You can hear one of the songs I’m working on, if you come over, and since you’d be over why not just have dinner?” nice.

Your face is the embodiment of shock, and confusion…but the second he sees that lovely smile appear he finally lets himself breath. “Okay!” you bounce.

“Okay, so my place, lets say….6?” stay calm stay calm stay calm.

“Yea, 6 is great!”

>>>>>> that night

Okay, red dress or black? I rummage through my clothes in my closet deciding what's best to wear to a friend's dinner. Ugh, but I don’t want to be friends. What says “I don’t want to be friends I want to be more, but I also don’t want to make you uncomfortable with the wrong message”?

Black….just go with the black dress.

I glide my hands over the soft fabric of the outfit, feeling how it clings comfortably to my skin. The cardigan, in a rich shade of blue, perfectly complements my favorite colors, adding a vibrant touch to my overall look. My cherry red lipstick stands out brilliantly, making my eyes sparkle when I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. "Finally done," I say with a satisfied smile, admiring how everything comes together.

Turning away, I notice Bruno, my faithful companion, peacefully sleeping on my bed. His fur glimmers softly in the ambient light. I can’t resist walking over to him, and I lean down to plant a gentle air kiss on his forehead, whispering, "Goodnight, my good boy." With a fond glance back at him, I head toward the door.

Its only a few short steps before I’m knocking on Chan’s door. I can hear the shuffle of him and Berry behind the wood, before the door swings open.

“Hey!” he says, his smile reaching his eyes.

“Hey” I giggle back. He steps aside so I can gracefully walk in and I immediately lean down to pet Berry. “Hi princess” I sing.

“Okay okay, the princess can go to bed” he says as he leans down to pick Berry up and take her away to some hidden room.

Once he comes back he sees the pout on my face, “she was fine” I say.

“I know, but now is the time for the adults.” my cheeks flush. “Wine?”

“Love some”

*****************

“Wow, that was incredible!” I exclaim, setting down my knife, my plate completely bare.

“Thanks,” he replies, his cheeks tinged with a hint of shyness as he leans down to collect our empty plates.

“I really mean it! I had no idea you were such a talented cook,” I tease, my voice playful and inviting.

“Ha, yeah, well, I guess we both have our secrets,” he shrugs, his eyes sparkling as he heads to the kitchen sink.

His words linger in the air. I really don’t know much about him, maybe we could change this. “How about we spice things up and play a drinking game? It’ll be a fun way to get to know each other,” I smile, raising my nearly empty glass with a seductive glimmer in my eye.

He pauses for a moment, the intrigue clear in his gaze, then settles back onto the couch, nodding in agreement. “What exactly are the rules of this drinking game?”

I smirk, pulling my glass closer to my chest, the heat of the wine pulsing through my veins. "Alright, we play my game. You guess something about me—if you’re right, I drink; if you’re wrong, you drink. And vice versa." I let a playful glimmer dance in my eyes, the alcohol enhancing the seductive atmosphere between us.

"Okay, I’ll bite, but I get to go first," he replies with a mischievous spark. I can’t help but let a soft laugh escape my lips.

“Fine,” I shrug, my anticipation growing as I lean in slightly, inviting his guess.

“You have a boyfriend. Or a significant other,” he states confidently, raising an eyebrow.

I giggle, the bluntness of his question only adding to the intrigue. “Nope, no boyfriend here.” I lift my glass, letting the rich wine flow over my lips as I take a slow sip.

With an amused nod, he watches me, his smile radiant. “My turn,” I announce, shifting into a more relaxed position, making the moment linger.

“Your tattoo has a special meaning.” I point to the subtle peek of ink just visible on his back.

He glances at where I'm pointing, pulling his shirt down slightly to reveal more of the hidden art. “Of course,” he replies, his confidence shining through. “All my tattoos have a story.”

“All?” I tease, my curiosity piqued.

He bites his lip, teasing me with the thought of dodging my question, but it’s too late for that. He lifts his shirt, revealing a breathtaking view—a chiseled chest adorned with art.

“It’s beautiful,” I whisper, my gaze fixating on the three delicate paw prints trailing down his shoulder, but it’s the intricate compass that captivates me most. “What’s the story behind it?” I challenge.

“That’s another question,” he replies, turning to hold my gaze.

“Had to try,” I smirk, reveling in the tension hanging thick in the air.

“It’s not just about the story,” he says, searching my eyes. “It’s about the people it represents—my seven friends. I owe them everything.”

“I’ve always wanted a tattoo,” I muse, my thoughts spilling out, fueled by the warmth of the wine swirling in me.

He turns fully to face me, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that sends shivers down my spine. He slowly reaches out, his fingers brushing against my ankle. “It would look stunning here,” he whispers, tracing along my skin. A flush spreads across my cheeks, and I feel the closeness ignite something primal within me.

For a heartbeat, it feels like the world has paused—our breaths mingling, the air alive with unspoken desire. “The wine is sure affecting you, huh?” he chuckles softly, never breaking that deep eye contact.

“Lightweight,” I tease, biting my lip, the game intensifying. “Do you want to stop?”

“Now that it’s my turn? Not a chance, baby,” he replies, his voice low and teasing.

