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#you'll never make friends unless you put yourself out there
pomefioredove · 3 days
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Hiii :D
I was wondering if you could do headcanons on Octavinelle (or) Savanaclaw with a Siren reader who's a singer at Octavinelle— who gets comments and remarks against them because they're a siren, claiming their 'vicious' or 'easy' because of their race stereotypes— even if it's not the case. I feel as though it would be interesting to think about🤔
oooh okay interesting interesting
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ siren reader
type of post: headcanons characters: azul, floyd, jade additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not yuu
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as if being a merperson on land isn't hard enough, the worst attention you get comes from the other merpeople on campus
you seem to have a reputation before you even arrive at NRC; the weird looks, the subtle, unflattering comments, the sneers and whispers...
it's unavoidable. you start to think that you may never make any friends. and then...
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Azul really, really didn't want to feel bad for you. he has a reputation to uphold, after all, and if he were to let his walls down because of a little pity... no, no, absolutely not. there are no handouts in life. and if you're anything like him, you'll teach yourself how to get ahead
but... that's just the thing, isn't it? you're like him
Sevens, help him...
so, he looks out for you. he sends the tweels to... handle the students who gossip and spread rumors. he invites you to work at the lounge, knowing you have quite the voice on you
all out of the goodness of his heart(s)
he considers your singing at the lounge payment enough, anyway. it really is beautiful...
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Floyd has literally zero regard for social status or whatever. if he likes you, he likes you, and that's it. will he torture you? a little, but that's how he shows his love!
besides, having him hold your things over his head so he can watch you squirm a little is well worth it. a small price to pay for his protection, since he's now decided that he is the only person allowed to bully you, and anyone who breaks that unspoken rule will have to answer to him
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
has Jade ever been one to judge? certainly not. it's not like he and his brother don't have a reputation of their own, anyway. and he's always been drawn to the dark and morbidly fascinating, not repulsed by it. quite honestly, he wouldn't mind if you were to put a spell on him and eat him. he'd probably enjoy it tbh
but you wouldn't. not unless he asks?. so he's perfectly content with your company as it is
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beawritingbooks · 4 months
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Hi!
My name is Bea, and I am asexual/homoromantic.
Recently, I realized that I don't have many friends that are ace or aspec. That being said, I'd really like to cultivate a community of fellow aspec people.
So, I was wondering if any aspec people out there wanted to chat or be friends?
I am an adult, so this is MDNI. My rule is that I will only chat/be friends with other adults. Also, I mean no hate to allosexuals. You guys are great, and I truly appreciate and value my friendships with the allosexuals that I know! I just think it'd be nice to also talk to aspec people, as well.
If you interact with this post (like, reblog, and/or comment), I'll send you a message!
That is, unless I see in your bio that you are a minor. In which case, while I appreciate the engagement with this post, I will not send you a message.
Thanks for reading 💜
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taeyongdoyoung · 26 days
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wolf and bunny
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summary: you ask your best friend to fuck you in your sleep but your bottled up feelings come out to the surface... pairing: chan x reader genre: smut, best friends to lovers warnings: cnc/somnophilia, discussion of boundaries, eating out, touching, groping, unprotected sex, spanking, stranger+wolf/bunny roleplay, little red riding hood references, face-slapping (once), size kink, cockwarming, multiple rounds, feelings (ew), pet names, discussion of future scenario 👀 (i know i said this is the end but...we'll see) author's note: hii everyone, this is the third and final part of my wolf and bunny series, thank you so much for going on this nasty journey with me 🤍 part one & part two word count: 2k
You and Chan are having a bit of a disagreement in connection with the circumstances surrounding your next game.
“But I want to know exactly which night you’ll do it.”
“If you know, you won’t be able to fall asleep,” Chan reasons with you. “Kinda like Santa Claus. Kids stay up all night waiting for him and then he never comes.”
“Please, even if the kids were asleep, he’d still never come ‘cause the parents are putting the presents under the tree!”
“It was just a metaphor.”
“A bad one. You’re gonna have to work harder to convince me.”
“Hey, wasn’t this your idea in the first place?” Chan reminds you teasingly. “You’re the one who wants me to fuck her in her sleep.”
“Ey, don’t pretend you won’t be into it,” you shake your head.
You are both so stubborn you don’t see this ending unless one of you retreats. Then, after a brief consideration, you speak again.
“Fine. You can keep the secret of the exact night you’ll do this. On one condition.”
“Sure, bunny, let’s hear it,” Chan listens eagerly.
“If I wake up, you won’t stop. I’ll just pretend I’m still sleepy and we keep going.”
“Is that even possible? I mean, for you to not wake up?”
“It is if you drug me or something,” you shrug.
“Ugh, don’t give me such evil ideas. You never know when I might take advantage of you.”
“Oh, I’m counting on it, wolfie.”
“But are you sure the sleep thing is a great idea? I mean, you wouldn't be able to say a safeword...” Chan can't help but worry, always putting your needs first and planning every scenario in great detail to make sure you're alright. Damnit, could he get any more perfect? He's so sweet and considerate you wish you could just tell him how you feel. But what if that scares him away? What if you lose not only your wicked game buddy but your best friend in the entire world? You wouldn't be able to live with yourself.
“Yes, I'm positive, Chris,” you place your hand on top of his. “I trust you 100% and know that you'll look after me. The question is, do you trust my judgement?”
“I mean, I do trust you. It's just that last time you didn't communicate your discomfort clearly and I wouldn't want to risk messing up to the point of accidentally hurting you,” Chan verbalizes his anxieties.
“I get what you're saying but it's not like I'm open to doing this with a stranger. It's you we're talking about. You've always been great at taking care of people so I know you wouldn't go too far. But at the same time, I wouldn't mind if you went loose. If anyone can take it and accept you fully, it would be me.”
“Yeah, I know. You're right. But just in case, I want you to know beforehand that I care about you and respect you like a lot. So, even if I get carried away, I still want you to feel safe.”
“Aww, Chris, ya old softie! I always feel safe with you, it goes without saying!” you insist.
“Well, I like hearing you say it.”
You gulp nervously. His voice is so commanding and yet so reassuring that your words have never rung truer. He's more to you than a safety net and you hope he knows it. He's incredibly thoughtful and infinitely kinder than the first expression. He's a riddle in the way he keeps surprising you and yet you wanna keep learning more about him. He's hundreds of the loveliest words in the dictionary multiplied. He's more comforting than your favourite blanket. He's warmth personified and you would be an idiot to let him go.
“I'll try to say it more often, then,” you promise. “When I'm with you, I know no harm will come my way. But here's the thing...you're the only one I'd willingly let hurt me.”
“I don't want to hurt you, though.”
“You don't?” you pout, suddenly feeling guilty. Then, what have you been doing? Was he forcing himself to act out these fantasies for your sake alone? You genuinely thought he was enjoying them as much as you were.
“Sorry, that came out wrong,” Chan is quick to explain. “I like our games. I meant that I don't want to hurt you emotionally. Ever.”
“Ah, yeah, that makes sense,” you chuckle, feeling a little stupid. “Well, you don't need to worry about that. Glad we had this talk.”
“Me too,” Chan gazes at you fondly.
“So, which night are you fucking me while I'm asleep?” you attempt to find out while he has this dazed look in his eye.
“Next- Hey, nice try! I'm not telling you, you impatient devil.”
“Aw, man, I was so close,” you bemoan the uncertainty of your future.
“You wish.”
The long-awaited night finally arrives. Chan has a key to your place so entering it is too easy. He makes sure he picks a night when you’ve complained about being exhausted and sleepy all day long. And he is certain that you’re passed out in your room, not suspecting a thing. Well, a part of you is always anticipating what could happen, but still.
He’s beyond glad to find you sound asleep. You’re wearing nothing but a t-shirt and some flimsy panties. Chan admires your sleeping form for a couple of brief moments before he gets down to business.
He wonders where to start. Should he tear them up? Or maybe push them to the side? Should he grope your boobs through your shirt? Or perhaps slide his hands beneath it, stroking your nipples directly? So many opportunities. He wants to do everything, he decides.
Chan starts by moving your panties to the side and licking your tiny pussy. He touches you with his fingers, gently prodding your entrance but not exactly sticking them inside yet. Then, he sneaks his hand underneath your shirt, teasing your nipples. Fuck, you’re so soft.
He marvels at the knowledge that you’d trust him with something like that. Though the previous scenarios were hot and intense as fuck, this one hits different for him. Maybe because last time you were awake, you were still in control because you could say the safeword whenever. Maybe because you want him at your most vulnerable even in your sleep. Or maybe because he’s slowly falling for you, but he doesn’t know how to say it.