A desperate want ignites within me, a need that spreads like wildfire, consuming my thoughts. “You’d be bothered if I told you I dream about you,” he confesses, caught in the moment.

A gasp slips from my lips, but truthfully, I’d be a hypocrite if I didn’t drink—because I dream about him too. So, I throw back the rest of my wine, not caring about the intoxicating aftermath, only focused on the tension lingering between us.

“My turn,” I start, I set my glass on the table in front of us, and move so I can crawl towards his trembling body, “If I kiss you right now,” I come close to his body, inches away from his lips, my breath coating his skin making goosebumps appear on his muscled arms. “You’ll kiss me back” I bore into his eyes, which are pooling with lust.

A sheer moment of silence fills the room; you can feel the heat of the moment radiating off our skin, until finally, Chan grabs hold of the back of my neck, pulling me to crash against his lips in a hungry kiss.

It's nothing soft, or tender, its starved and greedy. His hands make their way over the sides of my thighs, pulling me across his lap so I can straddle his bulky thighs. Its then that I feel the true effects of the alcohol, his growing bulge poking my dripping core, teasing my entrance for what awaits the evening.

I can feel his bare fingertips trace circles along my skin; his touch is so gentle compared to his kiss. His tongue demands entrance, licking past my lips, making my head spin, and the way he moves his plump lips would make any sensible women drop their panties.

My hands grab hold of his shirt, trying to pry it off, but when I try to disconnect our lips, he just chases my lips, trying to reconnect us. I push his body to the back of the couch and watch as his eyes grow even darker than before. I lick and bite my lower lip and that seems to be the end of the line for Chan; with his big hands, he grabs the underside of my thighs, lifting me up along with himself. He carries me to a secluded room with a massive bed.

He throws me across the mattress, letting my back settle into the cushions, but not for long because within less than a minute, he flips me over like I weigh nothing, and his hands immediately palm my ass. His hands grab the rim of my dress, throwing it over my ass enough where he has access. I fist the sheets and press my thighs together, feeling how much arousal has already pooled in my panties.

Suddenly, I felt Chan’s front press against my back. I don’t know when he did it, but I feel the warmth of his bare chest covering my back. Even through the sheer fabric of the dress, I can feel his warm, bare body. “I can be a gentleman, or I can be a madman. Which do you want?”

His words make me moan, and my mind races with what other man I could see tonight. I think about how Chan could be a gentleman, treating me kindly while he fucks me nice a slow, claiming me like I’m his prey. But then a part of me, a deeper, hornier part of me, the pit of my belly burns with the need to see the madness in Chan. The side of him that shows no bounds, that could fuck me into tomorrow without warning.

“Show me your wild side,” I smirk, letting my body buzz with excitement.

I feel the growl in his chest and pull the fabric from his teeth. His fingers trail up to the zipper of the dress, pulling it all the way down until most of my back shows. I let my arms slip through the holes, and he pulls it down until it's bunched up at my hips.

The next thing he does is tear my panties apart, shredding the garment and tossing it to the side. I squirm in the sheets making him groan as I wiggle my ass in the air.

He palms my ass hard enough that I’m sure it will leave marks in the morning. I can feel his finger tracing along the slit of my glistening pussy, playing with my folds, before finally I feel the stretch of a single girthy finger enter pass my fold. I moan at the feeling of the slight stretch; it's not the burning stretch my body craved, but I’ll take anything at this point.

“Fuck this pussy is so greedy, look at your cunt sucking my finger in” he continues to pump his finger slowly into, spreading my wetness all around my folds, making my body squirm more. He harshly grabs hold of my hip with his other hand, his finger still holding place inside me. “You’ll take what I fucking give you”

His harsh words only send sparks throughout my body, doing nothing but heat up the desire bubbling inside me. “more,” I whine out, rocking my ass against his finger, trying to get more friction.

“More?” he questions, leaning in to kiss my left asscheek. “Say please” he growls against my skin.

“Please”

“Good girl,” without warning, he adds another finger past my folds and starts pumping both with no mercy, making my whole body shake.

I scream as I feel my insides tremble from the cheer power Chan holds in one hand. Its in mere seconds that my body is shaking with my first orgasm of the night, but he doesn’t stop until I’m squirting, making a mess against his skin. I can feel the small feather lgght kiss against my ass, just like before, when he removes his fingers, letting my body squirm as it pleases.

“Your so goddamn beautiful,” he growls. My body flops right side up, letting my back spress against the mattress. But I’m only allowed two breaths before Chan seizes our lips together, his hard member poking in between my thighs.I could sense his growing impatience, the way his teasing touch ignited a fire within me. Yet, beneath that playful exterior, I knew he was battling his own inner turmoil, wrestling with desire and frustration. The tension hung thick in the air, a delicious mix of longing and urgency that only drew us closer.

I slide my hand down to feel the smooth skin of his length and start pumping the coat of precum around his angry tip. He pulls away, but not before biting my lip and sucking in a breath. “Fuck” he breathes.