It’s okay. Chan’ll show you, instead. He pinches your nipples lightly and continues to make out with your pussy. You are so wet already it’s adorable. He wonders if you’re dreaming of him, as you shift slightly in your sleep. He wants to drag this out. But how?
He uses his nails to trace circles on your skin, which causes goosebumps to appear. Are you cold? He wants to keep you warm and full at all times. Chan can’t take it any longer and takes his cock out, sliding in so perfectly. As if you were made for him. Made to take his cock and let him do crazy things to you. His sweet little bunny…
You moan desperately and the spell is broken. You’re awake. He wanders if you’ll speak or he’ll have to make you. Both options sound quite appealing. But he wants to hear your voice more than anything.
“Shhh, go back to sleep, sweetheart,” Chan whispers gently.
“W-who are you?” you cry out.
Aw, you’re gonna pretend not to know him? That hurts. But it can be fun, he thinks.
“Just the big bad wolf,” he chuckles at the irony of it.
“Please, don't do this,” you fake not wanting it, even though you've never wanted anything so badly in your life.
“Oh, bunny, but I already am,” Chan replies, spanking your ass a couple of times in the meantime.
“G-gonna split me in h-half,” you mumble, voice muffled against your pillow.
“Yeah? G'na ruin my sweet girl?” he speaks to you so softly you want to melt right there and then.
“Feel so full 'n so s'eepy,” you slur helplessly.
“Aw, tiny, go back to sleep, then,” Chan pats your head soothingly.
“Can't. What a deep voice you have!” you play along too well.
“All the better to degrade you with, my slutty bun,” Chan laughs, while still continuing to fuck you.
“What big hands you have!” you keep saying.
“All the better to grab your tits with,” Chan chuckles and makes good on his promise by playing with your boobs.
“And slap me with!” you remind him playfully.
“As you wish, princess,” Chan growls and slaps you across the face harshly but not harsh enough to actually leave a mark.
“What big eyes you have,” you sigh wistfully.
“All the better to stare at you fall apart,” Chan responds cleverly.
“And what big cock you have!” you scream, barely resisting the urge to laugh. Are you a silly little bunny or Little Red Riding Hood? At this point, you don't care, but it feels too good regardless.
“All the better to fuck you with,” he grunts loudly, spilling inside of you.
You follow rightaway and urge him to stay like this for a while. Maybe round two is in order?
“You know what else is big?” Chan teases you.
“Oh, shut up, Bigfoot!” you reply and are no longer able to hold it in, breaking into laughter. Chan also finds the interaction hilarious and buries his head in the nook of your shoulder. You stroke his hair without realizing. Shit, he's so adorable you almost say the three words. Is it too risky? Too soon? You need a distraction. You need... “Fuck me again.”
“Already? Aren't you tired?” Chan wants to make sure.
“Fuck me till I fall asleep again,” you ask him.
“Um, okay, sure,” Chan looks a bit confused but does as you ask.
This time there is less talking and more fucking but no matter how many rounds you go, sleep doesn't come again. You both orgasm more times than you could count, but somehow, it isn't nearly enough to distract you from the inevitable. You love him. Your heart knows it, your pussy knows it, even your brain knows it but is stubborny telling you not to confess for fear of somehow ruining things.
Once Chan decides he's completely spent for the night, he pulls out of you and rips off the bandaid.
“Are you alright? Something suddenly shifted but I can't quite place it,” he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear and nudges you softly with his shoulder.
“Do you want the truth that might mess up everything or do you want me to lie to you and say I'm fine?” you ask, even though you're already on the verge to tell the truth.
“With you? Always the truth, please,” Chan clearly states his preference.
You sigh deeply and tilt to the side so you're facing him properly.
“I think...no, I know I love you.”
“I love you, too, babybun,” Chan responds fondly and kisses you on the nose.
“In a non-friendly way. And I don't mean just sexually, either. I mean, the friendly way and the sexual way haven't diminished, of course. But I also love you in a...I want to be yours, your girlfriend, your lover, your romantic partner, your everything.”
Chan is taken aback by your words. You...feel the same?
“You already are,” he confesses genuinely.
“Huh?” you blink in shock.
“I mean...you are already my everything. But, if you'd like me to officially ask you, then...will you be my girlfriend, angel?”
“You...you'll have me?” you are still in disbelief.
“I thought I already had ya,” Chan pinches your cheeks lightly.
“Damn right you do, Mr. Wolf,” you giggle and pull him into a kiss.
He smells like autumn, his embrace exudes warmth and his lips taste like home.
“You have no idea how badly I've wanted to tell you about my feelings,” Chan confesses. “When I found that story of yours in your drafts, I just couldn't resist the opportunity. I hoped that if I turned your fantasies into reality that you'd eventually fall for me.”
“Oh, Channie...I've been falling for you for longer than you realize,” you admit shyly. “How could I not? You're everything I've ever wanted.”
So, this is what it feels like to have the world in your hands. Huh. You could get used to it.
Bonus:
“No, I'm not kidnapping you!” Chan is adamant as you two sit in a nice restaurant.
“But Chriiiis,” you whine. “You said you'd do anything for my birthday.”
“Anything but that!” Chan shakes his head in amusement.
“Why not? It can be fun!”
“Fun? What if something goes wrong, what if someone sees us and thinks I'm actually kidnapping you, what if...hear me out, here, I go to prison for it?”
“Well, duh, then I'd bail you out!”
“As if you could afford it,” Chan rolls his eyes.
“Hey! But seriously, I'll just tell the cops that I asked you to kidnap me.”
“What if they don't believe you and think you have a Stockholm syndrome?”
“I'll...think of something. Come on, we're going too far with the what-ifs.”
“You gotta be prepared for any situation. You'd know that if you carried the heavy burden of being a dom,” Chan tsks at you.
“I'd know that if you let me,” you give him a wink.
“That will only happen the day I agree to fake-kidnap you.”
“So, tomorrow? It's a date!” you grin excitedly.
“Keep dreaming, darling.”
“Oh, I will.”
The End
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luvyeni · 1 month
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HOT MESS ,, 이제노
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pairings ‎⸝⸝⸝ collegecrush!jeno x reader wc. 2.4k
genre. smut
🦢◞  includes ... oral ( fem receiving ), unprotected sex, praise kink , this is kinda angsty.
request. can u write a "campus crush" fic based on jeno's look at the airport please 🙏🩷
「 authors note 𖹭 」 ngl i didn't expect it to be so angsty but reader literally is me and my brain.
❪ masterlist! ❫
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your brain was always on go; constantly it was like it never stopped, even when you would sleep it was like your brain wouldn't turn off— it was never ending, and becoming a college student; living on your own made it worse.
running into your class; the professors back was turned around so you snuck in , sitting down. “you're late again.” yoo jimin, your best friend; the complete opposite of you; she was constantly put together, it was like she had everything together. “i stayed up last night to study.” you whispered, huffing out pulling out your ipad, hair all over the place. “how did it go?” you stared at her stoically. “how do you think?” you said. “point taken.” she said.
“maybe you have like adhd or something.” karina walked next to you; watching you go through your messy planner. “because this can't be normal.” she said. “im sure the doctor has something to cure whatever this was.” you shrugged. “with my luck i would probably be too busy and forget to take it.” she laughed. “probably, you're just a hot mess and that's okay, i still love you anyway.” she wrapped her arms around you, calming you. “messy hair and disheveled clothes that i'm pretty sure you had on yesterday and all.”
jeno on the the hand; he seemed to have his life together— he never came to school looking crazy; even after a night out in which he was black out drunk with his group of friends, he'd turn up the next day, showered, shaven and ready to go on with his date. “it almost scary why aren't you hungover.”
haechan groaned, his head down low. “you out drunk me yesterday; jaemin left you in your dorm unable to pick yourself off the floor.” jeno smugly shrugged, his hair black hair was neatly styled, his outfit that he picked that morning neat on his body.. “i feel fine, maybe you should lay off the alcohol.” the boy would've lunged at the boy if he didn't feel like his head was gonna explode. “haechan look you and yn both look like you had a good time last night.”
jeno turned hearing your name, a small smile on his lips, one no one couldn't unless they were looking really close. “fuck off jaemin.” you huffed sitting down. “except yn looks like that all the time.” haechan said, yelling as you began bang on the metal table. “how's that headache? huh you asshole.” jeno held his hand out , stopping you. “you'll hurt yourself.”
he moved his hand away from you; that didn't really help your rapidly beating heart. along with the stress of school and your everyday life; jeno lee was another thing that raced throughout your already cluttered mind; he sometimes was the only thing that could calm your messy mind— not like he noticed or anything.