“Me” I whisper back.

~~~~~

Fuck, you are so tight around him. Even when your dripping cunt soaks him, he still feels your tight grip. Tight enough to feel like a warm vise wrapped around his cock, and oh did it feel good.

He slides his hand to your hip, holding you in place and ensuring you won't squirm away. "Don't tense up, I won't be able to last." He grits out between his teeth.

"I won't," you hiss out as he sinks another inch past your wet folds. "fuck your so big"

Chan couldn't help but puff his chest at your words. "Too big?" Was it wrong that your words turned him on more?

"no. give me more," you moan out.......no, no, it was not.

He wanted to take things slow, inching further into you so you could easily take all of him, but you just haaad to say the magic words.

he ventures in another inch or two and sighs as he hears your moans of approval. then he slips out to the tip, coating himself in your slickness before shunting his hips forward, hitting a deeper part of you that sends you gasping for air.

Fuck, you were so tight. He shut his eyes as he felt you spasming around his length. "m-more," you grunted. Barely holding yourself up.

"you don't know what your asking for"

"yes I do, I can feel you holding back" he knew it too. He wasn't one to brag, but he knew how big he was, and from the way he so badly wanted you, it was taking every bit of willpower in him not to pound into you like some uncaged beast.

"I need to take my time, or else I might hurt you," he breathed out.

"I don't care if it hurts. I need you. Now, please." Your wines were like music to his ears. A hidden melody that he didn't know he needed.

He slowly eased out of your pussy, relishing on how your walls clung to him and how the slickness felt like butter. "fuck I need this pussy" he voiced his thoughts.

"then fucking take it. Claim it. Take me"

That was it. That was the last straw. Chan shifted your angle, taking your arms in his and using it as leverage to fuck into you. Chan's hips snapped forward, meeting your shaking form at tenfold.

all thoughts of what could hurt you were clouded by lust as more wetness coated the space between your bodies. Your hips bucked against his, and meeting his thrust sent shockwaves of more pleasure through you.

It was rough. It was wild. It was precisely what you needed and wanted at the same time. You asked him to claim you, and by goddamn it, he was going to make sure he was imprinted so deep inside you that you couldn't take any cock but his for the rest of your life.

You didn't have to worry about laying any claim on Chan. He was yours even before you started your walks. He was yours when he saw who you are. You already owned him, mind, body, and soul. The cherry on top was that each thrust of his hips sent another moan echoing around the room that tightened your hold on him.

He leaned back just enough to see what he was doing to you. he could see the way his dick disappeared into your tight pussy. "tell me you on the pill," he practically whined.

"yes, don't pull out."

He could feel you tightening around him, and he wasn't far behind. The feeling of his balls fighting the urge to finally release the pent-up tightness became painful.

He let one of your arms go to balance yourself as he snuck in below the both of you and down to pinch your clit between his fingers. That in itself sent you screaming, sobbing, begging, your tight cunt gripping his length so hard he could barely keep thrusting in and out of you.

That was his official undoing. He let go. Unloading inside you and releasing a sigh that sounded like waves crashing on the beach.

He stayed there for a moment, letting both your orgasms settle in before either of you said another word.

Once the heat of the moment settled and he slipped out of you.

he watched his cum drip out, and he won't deny it made his cock twitch.

"Jesus Christ, you should see how beautiful you look right now" he says under his breath.

"I think I'll take your word for it," and just like that, he found your whole body flattened against the bed, basically passed out.

"you okay?" he says, half jokingly, half worried. you just hold up an easy thumbs up before closing your eyes and letting sleep take over.

Chan laughs to himself and carries you to lean against the pillows the right way, and maneuvers you under the covers. He'll clean you up in the morning.

He slips in beside you, giving you a small kiss and whispering goodnight to you. You hum. Content and warm, and drawn to that same warmth, you cuddle up into Chan's side.

"We are going to have so much fun together."

*******

AN: I'm making so many Chan fics lately that I almost feel bad. But if yall want to see a specific member please let me know I'm more than happy to fulfill comments/asks/ etc!! love yall.

p.s/ also I'm not sure if yall know this but I make all the banners on my page including the small ones on my ko-fi. I only say this because I had an ask earlier asking about where I get my banners or where I go to find these photos, the photos I take from google but all the color, wording, fonts, etc I make myself !!

#story #stray kids x reader #smut #stray kids smut #stray kids #skz smut #short story #skz #fem reader #limbo #bang chan #christopher bang #chris bang #bang chan stray kids #bang chan smut #changbin stray kids #chan smut #chan #chan x reader

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celuere · 2 days ago

Text

when our hearts break

interlude for Tangled Hearts

pairing: arlecchino x fem!harbinger reader

cw: arle pov time chat, massive hurt with 0 comfort, yearning lesbians, roughs sex, strap-on, pathetic arle, she is very bad with feelings your honor, maybe a lil ooc

everybody go thank della for inspiring me to write this totally not heartbreaking piece! this is also just a short interlude chapter ncjdwkbnfkjnvnvrj

“lady arlecchino, your skills on the dancefloor are truly remarkable…“

“is that so…? you flatter me, lady isabella…“, snaking one hand around the woman‘s hips, the harbinger led todays target over the dancefloor as if it were her last. the only reason why the knave bothered to even be near another woman on one of the fatui gatherings was simple. intel. lady isabella was none other than the little sister of one of nod-krai‘s most influential men. and she needed those informations. badly.

the bitter looks you threw into her direction almost every few minutes did not help masking the bitter taste on her tongue. the taste of betrayal. you did not talk ever since your… „break up“ three weeks ago. if you could call it that.

she will never forget how the light left your eyes on that very day.

she will never forget how the children‘s shoulders sagged in disappointment at the information of your sudden dismissal. and she never hated herself more for it.

oh, and don‘t forget the looks of disapproval she has to endure from tartaglia.

„i… was wondering…“, placing a hand into arlecchino‘s neck, isabella slowly leaned in, lips nearly away from touching.

„what has been on your mind, doll?“, calling anybody else by that name who wasn’t you felt like dagger being rammed right into her spine.

„my hotel is just down the street…“, crimson x‘s following isa‘s finger running down her chest as her mind grew quiet.

that was actually not part of her plan at all. but given her situation… blowing off some steam…

her eyes found yours for the last time this evening, eyes wide as if you heard every single bit of their conversation.

„what is your room number.“

a shiver was sent down the knaves back at the nails dragging over her skin. the naked woman underneath her moaning with each drive of her hips into her. my god, you were taking her so well with your leg thrown over her shoulder, one plea after the other spilling from your lips as she made sure the tip of the dildo was kissing your cervic with each thrust of her hips against yours.arlecchino‘s moved instinctively to your thigh to rub over the scar that graced this part of your body from an injury when you were still just teenagers under „mother‘s“ care.

you loved it when she cherished your scarred body, taking her time time to kiss and caress each one of them.

„[name]… fuck…“, you were taking her so well, moaning right into her mouth as your lips clashed together.

but the skin where your scar was supposed to be was as smooth as silk.

„hah… b-but my name is isa-“, those pair of teary eyes also didn‘t belong to you.

her arousal vanished as quickly as it came at the cold realization of the reality she found herself back in as she angled her hips for the tip of the strap to hit the woman’s sweet spot and shut her up for good.

„you must have misheard me.“, the taste of her still lingered on arlecchino’s tongue and she hated it. she hated how it wasn’t you she was currently fucking. it wasn‘t you was moaning her name on repeat. but she needed to somehow relieve herself. as long as she could somehow delude herself that she was indeed having sex with you, the world was alright.

arlecchino pulled out of the lady underneath her, drawing a pained whine from her as she flipped her over onto all fours. she couldn‘t stand to look at this strange face any longer. she ignored the missing beauty mark scar on her back. ignored how high pitched her voice was compared to you. a problem that quickly resolved as arle scolded her to tone it down. despite how hot her blood was running, the knave felt as cold as ice. at least she didn‘t complain about her fast pace.

soft, calm breaths filled the room behind the harbinger as she was sat on the edge of the bed, her bottom lazily covered by the blanket a she stared daggers into the wall.

a gaping hole in her chest where her heart was supposed to be.

never wanted she someone to slap some sense back into her so badly. at least she got the intel she needed from isabella, gotta think positive or something like that. celestia held her for a fool for good.

you might hate her.

but she will always hate herself more.

#arlecchino #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino genshin #genshin wlw #genshin x you #x reader #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin smut #peruere x reader #doomed yuri #arlecchino x you

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honeypiehotchner · 2 days ago

Text

The Gambit (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- part five

I've officially gone back to work full time, so I might be a bit slower with writing, but hopefully not too much! I'm really excited keep posting this little story with all its twists and turns 🤭🤭 (That being said, the end of this one will prob make zero sense but TRUST ME, it will make sense later on)

Warnings: more of the case, more arguing, depictions of a panic attack, more vagueness about Reader's backstory 👀

Hotch watches you through the two-way glass as you speak to Richard Monroe once again. Rossi stands at his side, watching him watch you.

“She’s doing good,” Rossi comments. “Considering she just started.”

“She’s hiding something,” Hotch says quietly.

“Aren’t we all?” Rossi tries to make light of the moment, though it clearly doesn’t work. “What’s got you spooked?”

Hotch shakes his head slowly. “He recognized her somehow.”

“You’re sure he’s not toying with her?” Rossi asks. “He’s obviously attracted to her. He’s been flirting with her since she stepped in there.”

Hotch can’t explain why but that makes anger burn inside his chest even hotter.

“Relax,” Rossi says.

“I am relaxed,” Hotch says too quickly, too defensively.

Rossi stares at him. “You’re on edge because she’s here again, and she’s on edge because you’re making her on edge.” He points between the two of you to emphasize his point.

Hotch isn’t ready to back down so easily, but he does ease slightly.