“she’ll hurt herself— she hurt me!” haechan cried out. “my head.” holding his head in his hands. “jimin hold me.” you all watched karina fight the whining boy off, you laughter making jeno smile slightly, only stopping when jaemin caught him; wiggling his eyebrows at the boy, jaemin was the only one who knew about his crush on the girl.
“you should ask her out.” jaemin said one day out of the blue. “yn, you should ask her out.” jeno was shocked; he thought he did a good job hiding his infatuation with you. “haechan isn't all the way there and renjun could care less, so of course they don't notice, but bro i'm your best friend , and i can tell , and you don't really hide , you literally write the notes down so she can study.” ever since that day, jaemin never let him live it down.
“yn you have a class soon.” jeno turned to you as you looked down at your phone. “oh yeah i better go.” you shot up. “my professor is gonna kill me if im late again.” you collected your things. “jeno don't you have this class too?” renjun asked, he nodded; calmly getting up, saying goodbye to everyone, before walking away; but walking slowly so you'd be able to catch up to him.
you both made it to the class, you found your seat in the back; jeno took a seat in the front like always, occasionally looking back to check on you— he felt bad, watching you stress out all the time, you could never seem to get anything right in your eyes; but in his eyes you were perfect.
“yn.” your professor stopped you as you were leaving out the door. “yes?” you stopped. “your research paper.” she started. “is there something wrong with it?” you sighed, she didn't have to say anything, but you knew. “listen what if i give you an extra day or two, go over it; read my notes and try again.” she said, you nodded. “thank you ma'am.” you turned walking out of the class, where jeno was waiting. “oh jeno you're still here?”
while waiting for you, jeno overheard your conversation with the professor. “yeah, everything okay?” you nodded. “just need to go home and get my head together so i can get this essay right this time.” he walked silently next to you, before he spoke up. “i can help you.” he said. “go over the essay with you.”
“y-you don't have to, it's all word vomit i don't want to put you through that.” he waved you off. “i don't mind it.” you were about to reject him again when he grabbed your arm, stopping you. “let me help you.” your eyes widened at the sudden touch. “sorry.” he said, removing his hand. “it-its okay.” you said, heart racing. “i can come over to your apartment and go over it with you.” he said. “and it won't be a problem?” he shook your head. “you'll never be a problem, okay?” you nodded. “o-okay.”
“come on let's go.”
it had been so long since you had anyone over besides karina and she was used to your madness; but it had been even longer since you had a cute guy over, and you weren't really planning on having one over— otherwise you would have cleaned your room. “it's a little messy.”
“it's okay, it's just clothes.” he smiled watching you frantically pick up the clothes, shoving them in your closet. “sit.” you pointed to your bed. “please, make yourself comfortable.” you said. “um …” you turned to jeno, your face losing all color— he was holding your bra in his hand. “did you forget something?”
you practically lunged at the boy to grab the item, throwing it into your closet. “let's get started.” you said; he smiled watching you go through your bag to pull out your laptop. “here.” you opened it, pulling up the essay. he took the laptop from your hands, your fingertips touching. “let's see, it can't be that bad.”
it was bad; but jeno didn't let you know that— well he tried. “um, okay.” he said, you frowned. “it's bad isn't it?” he sighed, reading through the essay, looking at you; your eyes were desperate. “i can help you fix it.” he said, you sighed. “it's useless.” taking away the laptop. “if only i can get my brain to stop just for a second , my essays won't be so shit.”
you hated this; your brain wouldn't stop, it was overwhelming. “hey.” jeno called your name, you bit at your nails in stress. “hey.” he stopped you, holding your hands down. “calm down , i told you i'll help you wouldn't i?” he said. “i’ve seen worse essays trust me, jaemin will plagiarize if i let him.” he laughed. “i can help you fix this, but you have to calm down first.” your eyes traveled to where your hands met. “you're so cute but you're a hot mess.”
“me-me? cute.” he chuckled; but you were freaking out inside and out, he shook his head, pushing his glasses up his nose bridge. “let's finish this okay?” you nodded. “o-okay.”
after going over the mess of a essay; reading the notes the teacher gave you and jeno talking you through it; you finally put together an essay that was at least readable and would satisfy your professor. “thank you so much jeno, you saved my life.” you smiled. “it was all you, you'll do good if you just turn that pretty little head off and learn to breathe.”
“that's easy for you to say, your life is so put together.” you said. “i can barely get out of bed on time, it's like you said im a hot mess.”
“you don't want to hear my problems.” you said. “the essay is done and you probably have things to do, you can … mph” before you could get the rest out; jenos lips were on yours in feverish kiss, pulling away to give you enough air before his lips were on yours again.
he pulled away again, ready to kiss you again, but you held his chest signaling him to stop immediately. “did i make you uncomfortable?” he said. “no-no.” you said flustered. “just, it happened so fast, and now my head and my heart is racing.” you were rambling on and on and it made jeno want to kiss you again, you were so cute. “then just turn that pretty head off and let me help you.” he looked at you with so much want in his eyes. “okay?”
you nodded, he held the side of your face, pulling you into another kiss; his lips swiping across your bottom lip, sticking his tongue in your mouth , his grip on your waist, lifting your shirt. “lifting your arms for me pretty.” he took your shirt off , throwing it to the floor. “he-hey just because i use my floor as a hamper doesn't mean you do.”
he laughed, “i'll be sure to fold your clothes neatly the next time i fuck you.” he pulled your pants down, leaving you in your mismatched bra and panties. “baby you really are a hot mess aren't you.” he kissed your stomach once he laid you on your back. “i like that.” he reached for your waistband, pulling them down your leg. “keep them open pretty baby.” he kissed the sides of your thighs. “such a pretty little pussy.”
you felt the warmth of his lips as he kissed your cunt. “j-jeno.” it had been a while since you've felt anything like this, and lord was jeno good at what he was doing , licking your folds , his nose brushing up against your clit, for the first time in a very long time; there was only one thing on your mind— it was jeno.
“fuck jeno!” you moaned, gripping his dark locks. “im… im gonna cum.” you whined feeling him removing his lips for your clit , one of his fingers invading your hole. “you gonna cum for me?” you nodded, he groaned , his cock hard; he was ready to fuck you. “y-yes.” you gasped. “pl-please let me cum.”
“shit.” he cursed, adding another finger, curling them inside you. “so tight baby, go ahead and let go for me, make a mess all over my fingers for me.” you gasped out his name , moaning as you came. “good fucking girl.” he fingered you through your orgasm, until you were holding his wrist , grinding against it. “je-jeno.” he no longer looked put together; his hair messy, clothes disheveled— even his brain was running a mile a minute, he finally knew what it was always like in your head. “you look so pretty when you are cumming.”
ridding himself of his clothes; folding your legs in half, giving him a view of your cunt. “pretty little pussy, want me to stuff my fat cock inside?” slotting his cock in between your folds; moving his hips, the tip of his cock catching your clit , both of you moaning. “pl-please fuck me.” you begged. “shh , baby i got you.”
positioning his leaky tip at your entrance, slipping inside. “fuck.” he sighed, your cunt sucking him in. “so tight.” he gasped as he fully bottomed out. “je-jeno you're so big.” you moaned out; his hand coming up to your throat. “yeah, you like my cock stretching your tiny pussy?” he hissed as you tightened around him, your eyes crossed as he plowed into you. “did i fuck you're pretty head empty?” he questioned, a moan following. “had so much fuck so much going on inside it , now it's nothing but my cock.”
he tightened his grip around your throat; speeding up his thrust. “de-deeper jeno, fuck!” the desperation in your voice , you needed to feel him; the deeper he went , the tighter his hand wrapped around your throat— the less you thought about anything, all your troubles floated away. “je-jeno im gonna cum.”
“yeah?” he speed up, cursing as he chased his orgasm. “hold it just a little baby, fuck , wanna cum with you.” his forehead was pressed against his. “i-i can't , jeno im gonna cum.” you gasped , your fingernails digging into his arms. “ugh , fuck!” he cursed , rubbing your clit. “fuck i'm gonna cum , cum for me pretty baby.”
he made direct eye contact with you as you came , cunt gripping him like a vice. “shit!” he pulled out , roughly stroking his cock as he came, his warm seed splashing on your stomach. “fuck fuck fuck.” he squeezed his base , milking himself, groaning. “shit.”
“you want another?” he toyed with your clit. “your little clit is still desperate for my attention.” you moaned , his finger filling you up. “je-jeno.” your glazed over eyes. “your pretty little mind is floating somewhere else isn't it?” he chuckled. “fucked you too dumb?” you gasped , moving your hips, grinding against his hand. “go ahead, cum for me again, pretty.”
you felt like you were floating; mind empty as you came down from second high. “come back to me, pretty girl.” he coached you back down , a smile on his face. “good girl.” he removed his fingers from your cunt. “you did so good for me.”