He is on edge because you’re here again. He was on edge during that case all those years ago for a reason he couldn’t place — he still can’t place it. Not to mention, you seemed determined to push any and every button of his that you could find. And then some. He lost it, you lost it; it was a disaster. He was as happy to leave as you were to see him go. It’s barely been forty-eight hours since you’ve been back and it’s obvious the same pattern is repeating. Only this time, you’re both stuck with one another. For the indefinite future.

Because, at the end of the day, you’re good at your job, and Hotch is glad you’re here because you’re so good at what you do.

Hotch casts his eyes back to Richard. Is he flirting with you? Hotch can’t exactly tell, yet Rossi says he is. Or did Rossi only say it to get a rise out of Hotch? Not unlikely, knowing David. But it doesn’t make it sit any more right with Hotch.

But you’re getting somewhere with him. That’s important; that’s worth focusing on.

Richard admits that there is one person in particular who had it out for him more than the others. The problem is, that person is in prison. Or he’s supposed to be. Because Richard had him framed.

“Already on it,” Rossi says, putting his phone to his ear. He rattles the name off for Garcia and she goes to work.

Inside the room, you’ve leaned over on the table, your chin in your palm. Clearly sympathetic, trying to get more out of Richard.

Hotch sees it now, the way Richard is looking at you. And he doesn’t like it. He straightens, uncrossing his arms, ready to haul you out of there any second.

+++

You’re getting good information out of him. You haven’t shown him the phone yet, but you will. You wanted him to warm up again first, and he has. You hope Hotch is eating his foot right now from how much he doubted you. And you hope Rossi is laughing at him.

You almost laugh yourself, but you stop, and just in time too, for Richard to throw another curveball your way.

“I think I know what it is,” he says after a moment of looking you up and down — which he won’t stop doing. “You’re all grown up.”

You’re not sure what he’s getting at. “What?”

“Why I didn’t realize it at first,” he continues. “You’re different from the pictures. Older.” He narrows his eyes. “But it’s definitely you.”

“We’re not talking about me,” you redirect him. “We’re talking about Lila.”

“We could talk about you,” he ignores your bait. “Where’d you grow up?”

“Where would he take Lila?” you plow through. “Think about your daughter, Richard. If he has her, where would he take her?”

“He probably just wanted me to turn myself in, the bastard,” Richard says. “Give him a few hours. He’ll let her go.”

“Will he?” you ask. He doesn’t seem at all upset that someone has his daughter. “What about what he’ll do to her? What he’s probably already done?”

He shrugs, then a sinister smirk crawls onto his face. “You were let go without a scratch, weren’t you?”

You can’t hide your reaction. It’s impossible to, when that— that is the last thing you expected him to know.

Before you can react — or realize the laughter you hear is coming from Richard — Hotch is throwing the door open and ordering you out.

“Out, Y/N. Now,” he repeats, glaring at Richard. Not you. Surprisingly.

You stand and leave, your feet working on their own. You pause just outside the room, pulse racing in your ears. The door shuts and Hotch is at your side, looking at you weirdly -- or is that sympathy in his eyes? You don’t know. And you can’t hear a damn thing, but you see Hotch’s mouth moving.

“Y/N,” he says. “I said are you okay?”

“Fine, don’t touch me,” you swat his hand away, not that it was anywhere near your arm. He’s just standing too close and looking at you differently and it’s setting you off all over again. “I’m gonna go get some air.”

“Okay.” He doesn’t try to stop you or lecture you, both of which are a feat for him. He should be proud of himself.

The jab is weak, even in your head. You’re too disoriented to even try something harsher.

You’re out the front doors of the precinct before you can blink, and pacing the sidewalk before you can breathe.

You still can’t breathe, actually. You can’t at all. That’s a problem.

You lean against one of the BAU cars and try to inhale, but it’s like your lungs refuse to expand. They’re shrinking with every passing second and—

You’re sitting on the ground and someone is hovering over you— No, they’re kneeling. They’re saying your name, saying breathe, and you’re trying, but—

“Look at me, you need to breathe, come on,” Hotch takes your hand and presses it between both of his, trying to ground you. “With me, okay?” He takes in a deep breath and you nod, mirroring him, or trying to. You swear you’re trying.

It takes some time, but eventually your breathing evens out again. Reality comes crashing back to you — and Hotch too, apparently, because you both split apart from one another like you’re burning.

“Thanks,” you say, taking in another deep breath.

“You’re welcome,” Hotch replies. He doesn’t sound at all angry, but he won’t stop looking at you.

“No.”

“No?” he asks.

“No,” you repeat. “I’m not talking about it right now.”

“I wasn’t going to ask.”

You scoff. “Sure.”

He pauses. “We will have to talk about it.”

“For god’s sake,” you mutter, rubbing your forehead with a shaking hand. “Not now. And not until we’re back in Quantico. Okay?”

Surprising you, he nods. “Okay.” He waits another beat, still studying you. “Take your time. Come back in when you’re ready.”

You blink after him as he walks away, wondering if that really was Hotch that you just talked to. And not some nicer alien who replaced him.

+++

When you walk back into the precinct, the entire team tries — and promptly fails — to not give you pitying looks.

“I’m fine,” you bite out when Morgan opens his mouth.

He snaps it closed. “Cool. I was gonna ask if you wanted some coffee.”

No he wasn’t. But you let it slide. “Sure. Thank you.”

You settle down in the conference room next to Reid and JJ. Apparently Emily is trying to talk to Richard now with Hotch and Rossi watching, but you’re not sure how far she’ll get, if anything. He seems done being cooperative now. He got what he wanted. Which, for some reason, was to rattle you to your core.

You’re still just not sure how he even knows any of that. The world of serial killers can’t seriously be that small, can it? There’s no way he could’ve known your father and the man who kidnapped you when you were a kid.

And how the fuck are you going to explain any of this to Hotch? He’s not going to let it go; you know he won’t. He will corner you the second you’re back in Quantico and demand answers. Even if you tell him to leave it alone, you know he’ll try to find out in other ways. Because he’s a stubborn jackass like that.

“Here,” Morgan says, handing over a steaming cup of coffee.

“Thanks,” you take it and offer a smile in return. He squeezes your shoulder as you take a sip.

It might be police precinct coffee, but it’s good enough, and it helps. That’s about all you can ask for at this point.

The four of you go over what you know so far once again. Garcia calls with no new leads from the most recent rabbit hole Hotch sent her down, and a promise to keep digging.

“Thanks, Garcia,” you sigh, putting your head down on the table as the call disconnects. “What are we going to do?”

“I don’t know,” Morgan sighs with you. “I mean it’s been well over the window for—”

“Don’t,” you whisper, but loud enough that he stops. “Don’t say it, please.”

“Sorry, kiddo,” Morgan whispers back, resting a hand on your back.

You lift your head. “We’ll get her back.”

JJ and Reid share the same sad look. You hate it. You hate this.

You were gone for two days when you were a kid. You were found on the morning of the third day. There’s still time. Just because it’s been over twenty-four hours doesn’t mean she’s—

Hotch enters the conference room looking just as disturbed as he was when you left the interrogation room earlier. Rossi and Emily trail behind, both watching you closely.

“Morgan and Reid, I want you to go speak with Mrs. Monroe again. Reid, take a close look at Lila’s room, see if there’s anything at all that we’ve missed. Actually, JJ, go with them. Talk with Mrs. Monroe. Update her on everything.”

The three of them nod and begin gathering their things to head out.

“Prentiss, I want you and Rossi to go back to the area where Lila’s phone was found. Canvas the area, keep open eyes. A few officers are already there to help.”

That leaves you. With Hotch.

“Call me with whatever you find,” Hotch tells them. “No piece of information is too small or insignificant right now.”

“Roger that,” Prentiss nods.

One by one, the team files out of the room, and the door shuts behind them. You swallow thickly.

The conference room suddenly feels far too small.

Hotch pulls out one of the chairs next to you, sitting down. He leans his elbows onto the table, not looking at you. Earlier, he wouldn’t stop looking at you, and now he won’t even meet your eyes. You’re five seconds away from tossing this lukewarm coffee in his face.

“Richard mentioned—”

Make that two seconds. “Hotch,” you interrupt him immediately. “I said I’m not talking about this right now.”

“Richard mentioned,” he starts again, ignoring you, “something earlier that startled you.”

You scoff, pushing back from the table. You need to pace. You can’t sit if he’s going to start hounding you for answers now. Right now, of all times.

“We have a missing kid,” you gesture wildly. “In case you forgot.”

Hotch leans back. “We do. And her father seems to know more about your past than I do.”

“Well, you and I aren’t exactly friends.”

“Are you and Richard Monroe friends?”

“What? No!”

“Is he a family friend?”

You freeze. He’s getting too close to the truth already. “What the hell are you getting at?”

Hotch stands slowly, and you take a step back even though he hasn’t moved toward you at all. He notices the action and tilts his head ever so slightly. Fuck. You’re not going to make it out of this. Not when he reads you like a damn book.

“When he said you were let go without a scratch,” Hotch presses. “What did he mean?”

You shake your head. “Nothing. He meant nothing by it.”

“Really?” Hotch continues. “If it was nothing, you wouldn’t be trying to flee this room.”

You blink and realize you’re much closer to the door than you thought, your hand reaching behind you for the door knob. You stop, dropping your hand.

“He mentioned your father,” Hotch says evenly. “But wouldn’t give us a name. Why?”

“Ask him,” you growl. “Ask him these questions since he knows me so well.”

“I’m asking you.”

“What?” you yell. “What the hell do you want from me, Hotch?” There are tears pricking your eyes and you hate it. You hate him. “Now is not the time to go digging through my past just because you have it out for me. I get it, okay? I get that I am the last person on this planet that you wanted to join your team. Believe me, you are the last person I wanted to be working under. But these are the cards we were dealt, alright? So I’d appreciate it if you’d just for once in your sorry, stubborn little life show me some goddamn mercy and leave this alone.”

A tear has escaped that you wipe away quickly, pissed that you let it fall in the first place.

Whatever expression he wears, you can’t read it. “If you’re connected to this case, I need to know. If there’s anything—”

“I would’ve fucking told you already,” you hiss, ready to punch him square on the nose. “I told you to drop it. I can’t do this right now.”

His phone rings, saving him from attempting to say anything else that you might want to deck him for. Thankfully, Hotch answers it.

“Hotchner. Hey Rossi,” he watches you as he talks. And he freezes. “What? Where? How?”

“What happened?” You surge forward, trying to get closer to listen to the call.

Hotch pulls his phone away from his ear and puts it on speaker. Rossi’s voice rushes through.

“An ambulance is taking her to the hospital, but she seems alright,” Rossi says. “We’re going with her.”