“something on your mind?” jeno asked as he watched you pick at your nail beds for five minutes. “there's always something on my mind.” you laughed , about to bite your nails , he grabbed your hand, holding your hand down , rubbing your knuckles. “not when you're occupied.” he smirked , you slapped his naked chest. “it's not that.” you said. “it's you.” he tilted his head. “what do you mean?” you shrugged. “you can tell me.” he said, you sighed.
“when you're around you help me not think, you calm me.” you confessed. “so what you're saying you're a hot mess without me?” you pouted. “why are you making fun of me?” you whined , he laughed , wrapping his arms around your body. “thats fine with me.” he kissed your forehead. “you're a hot mess.”
“but you're my hot mess.”
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©LUVYENI
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ceruark · 4 months
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general yandere headcanons - ratio, boothill, aventurine, sunday
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notes: gn! reader. yandere! ratio, boothill, aventurine, sunday [separate] cw: general yandere themes - obsessive & possessive behavior, stalking, abduction, manipulation, blackmail, brainwashing words: 2250 a/n: one of these is longer than the others. can you tell i have a favorite?
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VERITAS believes genius comes in many forms, and you exhibit some traits that could qualify you as being one. Whether or not you're a scholar, your ability to listen intently, ponder things deeply, and uphold meaningful conversation captured his attention and landed you in his favor. He thinks highly of you, and finds himself eagerly awaiting the next time he can poke your brain about some complex topic you feel like you aren’t equipped to comment on, but do so anyway at his insistence.
His obsession with you isn't apparent at first, not even to him. He tells himself it's simply in a scholar's nature to learn more about the things that intrigue them, and you're not special just because he seeks out information on you wherever he can. His research ends up paying off when he finds out that you desire more than the quaint life you've made for yourself, and he personally extends you an invitation to Veritas Prime.
When you accept, he insists that you attend as many of his lectures as humanly possible. Even if it doesn't align with what you're studying, he convinces you to show up anyway, fabricating some argument for how it will be useful for you in the future. Normally he'd be irritated with himself for giving a lackluster lecture, but he can hardly blame himself for being distracted when he has your undivided attention for hours on end. He's addicted to it, the way your eyes lock with his, the way you hang on to every word leaving his mouth.
Not that any of this is obvious to you. No, from your perspective, he's harsh and critical, always undermining your intelligence by insisting you need additional lectures and overseeing your studies himself. Obviously, he doesn't put much faith in your competency and thinks you'll fail unless you're being handheld the entire way. He may not outright insult you the way he does with others, but his "special treatment" is enough to make you feel insecure in your own abilities.
And that insecurity is a weak point he unapologetically exploits. When he feels like he hasn't seen enough of you lately, all it takes is a few bad marks from him to have you at his side, seeking out guidance and ways to improve. The worst is when he catches you spending too much time (which is any time at all) with those insignificant simpletons you call your friends. Clearly, you have too much time on your hands. Certainly you can assist him with his latest project, no? Well, if you'd rather slack off and lose all the progress you've made so far, that's fine, too.
You'll never know what his true intentions are until he's already involved in or controlling every aspect of your life, and at that point, you can't risk upsetting him. Your future success is contingent on how content you can keep him, and in this new phase of your relationship, you hardly know how to do that.
Better get to researching.
Threat Level: 3/5 Pet Names: darling, dear/dearest
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BOOTHILL loves to make you laugh— it's the thing that drew him to you. He'll do anything to keep your attention on him, not caring how much of a fool he looks so long as you keep those gorgeous eyes on him. But beneath all the flirtation and humor is a deep desperation; he can't lose you, not after everything he's already lost. He stays on your home planet for as long as he can, but he has things to take care of, so he can't stick around forever.
To be fair, he tries. He makes the first few trips alone, leaving you behind to live your life— and every minute is agony. He doesn't know what you're doing, who you're with, or if you're safe. He's glued to his phone, constantly checking the news to make sure no tragedy has struck your home planet or the cozy town you reside in. Every night he wakes up from a nightmare, the sounds of bombs ringing in his ears and the illusion of your corpse still hovering before his eyes.
The next time he visits you, he takes you. You're coming with him— you don't have a choice. He can't live without you by his side, but he can't stay in one place, either. You can fight him all you want, but he's relentless, and his fear builds up into a frustration that causes him to be a little harsh. You're weak, vulnerable, and you can't be expected to protect yourself, so he has to. When he calms down, he tries to convince you that it won't be so bad. You'll get to travel the endless galaxy with the man you'd been so taken with just a few days ago. What more could you ask for?
Trying to escape him is futile. He's probably the easiest one on this list to get away from, but don't let that get to your head: he'll be hot on your trail, so you better hope those few days away from him are worth it in the end.
But with time you'll learn there is some truth to his words; if you don't try to leave him and keep him happy, then maybe you can trick yourself into believing that this is a life you chose for yourself.
Threat Level: 3.5/5 Pet Names: beau, gorgeous, sugar
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AVENTURINE is like a moth to a flame, and your capacity for intimacy is the match. You're the first person in recent memory who treats him as a person, not as a commodity or a body, a wallet or another cog in the machine. Your first interaction was fleeting, but it replays in his mind every time he closes his eyes.
He watches you for some time, learning you inside and out— partially to satisfy his desire to know more about you, but mostly for leverage. He memorizes your schedule and interests, and subpoenas documents to learn more sensitive information, such as your medical history and anything pertaining to your family. He remembers everyone you interact with, making note of who's on the sidelines and who's part of your inner circle. He sees the way you openly bare your heart to them, keeping them comforted by its warmth, and he wants it all for himself. Hasn't he been denied something so pure for long enough?
He's charming in the beginning, using one of his many masks to slither his way into your mind and heart. He showers you with compliments and gifts, leaving you flustered after every single meeting. He knows exactly what you like, so it's easy to keep you fixated on him.
When you two finally make things official, he lures you into the palm of his hand. Your rent unexpectedly went up? No worries, he can start covering that for you— it's no trouble for him, really. Someone important to you had an unexpected health issue and can't cover the bill? He's got it, anything to cause you less stress. Is he sure it's okay? Of course it is. He only wants to see you happy.
When your friends start dropping like flies and even your family starts to distance themselves for you, he's by your side through the turmoil. Fate has been so cruel to the both of you, hasn't it? It's okay, he's here for you. He's not going anywhere.
By the time you catch on to his manipulation and realize he's behind your isolation from your friends and family, it's too late. You're too dependent on him, and he knows everything about you and anyone still sticking by you. Do you dare bite the hand that feeds you? Will you try to escape? Can you afford to pay the price if it all goes wrong?
What will you wager to get yourself back in his good graces?
It’s unwise to try your luck against his. Play along, and perhaps he'll show you the face that you fell for.
Threat Level: 4/5 Pet Names: babe, doll, sweetheart
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SUNDAY takes notice of you because of your carefree nature. Being so trapped in his own head about the fate of Penacony and humanity as a whole, he's captivated by the way you seem unconcerned with matters larger than yourself. While you do plan for the future and have aspirations of your own, you still manage to live in the moment and take things one day at a time, possessing a liveliness he's never quite seen before, never been allowed to have himself.
He knows about you long before you ever meet him. Nightingales line every path you walk, sticking to the shadows and noting everything about you: the places you frequent, the food you like, the type of clothes you buy, your colleagues, your route home, and the little habits you have that he finds so endearing.
When he finally appears before you, you're starstruck— how could you not be? The head of the Oak Family is seated beside you at Dreamjolt Holstery, making small talk about your day and your life and your interests when he could be speaking to any of the other high-profile guests at the bar. You're flustered from the honor of having his undivided attention, and the butterflies in your stomach only worsen when he asks if it would be possible to keep in contact with you. Of course, you give him your number, and your impromptu meeting turns into another, and from there, into more.
He's so earnest in his adoration for you that you never notice how off-putting it is that he seems to already know what you like. Surely it's just a coincidence that he takes you out to all your favorite places and gifts you things that you'd been spending months saving up to buy yourself. It's nothing more than fate that you seem to bump into him at the oddest of times, on your way back home from a night out on the town, or during the day while you're heading out to meet with one of your friends.
It's only when you agree to a relationship that you start to get concerned. Describing his behavior as "clingy" would be putting it lightly; he tries to have you by his side in any way he can, talking you into attending a party with him or asking you to sit in his office at his side while he gets through paperwork. When you go anywhere without him, he's ordering a member of the Bloodhound Family to accompany you. He seems so distressed at the mere thought of you not being by his side, nevermind the thought of you being out in public by yourself— it's not healthy for either of you. Before you can even think to voice your concerns to him, he's wrapping his arms around you and reminding you that he just worries about you. The Family has many enemies, and they would be willing to use you to get to him. He just wants to make sure you're safe.