“Good, don’t let her leave your sight,” Hotch says. “Are the police canvassing the area?”

“Doing everything they can to look for him.”

“Good. We’re coming to join them.”

You look at Hotch wildly, not exactly excited for sitting in a car with him for hours searching the area for who kidnapped Lila. Not to mention, you seem to be the only one who knows damn well that whoever it was is long gone by now. There’s no way he’s sticking around, or that he’d be dumb enough to turn himself in like Richard.

“We’re not gonna find him,” you mutter.

Both Hotch and Rossi stop talking. “What?” Hotch asks.

“We’re not going to find him,” you repeat. “He’s long gone.”

Both men are quiet. You and Hotch stare at each other. He knows it, too. He knows it’s the truth.

But still, you canvas the area. You sit in the passenger seat as Hotch drives, less reckless than usual. You know it’s no use. You also understand the feeling of guilt that would’ve come if you didn’t at least try.

+++

Lila is sitting up in the hospital bed looking perfectly healthy and intact when you arrive with Hotch. Mrs. Monroe wraps you in a tight hug the second she sees you.

“Thank you,” she says. “For bringing my baby back to me.”

You politely thank her, telling her the entire team helped. You offer a smile to Lila who returns it with a little nod.

You ask some questions, but truthfully, Lila is okay. Shaken up, but she says nothing bad happened. You’re not sure if she’s blocking it out and will one day remember, but all that seems to matter is that she’s back with her mom, and the two appear to be on better terms.

Unsurprisingly, the man who had Lila didn’t tell her his name. He let her see his face, though, which is odd. Bold of him. Hotch makes sure the police know to get a sketch artist to see Lila for a full picture.

Hotch asks as pointed behavior questions as he can, but again, Lila says it was fine. He was irritated, grumpy. Seemed to be waiting on something, but didn’t say what. She was in a house not far from here, in the basement. The police have already swarmed it, but it’s empty, of course. They’re collecting evidence, but Hotch isn’t sure what they’ll find, if anything.

Richard Monroe will keep his deal of life in prison, not the death penalty, if he continues to cooperate. The police seem to hope that with the sketch and Lila’s descriptions, Richard might recognize the guy. Or maybe his face will pop up in the FBI’s database, and Richard can answer questions about him. Until any of that happens, though, Richard remains in custody. And still wants to see his daughter.

You’re not sure if Mrs. Monroe will allow it. Your mom didn’t.

You still don’t know if you wish she would’ve or not. Some days you’re glad she didn’t. Others, like today, you wish she had. There are so many questions you don’t have answers to. So many that you know you’ll never get them all.

#The Gambit #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #hotch x fem!reader #hotch x reader #hotch x you #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #enemies to lovers #angst angst angst #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 2 days ago

Note

Hello, I want to congratulate for gaining such big audience on this blog. Also wanted to say thank you for all your hard work. You are one of the blogs that made me come to this fandom in 2020-2021.And thanks for all emotions that you're precious writtings gave me.

As for headcanons, can you please write another "How it to be friends with... " but with Leona, Sebek, Jamil, Ortho and Deuce? The first one was cute and funny

Have a nice day and stay hydrated 💐💐

Thank you for your support!!

It’s been so long, I forgot I had written friend headcanons in the past 😅 (They’re here if you’re interested! Featuring Idia, Riddle, Ruggie, Floyd, and Kalim~)

Curiouser and Curiouser...

You do many of the typical things that friendly schoolmates do together: walking to class, collaborating on assignments, eating lunch in the cafeteria, studying, etc. You even get into trouble together, though Deuce attempts to be the "honors student" that keeps you two out of it. (He just ends up getting dragged into the situation with you anyway.)

He’s pretty low on pocket money, but if he notices that you don’t have much to eat yourself or you’ve forgotten or skipped over a meal, Deuce offers whatever he has on him. A protein bar, a juice box, whatever! You can always share, right?

The first to throw a punch in your honor! … Okay, maybe that’s not something to be so proud of, but he’ll still do it if someone’s really rude to you. Deuce will at least try to get them to apologize. If they put hands on you though, all bets are off.

Eager to help! Is your phone busted? Hand it to Deuce, he’ll try tinkering with it until it’s operational again. The snack you paid for isn’t falling out of the vending machine? He’ll kick the crap out of it until your chosen snack falls out (along with about 10 other items).

His mom knows all about you because Deuce is constantly telling her about his cool new buddy. Sometimes you’ll walk in on him on the phone and he’ll put his mom on speaker so you can say hi to her. She often thanks you for “looking out” for Deuce while she’s not there—he needs more people like you to support him!

Being friends with Leona grants you a number of "privileges" (which is what he calls them). These so-called "privileges" include: entry to Savanaclaw and/or the Botanical Gardens (without risking the threat of being wailed on to get out), slightly more patience when you call out to him in public, and the random chance for him to chuck his credit card at you and command you to run an errand for him. ("While you're at it, buy yourself something nice for the trouble," he adds.) How... kind (?) of him, right?

He's the kind of friend you have to practically harass to convince him to get out and do something with you. Leona would rather snooze or hang out indoors reading or playing chess or logic games. Sometimes you have no choice but to bend to his whims because otherwise you're not seeing him at all. It's his way or the highway!