When Robin goes missing, things take a turn for the worse. He moves you into Dewlight Pavilion, and you don't get a say in the matter. If he's home, you're by his side at all times. Anything you have to tend to at this point can be done from within the comfort of the estate, and in his presence. Even if he's not there, he might as well be; the nightingales and their pervasive gaze are out in the open now, watching as you aimlessly wander the pavilion, getting lost in the maze and growing a little more desperate each time you explore your new home. You move through the mansion with an urgency, like you're searching for something.
Like you're trying to leave.
When Sunday's suffocating protection inevitably gets to you and you try to confront him, he gives you one more chance to see things his way on your own. It's a miscalculation on his end; you snap again, only this time, you manage to find an exit. You make it back to Golden Hour, but by the time you get there, there's already a group of Bloodhounds waiting to catch you and drag you back.
When you're shoved into his office, he's standing with his back to you, hands clasped behind his back. You can hear the heartbreak, the betrayal in his voice as he tells you how hurt he is that you'd endanger yourself after everything he's done for you. Out of guilt or fear, you can't tell, but you apologize and swear to him that you won't do it again.
And you won't— he'll make sure of it. Under the light of the Harmony, all is revealed: his undying love for you, your reciprocation, and the strength of his will over yours. You see it now, don't you? Everything he does is for your wellbeing. Clipping your wings while you're on the ground is just a way to ensure you'll never fall out of the sky. You're safe here, in this gilded cage he's tailored your tastes, with a kind keeper to tend to your every need and shower you with all the affection your heart could ever desire. How could you fault him for that?
You can't. After all, you don’t even remember why you were upset with him in the first place.
Threat Level: 5/5 Pet Names: angel, dear/dearest, dove
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shadykazama · 6 days
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Sun Wukong/The destined one (mostly relationship) headcanons!
The people have spoken and the people crave monkey business. So let's get down to it!
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Post journey Wukong is a wiser, stronger monkey, but don't let him fool you he's still a trickster at heart.
When you first meet, he has you refer to him as 'Great Sage'.
Earning the right to say his given name isn't so much a big moment as it is just him beginning to care for you. You slip up, whether it be because you were sick or injured or just not thinking, and he doesn't correct you. In fact he kind of likes it.
He doesn't make a big deal out of it, but if you watch closely you can see his tail twitch and his eyes lost in thought.
One character flaw you'll have to deal with, even when you're just friends, is Wukong thinks he knows what's best. He's old and wisened and POWERFUL; if he thinks he knows something will be best for you, he'll do it without so much as telling you.
Credit to Hanibalistic! Their one shot about Wukong and stealing an immortal peach for a mortal reader was perfect and exactly how I think he'd act! That impulsive, "I care about this person and will do what I think is best for them regardless of the consequences or their opinion" is very... him.
Hey, we all have our flaws. (Just don't tell him that.)
On the positive side, he wouldn't let a scratch befall you. At some point you'll stop instinctually defending yourself because of how safe you feel with him. Which is heavily ironic considering how often he himself will put you in dangerous situations just to pull a prank.
But besides your poor heart from getting scared so often, you have nothing to worry about. Wukong won't leave room for even one mistake to slip by him.
Expect him to never call you by your name, almost ever. He chronically tends to call people by titles or nicknames. From calling the tang monk, master, or how he'd call Bajie 'idiot' for most of the book- just expect something. He'd only refer to you by name if he were really serious.
Something I personally find really funny that isn't represented in many medias with him is that he's OLD. He's old as hell and he knows it. In the book he'll often refer to basically everyone as 'nephew' or 'little brother' which is oddly endearing and also really funny.
I feel as though most people don't utilize how heavy he is- even in movies and stuff. His staff is like thousands of pounds! You aren't moving him unless he wants you to. God forbid you end up cuddling. Even while resting I never think he'd put his full weight on you, but you'd definitely be stuck.
Will never refuse to help you, but will tease you endlessly for needing it. "Helpless little thing aren't you?"
His love language is gift giving and acts of service.
He's impulsive with words, but look at how he treats you and you'll see how he cares.
Considering his connections, expect to have the world at your fingertips. He'll never leave you wanting, you'll always be satisfied. There is no gift beyond his reach. Just be careful what you ask for, because he WILL get it one way or another.
He is a king, a leader- it's basically second nature to be serviced, and that's why it's so important how he acts toward you. For you, he stays vigilant, ready to catch you if you fall or feed you when you're hungry. For you, he'll carry you in his arms if you're tired. For you he'd put himself in servitude.
Monkeys also show affection to one another by grabbing at each other for attention, and grooming one another's hair.
I don't think he'd have any trouble getting your attention, he's very vocal! So he'd focus more on your hair. Don't be surprised if he randomly starts combing through with his fingers or just playing with it. It's calming for him, and another form of affection.
You've changed him for the better... And for the worse. He happier, more content and occupied (which is good for everyone). BUT, should you ever disappear or get stolen from him he would surely devastate heaven and earth to get you back. The last thing anyone needs is another, more wrathful, Wukong rampage.
Expect to get shown off at every convenience! You're his king/queen and he'll make sure everyone knows it.
You have the BIGGEST wedding. And I think the best part would've been the Chuangmen, which is a wedding game tradition, usually meant for the groom to prove his loyalty, devotion, and desire to marry the bride by completing tests made by her bridesmaids. There are a ton of really interesting Chinese wedding traditions that I would recommend reading about, but with the sheer power of Wukong, these challenges in particular could've been absolutely ridiculous!
Wukong isn't jealous, no that would be ridiculous, he has nothing to fear. That by no means doesn't mean that he doesn't get offended on your behalf. He's gotten upset at not being greeted properly, there's no way in HELL he doesn't get pissed if someone were to flirt with you. They're lucky if all he does is kill them.
Feel free to make fun of him for not being able to swim. He'll absolutely make you regret it, but do it anyway it'll be funny.
Am I the only one that thinks he'd be great with kids? 🤚
Like COME ON- the dude probably helps take care of the baby monkeys on his mountain. He tells them cool stories to get them riled up. Will lay down and let them play with his hair while you read or sing to him.
Give this man kids I dare you.
That's a topic for a different post 😌
Likes kissing you on the top of the head, will also lay his forehead against yours just to be close to you.
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These two designs I really like for him! Y'all let me know in the comments which version is your favorite <3
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💙
The destined one may look like Wukong, but they're certainly different in... most areas.
Being selectively mute makes things a good share more difficult to communicate with him than Wukong, but it has it's charms.
You'd just been... tagging along with him. He didn't mind, unlike the wolves and undead he'd been beating through, you proved no threat to him.
He figured you would just leave on your own- or die. But by some miracle even he didn't understand, you stuck by him through rain and dust storms alike. By the time you made it to the New West he felt obligated to keep you around.
For the first time since you started following him, you were actually in danger. And to both of your surprises, he dropped what he was doing to protect you.
Don't bother asking him why. Whether you do, or simply tell him thank you, he'll just wave you off. But you notice him walking closer to you than normal after that. No longer were you left to catch up with him while he sprinted off; he'd keep stride with you now, glancing at you every now and then.
He CAN talk, and he probably surprises you the first time he does. It's not even for something important. It's just one fateful night where you happen to decide to mess with his hair. You'd pull away after a moment and he'd rumble out a little, "Don't stop."
Now that you KNOW he can talk, it's even more annoying when he refuses to answer you.
He finds it amusing when you get frustrated with him about it. He can't help it. The whole time you're grumbling or ranting at him, he's just staring at you with his stoic face... thinking about how cute you are.
Feel free to give him a name. Not like he'll argue with whatever you pick-
But really, please call him something other than "the destined one". He'd never really needed a name before, but he'd treasure whatever you decide to call him.
He probably has a nickname for you too, he just only says it in his head...
Will click his tongue at you to get your attention. (Absolutely does the 'tsk tsk tsk' thing people do to call their cats)
Speaking of getting your attention- ^ remember how monkeys show affection by just kind of grabbing each other and squeezing and pressing their head against each other?
Yeeeeah. He's a touchy monkey. He won't ask for affection, so he kind of just does it himself. Will rub his head on you, not unlike how cats or rabbits do to mark things they like. Except he's just doing it to be affectionate.
Gets cuteness aggression and WILL just grab you.
If it wasn't obvious, his love languages are physical touch and quality time.
Doesn't need help putting armor on, but if you want to help he won't stop you. (The closeness makes his heart beat fast)
If you were ever both in a bad spot- being threatened and not in a place to put up a good fight, he'd cover your body with his and bare his fangs at whatever was trying to hurt you guys to intimidate it. (It probably wouldn't work- but it's an instinctual response.)
If your feet got cold in the snow in the New West he'd pick you up and let you rest on his back for awhile.
Likes when you rely on him like that, it makes him feel stronger. And besides it just "being his destiny", knowing you'll get hurt if he loses helps him focus during fights.
Terribly jealous individual.
The glare he would give someone is straight up deadly. Watch out for how his tail flicks around when he's irritated too 🤭.
Absolutely adores the sound of your voice, it could bring him out of a coma fr.
Doesn't mind being little or big spoon, he just likes cuddling. Wraps his tail around you when you do.
Always always makes sure you eat before he does, even though he's the one doing all the fighting.
Will let you win play fights (most of the time).
Hearing him laugh is the cutest thing ever I swear- It probably took you off guard the first time you manage it.
Doesn't know how to take compliments.
Probably short circuited the first time you complimented his appearance.
Very gentle, slow kisser. Likes having you in his lap, but will grab cheeky kisses every now and then too. Will tilt your chin up when you kiss, every time.
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Art by @marcu-bug
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bbokicidal · 1 month
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"Where Did I..." | Corruptive!SKZ [H.H.]
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If you've read any of my other works (on my previous account) you would know that I have a knack for (and often write) corruption kink!skz lol. So this delved into that a little, because the theme of 'dumb bimbo gf' tends to go along w/ that. if you want it rewritten more specifically, lmk. ALSO - i labeled the title as a 'bimbo gf' because just saying 'dumb gf' feels a little rude i dunno lol.
warnings : NSFW CONTENT (MDNI), corruption kink! hyunjin during the NSFW headcanons, MEANDOM!Hyun, and I'm talking fucking mean. Like calling you dumb to your face mean.
Hyunjin w/ A Bimbo!GF
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BF!Hyunjin who cherishes you so so much and absolutely will help you with anything you need or ask him for. He'll do your laundry if you aren't sure which button to push, will cut up veggies for soup if you don't know how to, will hand you your phone even when it's right in your back pocket.
BF!Hyunjin who thinks that it's sooooo fucking cute every time you forget something. He'll tip his head and let his hair fall in his face as he watches you fumble with your phone, forgetting how to turn on Do Not Disturb.
BF!Hyunjin who adores the way you get pouty when you forget where you put your favorite dress. He'll watch you get mumbly and all cute about it before offering to just buy you a new one - find one online and he'll go to the store to get it just for you.
BF!Hyunjin who thinks it's SO fucking cute when you walk in a room and pause, eyes glossy and lips popped apart because you can't remember why you walked in there in the first place. He'll stare with a giggly smile as you walk out, then back in, and eventually sit down with a pout as you try to remember.
BF!Hyunjin who ties your shoes for you after watching you knot your laces two different times. He'll just straight up tie them - he won't teach you how to because he thinks it's just so cute watching you forget and fumble. He wants to tie your shoes for you forever.
BF!Hyunjin who has to do the grocery shopping because you can never remember where a single thing is in the store, even if the aisles are labeled. You just go along as his pretty little arm candy.
BF!Hyunjin who doesn't let you carry cash because you count twenties like they're tens and he's not going to let you embarrass yourself in some fancy store - Just take his Black card.
Corruptive!BF!Hyunjin who thinks your 'stupidity' adds to your sexiness in bed. He is obsessed with the way you so willingly submit yourself to him because you don't know any different and you're just too dumb to figure out how to top him.
Corruptive!BF!Hyunjin who presses his thumb into your lower lip to pry your mouth open, murmuring about how cute you are on your knees and how you should just stay his pretty dumb bitch forever.
Corruptive!BF!Hyunjin who hums out shit like, "Open your mouth for me. Just like that. Now sit pretty and let me fuck your throat since you can't suck me off right." And, "You're just my dumb little whore, huh? Don't know any different; Useless unless you're acting as my personal cocksleeve."
Corruptive!BF!Hyunjin who tells you he's so happy you're his girlfriend - and how he knows you'd never cheat on him because you're too dumb to go out and find anyone else.
Corruptive!BF!Hyunjin who pumps you full of his cum and then blatantly lies to you, telling you there's no chance you'll get pregnant because of some dumb reason he makes up in his head. He takes EVERY precaution afterwards to clean you up however and make sure you actually won't get pregnant, but he's going to let you believe that his cum can't get you pregnant so he can keep filling you up.
Corruptive!BF!Hyunjin who tells you it's totally normal for guys to share their girls with his friends just so he can have threesomes with you and the others - He knows for a fact Changbin, Minho, and Seungmin love how dumb you are, too. And you just look so pretty all confused and whimpery with their cocks stuffing all your holes.
Corruptive!BF!Hyunjin who makes the effort afterwards during aftercare to assure you that he absolutely does love you, and that he doesn't really mean all of those harsh words he said to you during sex. He adores you the way you are and outside of the bedroom he really wants you to know that his love runs so deeply for you. He'll curl up from behind and wrap an arm over your waist after cleaning up, press kisses to your shoulder and hold you as tight as possible as he whispers about how one day he'll marry you and keep you safe from the word. And those mean cashiers who can count right.
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intuitively-her · 2 months
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You've been through many trials and tribulations that have only made you stronger! I'm getting specifically that you don't look like the things you've been through. From the outside, you actually look perfect, or your lifestyle does. People would never know the sacrifices it took for you to get here though. Most people wouldn't have even made it through some of the obstacles that you've faced. I also get the vibe that you're very reserved with your energy. Kinda like you don't speak unless spoken to. Not in a bad way though. You could be an ambivert. ENTJ? INFJ? You don't have to do the most to get attention, it comes natural to you. You know how to stand alone. Never been a "follow the leader" type. Your balance and stability are surprising as well. It could be because of your age. Or maybe you used to live a reckless lifestyle but managed to pull yourself out of it. I feel like you have a tendency to go ghost for awhile, but then randomly pop out on some new sh*t. People can never keep up with you. You're an enigma. It kinda frustrates people tbh.😂 On the flip side, you are very loving to those closest to you. You always trust yourself and follow your heart to wherever it leads you. You are your top priority and will always make sure your cup is full before giving to someone else. If your love is not being reciprocated, then you will simply leave. Your love is intense.❤️‍🔥 You could be a gift-giver or you enjoy doing acts of kindness. You always know what to do/say at the right moment. Lastly, your star qualities are VERY attractive to others.🤩 You're so humble about it too. You could be an influencer or have an active presence on social media. You have a lot of copycats and people that try to emulate your energy. It never really sticks though.
Confirmations: Confident, Intellectual, 777, Sarcastic, Smart-ass, Mixed signals, Intimidating, 1010, Charming, Promiscuous, Friendly, Competitive, Creative
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You always find a way to turn your pain into power! It doesn't matter how many hardships you face, you never let it keep you down. You're always onto the next best thing. Always looking towards the future. Someone here likes to take solo-trips often or you enjoy hiking/being in nature. You often come up creative ideas or new ways to make money. Always willing to learn something new. That trait of yours is highly admired by your bosses/higher-ups. You work very well with others. When people work with you, it quite literally increases their luck and money flow. So be mindful of who you share that energy with. You are such a kind and loving individual, even at your lowest. Give yourself more credit boo!❤️ You're very committed to your self-improvement and personal goals no matter what you go through. That's something to be proud of.
Confirmations: Famous, Sexy voice, 111, Friendly, Funny, Someone here has a cat that is very clingy, 444, Pretty skin, Hermoine from Harry Potter, Elusive, Life of the party, Genuine, Beautiful, Seeing 8's everywhere, Someone here owns an exotic animal or you want one
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You know how to transmute any negative energy/situation that is sent your way. You are an alchemist. This is my witchy pile.🔮 You like to play fair and see both sides in situations. Very unbiased. However, you'll also put a b*tch in their place if needed. Cause I'm getting that people like to come into your energy to test/bully you for some reason. But you shut that sh*t down real quick.✅ You may be very introverted, or you have this innocent/naive vibe to you. A lot of people blindly trust you. They know you would never try to cross them. You're a big risk taker. You might do something unconventional for work. People love how you march to the beat of your drum always. You might spend a lot of time alone or you keep a close-knit group of friends. You're not afraid to stand alone whatsoever. Nobody can steal your happiness. That is what's most powerful about you.��
Confirmations: Genuine, 911, 818, Mysterious, Intoxicating, 717, Witch, Self-absorbed, Pretty eyes, 737, 777, Uptight, Predator, Intellectual, Elusive
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You're more than what meets the eye. From the outside, you seem very shy or monotonous even. But you're a true gem baby.💎Your charisma and charm is one of a kind. You stand out without even realizing it. Your wit and sarcasm is very attractive. You have a very unbothered vibe to you. In your own lane, and outta the mix. It makes me think of "Daria". You might go ghost pretty often. You're very big on self-care and your alone time. On the go a lot. ✈️People feel like they can't get ahold of you anymore. You're very focused on self these days. Me vs. me kinda energy. You're a natural creator. Very artistic and out of the box. You might've been this way since childhood. You're often the topic of discussion to those around you. People really enjoy having you around, whether you know this or not. You're a sweetheart once you truly open up. People feel lucky that they took the time to get to know you. You're a true friend.🩷
Confirmations: Clingy, 111, Wife, Light skin tone, 222, One night stand, Player, 999, Mixed signals, Addict, Psychic, Lazy, Outgoing, Eccentric
💖Please do not copy, repost, or steal my work. Thanks!💖
I missed you guyss xx!!🩷🩷🩷
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agentmarvel · 1 year
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Can we have headcanons of fem!reader wife x 141 guys and how they each handle her leaving for girl’s night out in a really skimpy dress?