If he's in the mood, he'll play a little rough. Leona's not exactly super affectionate (like, he's not going to hug you), but he'll occasionally ruffle your hair or get you in a headlook and noogie you. It's his way of greeting you or saying, "job well done".

A lot of your conversations with Leona are essentially extended exchanging of quips. He’s still every bit as sarcastic and snarky as he is with his enemies, perhaps even moreso with you. It’s not done out of animosity, but rather because Leona wants to keep you on your toes. After all, he let you into his pack—so you can keep up with him, can’t you?

In spite of how lackadaisical he may appear, Leona's the first person you know you can go to if you ever need help. A school assignment, physical training, life advice, whatever. He has this way of saying what you need to hear (even if it isn’t pleasant; he's a realist, not an optimist, and he's not going to sugarcoat it for you) and kicks your ass into high gear.

Definitely the “mom friend”, though out of habit and not because he wants to or actively tries to be. The kind of guy to fuss over whether you’re eating enough or sleeping at an appropriate time.

He often looks frazzled when you greet him in the halls or hang out after classes (which he so rarely does anyway because he’s usually for his hands full and with some Kalim-related task). Jamil vents to you later about what he has to put up with. You’ve never heard him use such colorful language and creative phrases outside of these vents. (He makes you swear to secrecy.)

On hangouts, Jamil comes overprepared. Even if it’s not raining, he brings an umbrella. Even if it’s not sunny, he brings sunscreen and bug spray. In fact, Jamil always shows up with this massive bag of what he calls “essentials”. First aid kit, water bottles, hand sanitizer, hand cream, portable battery, snacks, lip balm, sewing kit, travel toiletries, pens, spare eating utensils, a flashlight, a multitool, sunglasses, a notebook, a mirror, tissues—

His homemade lunches look so good; you tend to stare with quiet longing until Jamil sighs and asks if you would care for some. He acts like it’s a slight inconvenience to him (to salvage his pride and to come off as humble), but really he’s fishing for an excuse to share his food and get a compliment from you. In exchange for feeding you, you feed his ego.

Jamil insists he doesn’t need you to come to his basketball games, he can play just fine without you there. Well, that doesn’t stop you from showing up with a homemade poster to wave around and shouting his name. He acts embarrassed about it and scolds you afterwards, but he’s secretly pleased to have your support.

Ortho's the friend you feel the instinctive need to protect (on account of his small, boyish stature)--but don't be fooled! It's him who's jumping to shoot a laser beam at people who pick on you and you having to hold him back from firing.

He's cute and he knows it. Whenever he wants to get his way (like, say he wants to pick what you do today), he'll put his acting chops to use and pretend to get all sad or claim that you're bullying some innocent little kid to win the disagreement.

You play a lot of video games and board games together but you can never quite win most of the time. Ortho's advanced learning algorithms allow him to learn your playstyles and adapt on the fly, leading to him cinching victory after victory. He takes it easy on you once in a while though, just because it wouldn't be fun to go entirely unbeaten! More recently, you've been really into this racing game called Sugar Rush--and Ortho likes to play dirty and targets you with all the traps he can get his hands on.

You have movie nights too! Sometimes it's mainstream productions but sometimes Ortho shows you sneak peeks of the Film Research Club's latest projects (where he stars). He doesn't eat or drink, so you can monopolize all the snacks and chill as Ortho gets the film rolling... from himself! He has a built-in projector which makes it possible to watch movies on any wall.

Being besties with a supercomputer has its perks. Ortho can fact check you on the spot and provide any and all information you might be looking for in the blink of an eye.

Sebek is one of those friends who speaks callously even to his own friends. He does this with Silver, and he does this with you as well. Every nice thing he says is phrased like an insult (not necessarily aimed at you; it’s usually condescending others when comparing them to you), and it takes some time getting used to his… unique way of communicating.

Big golden retriever energy. He gets so excited when he sees you and practically charges over to give a greeting in the mornings. Same goes for him catching you in the halls--he'll shout from the other end and wave excitedly.

He's in the habit of making book recommendations to you, even if you're not a reader. Each book is selected with the utmost consideration for your interests and reading level; Sebek has oftentimes already gone to the trouble of reading these books and now is waiting on you to give them a shot so the two of you and talk over it and share your thoughts.

He strives for self-improvement and encourages you to do the very same. Sometimes he invites you to join him and Silver for a workout, but if that's too much for you then he can recommend some simple weight-lifting, stretches, or a brief jog.

If you're feeling down, he'll give you a thunderous pep talk that'll get you right back up on your feet! It's like being hit with a jolt of lightning--you're revitalized and ready to tackle the world again.

#twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #disney twst #Leona Kingscholar #Jamil Viper #Ortho Shroud #Deuce Spade #Sebek Zigvolt #twst headcanons #twisted wonderland headcanons #Reader #self insert #curiouser and curious

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