I think they’d all have hilarious reactions.😂
Omg yesssss
NSFW under the cut
MDNI - 18+
♡ Price:
Oh lord, that man is NOT letting you out of the house.
"Where ya think you're going in that?"
gets a little pissy when you remind him you have one girls night a month, and you have every right to wear whatever you want
"Doesn't mean you have the right to show anyone else what's mine, love."
will physically block the door with his whole body, knowing you won't be able to move him unless he allows it
he isn't mad - no, quite the opposite! it's taking every ounce of his self-restraint not to rip that damn thing in half and have his way with you right there on the foyer floor
"John, move. I don't want to be late!" - "Shame... You should've thought about that before you put on something you know damn well I can't resist."
he thinks it's cute when you argue with him, but you both know this ends up with your front pressed up against the door, panties pulled to the side, and his cock buried to the hilt inside you
after he cums, he pulls your panties back into place and gives you a harsh swat on the ass, not caring that your make up is a little smudged or that your legs are jello while he's giving you that smug look he wears so well
"Enjoy your night out, Mrs. Price. Hurry home."
♡ Gaz:
he's on you before you even walk out of the bathroom after you finish your hair
wraps his arms around your waist, puts his chin on your shoulder, tells you how pretty you look
"This dress new? Haven't seen it on the floor before."
ohhhhh, he is so down bad for you, even after as long as you've been together
makes it a point to grab a quick selfie bc he knows it's a solid confidence booster, and he wants you to feel as beautiful as you look
it doesn't really cross his mind that anyone would try anything on you - you're perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, and he knows who you'll come home to; he knows who's bed you'll be in tonight, who's name you'll be calling in the dark
he even helps you pick the right shoes, even though you know he picks his favorite pair in hopes of seeing you in just those when you get home
ever the gentleman, he walks you out to your car, reminds you to drive safe, call him if you have too much to drink, etc.
he does, however, make it a point to send you some downright raunchy texts and a photo of his more... physical reaction, just in case you needed some motivation to come home a little early
when you get home (early), he's still riled up; he's too impatient to wait for you to make it upstairs, much less to unzip your dress for you, so you end up riding him on the landing until he's too tongue-tied to keep telling you how hot you look
♡ Soap:
you're not making it out of the house. Period.
the SECOND Johnny lays eyes on you, it's over
he's grabby as hell, digging his fingers into any part of you that he can - squeezing your ass, your hips, your thighs, tits, tummy, anything - while he navigates you to the nearest surface
"Yer so fuckin' pretty, baby. Never seen something so fuckin' perfect in my god damn life."
it doesn't matter if you end up on the couch, the kitchen counter, in the back yard; he's eating your pussy like a death row prisoner's last meal until you're crying, trying to wrench his head away with the hair tangled in your fist
he has your dress bunched up around your waist, straps pulled down so he can play with your nipples, but uses the whole garment as leverage while he fucks you stupid
you should've known better than to put a t-bone in front of a starving dog and expect it not to bite
"Go ahead, bonnie; text your little friends, tell them you're not gonna make it, yeah?"
♡ Ghost:
"'course, love. Have fun, be careful, call me if you need a ride."
Simon isn't too worried initially; he knows there isn't going to be a single soul in that bar willing or able to face his wrath should anything untoward happen. but then he actually sees what you're wearing, and all bets are off
that's why he follows you, he tells himself, it has nothing to do with the insatiable urge to destroy your ability to walk tomorrow
nothing trumps your safety, in terms of his priorities. he's simply here to look out for his wife, right?
wrong. he spends the next hour and a half watching you from a darkened corner of the bar while his palms itch with a need to touch
opportunity knocks when you excuse yourself from the table, and he follows you into the restroom, slipping in before you have a chance to lock the door
you're not surprised to see him (duh, you know him better than just about anyone), but you are surprised to find yourself bent over the sink, looking Simon in the eye through his reflection. he's fucking you mercilessly, spewing absolute filth while he pulls your head back by your hair
"My perfect little whore, hmm? Waltzing around in that tiny dress, wearing my fuckin' ring, rubbin' it in everyone's faces that you only open those pretty legs for me."
he wants to cum on your face, but you pout about the possibility of it getting in your eye, or worse, on your dress, so he settles for letting you swallow it instead
his impulses return not much longer after you return to your table; instead, he texts you that he's ready to head out, and you are all too quick to oblige
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reareaotaku · 5 months
Text
Crazy Party
Summary: You're not a party person, but Heffley will not leave you alone unless you agree to come Characters: Rodrick Heffley x Fem! Reader Tw: Peer Pressure, Slight Harrassment [Since my Rodrick Posts are very popular this month, I'm doing another!] [Wrote this a while ago and had to finish it lol]
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He would not leave you alone no matter what you did. He would appear at your locker, your classes, outside the locker room- Hell, even the bathroom! Each time you narrowly escaped him. Though, if there was one thing Rodrick was, it was persistent.
You had never realized how big the school was until you had to find places to hide from him. You weren't exactly sure why you didn't want to talk to him, but you didn't like talking with people; Especially people like him.
You just wanted to do your work, keep your head down and move on with your life. Now he wanted to do pretty much the opposite. You knew he'd ruin your life and you worked to hard for some dude to come and ruin everything you worked for. Though, you couldn't always be lucky.
He finally caught your dad was to busy to pick you up, even though he knew your car was in the shop. You cursed your dad for leaving you open for a conversation with the emo man. His stupid 'Oh, I'm sure you can get a ride from a friend' words rang hrough your mind.
"Need a ride?"
You groan, before looking around realizing the parking lot was empty. You looked back at him, before sighing and getting in.
"So, I'm having a party friday-"
"I'm busy."
"Yeah? Doing what?"
"None of your business-"
"Oh, come on- It'll be fun."
You rolled your eyes, before sighing, "Fine."
---
And that's how you ended up in a crowded house. You sunk into a corner as dozens of people stuffed the room. You didn't want to be here, but the host pressured you to come. Speaking of the host, you could hear him call your name from nearby and you quickly whipped your head around.
"How is the prettiest girl doing tonight? You having a good time?"
You weren't. Although, you couldn't possibly say that, even though you wished you could. "Yes, I'm having a blast," You say, rolling your eyes in the process.
He leans on the wall, before tossing his hair, causing you to slap his hand away.
"Ow! That hurt."
"Oh, you'll be fine."
Before he could respond, someone called his name from the kitchen.
"I'll be right back. Stay right here."
You roll your eyes and the minute he leaves, you leave as well. You decide to explore the house some- Or at least get away from the crowded living room. You start to travel deeper into the house when you hear voices... It sounds like some kids? You put your ear to the door, listening closely.
"Come on Rodrick! Let us out."
You scrunch your eyebrows, before fiddling with the door. It was locked, so you twisted the handle, before opening the door.
"Hello?"
Two faces popped out of the basement, before their faces light up when seeing light.
"Oh my god! Freedom!"
But before the could even get up the stairs, you're pushed inside and the door slams shut behind you. You catch yourself on the railings, so you don't fall. You hear some groaning and you glare at the voices. Or at least you think you did.
"Great, now we're all stuck here."
"Who are you?"
"I'm Rowley!"
You looked towards the voice and we're able to make out a little chubby boy. He seemed sweet, so you were quick to recoperate his happiness.
"Y/n. I'm Y/n."
"Oh- YOU'RE Y/n. My brother talks about you all the time."
"Brother? Who's your brother?"
"Rodrick-"
You groan, interupting the boy. He quickly catches onto your disposition.
"You don't like him?"
"Ehh... That's not it... He's just annoying."
"And mean." Rowley quickly comments, causing you to chuckle.
"Yeah... He is huh?"
You hear a laugh- not from Rowley. You realized that if this kid was Rodrick's brother then he was probably Greg. You had briefly heard about him when Rodrick complained about him.
"You're Greg, right? Aren't you guys in middle school? What are you doing at a high school party?"
"Yeah, we wanted to be part of the 'cool crowd.'" Rowley answers you, before continuing, "But Rodrick locked us down here."
"Wow. What a jerk." You exclaim, before going back up to the door and banging on it.
"It's pointless. No one will hear you. We've tried for hours."
You sigh, "Why would he lock you down here?"
"Because he's a jerk. I thought you knew that," Greg said with an attitude, causing you to turn your head towards him.
"Wow, you're something, huh, Greg."
"I like to think so."
"I'm sure you do. You know you're a lot like Rodrick-"
"I take that as an insult." Greg states, offended.
Before you can retort, the door finally opens and there stands a shocked Rodrick.
"Y/n? What are you doing down here? I've been looking for you...." He freezes when seeing your angry face and crossed arms. He looks behind you to see his brother and his stupid friend. His eyes widen as he stands straighter, "I can explain."
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manicpixiefelix · 9 months
Text
head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}
Part 4.
Summary: While Oliver may struggle to fit into your group of friends as a whole, he seems to fit perfectly by you and Felix's sides. Farleigh grows more unhappy with this arrangement as the weeks go on, and finally Felix has enough of his attitude towards you, and you accidentally overhear. Upset at both Farleigh's attitude and how Felix had to fight with him on your behalf, Felix spends the rest of the night making sure you know just how much you're worth.
{ masterpost }
Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.
Warnings: drinking/intoxication, smut but somehow i managed to still write around the reader's AGAB??? still explicit tho (reader bottoming), and 'dog' being used to demean the reader once.
A/N: 3825 words. it hasn't been even 24 hours since the last chapter. im making good time lol. i promise there will be a lot more oliver in the future (i already have part of chapter 5 that is VERY reader/oliver) but this is an especially Felix/Reader chapter. i know its kind of going slow, we're still only in the first bit of oxford, but it will pick up, i just like really getting into the character interactions. as always, this is unedited, and i'd love any feedback you may have!!
Taglist: @strangemaximoff @renaissance-mama @tsach @malscorner @xhoneymoonx134 @yelchinweasleylothbrok @tarriea @florencediet @butitsbetterifyoudoittoem @belladonnadarksshade @fandom-multiamory @snazzynacho @jubileexoxo @soocore @be-lla-vie @nightingale2124 @willow-sages @null4ndv0id @gracieluvthemoon @day2dream @marvellover98 @navixfr @bitxhinthecomments @daintylovers @alesunsets @noturningbacknow @d0llysposts @alilcloudy @callsignwidow @moviequotes23 @325575 @bonnieblue0606 @osoqueen125 @hot-dino-nuggies @darkness-falls-xo @mattymurderdocks @flowerecs @weepingwitchofthewest @ilovemydinoboi @marsmallow433 @king0flies @cashtons-wife @jessicascharacterbananza @gossvedd
TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)
----
Oliver, by nature, does not appear to be an incredibly tactile individual. Getting shitfaced at your first proper meeting at the pub aside, and not counting the nights he joins you all at the club, he seems perfectly gentle and demure, always taking up as little space as possible, never really reaching out for another person unless they make the first move.
Except with you.
It's never overt, nothing about Oliver is ever overt, he's not throwing his arms around you every time he sees you like Felix, not tucking himself close to you as you all walk to the pub the way the girls of the group liked to do, nor is he leaning on you and treating you like furniture the way Farleigh liked to expression his familiarity. It was small, constant contact. Sitting too close in a booth, knees knocking under the table, shoulder checking you at the bar and staying that close as you both wait for your drinks, studying together in the library, sitting across from one another and his leg sticks out under the table, his ankle reaching yours.
For you it's normal, honestly it's a little toned-down from what you're used to, but there's always something in his eyes when he first makes contact, like he wants to memorise your reaction. Oliver is always memorising, always watching, always observing. There's something almost voyeuristic about his company in those quiet moments, but you're used to being watched, you're used to putting on a show, so you find yourself matching his energy, giving a coy smile when you meet his unreadable gaze. Underneath the table you'll press your ankle back against his, or knock your knee against his with purpose, or lean against his at the bar, acknowledge the contact, relish in it for the moment.
Felix, however, is the king of overt, and has never in his life waited for someone else to reach out for him. Every chance he has he'll pour his focus and attention onto Oliver. The more he learns about Oliver, the more insistent he seems to have him around, even if the rest of the friend group is less than enthusiastic. None of them would ever say as much to Felix, except of course Farleigh, but Felix grows ever more protective of Oliver, and Farleigh learns to keep his mouth shut in the end.
It takes you a long while to see the difference, actually it takes you a long while to realise there even was one. But there was. For all Oliver would orbit around Felix, looking at him like he hung the stars in the sky, he didn't touch Felix unless Felix touched him first. Call it reverence or respect, you just remember the way he'd shrunk away from Felix's bike when you'd first met him, how he'd shrunk away from your handshake after he'd dropped it, always weighing up every decision, never leaping without calculating the risks. He'd rather be touched than reach out and get rejected.
When you finally realise this, that feeling from the pub hits you again, sharp, bright, and intrigued. Everything's already warm and a bit fuzzy, the two of you sitting on Felix's bed, back to the wall, sharing a bottle of orange juice that's also half vodka, pregaming for a party and waiting for Felix to get out of the shower. If this were anyone else, chatter would be flowing brightly between you both, but you'd found early on that you settle into comfortable silence well beside Oliver. The CD player is playing that pop punk CD Annabel leant Felix last week, and Oliver is focused on playing with the rips in the knees of your jeans. He's always a little more bold, a little more tactile when he's drunk, he'll dance with you, will sit with an arm around you or on your knee, but its taken you until now to realise that you've never seen him really do that by his own choice with anyone else, even while drunk.
"Ollie, Ollie, Ollie~" you practically sing his name softly, affectionately, and when he hums in acknowledgement, looking up from your jeans, you lean your chin on your shoulder with a coy little smile, almost nose to nose with him.
"Sorry should I not be -?" He glances to your knee once more, but you snort a laugh and shift your leg to lay it out across both of his. You take another long swig of the juice, and feel his hand fidgeting once more against your knee.
"You make me feel all special, Ollie," you laughed, tipping your head against his, and he once again goes still, "I don't want to treat you like a horse but you do have to stop being so skittish," comes out without you even properly meaning it to, and suddenly Ollie's half spluttering through apologies and explainations.
"I can't- I can't help it, you just kind of say things that catch me off guard, I don't mean to -" this time his fidgeting has a more nervous energy, and you carefully put your hand on his to settle him.
"Sorry, I shouldn't have said that," taking a deep breath, you try and organise your thoughts, "that was mean of me, I'm too used to people without much of a filter."
While Oliver is quiet, doesn't quite feel the need to speak, he does flip his hand around and lace his fingers with yours. Both of you look at your joined hands for a long moment.
"I like being next to you," you tell him with quiet sincerity, "and I like that you want to be next to me."
"Everyone wants to be next to you," Oliver says softly, and out of the corner of your eye you see him turn to look at you, "I just feel lucky that you keep saving space for me here." You give his hand a squeeze, terrified to meet his gaze, terrified of what you might see in the way he looks at you.
This moment overwhelms you, thrills you, makes your chest hurt in a way that's so unfamiliar. The idea of Oliver looking at you, seeing you for all you are outside of Felix's shadow, for wanting to be close despite that - you take another drink.
The shower turns off, and the two of you fall back into silence, sharing the drink as you hear Felix scuffle about the bathroom getting dressed. When he emerges only wearing jeans, towel drying his hair, you wolf whistle at him with the biggest grin just to see him blush. Lobbing the towel at you both, he leans across the bed to take the bottle of juice from Oliver, taking a few long chugs before passing it back.
For a moment, his eyes linger on your still-joined hands, and he smirks as he turns to his wardrobe.
"You two look cute."
"I'm stealing your new best friend," you announce with a shit-eating grin, bringing your joined hands up to your chest, and Felix throws an amused look at you over his shoulder as Oliver ducks his head, unable to his hide own abashed smile.
"Oh it's like that, is it? You'd let yourself be stolen so easily, Ollie?" Felix teased, pulling out a flattering button-down for himself to wear, turning back expectantly. Oliver flushes, looking back and forth for a long moment between yourself and Felix, who was slowly sauntering over to the bed. There's something in his eyes, that look he got when he was carefully evaluating what to say next without trying to look like he was thinking too hard, but it was gone once he settled on Felix.
"It's Y/N, can you really blame me?"
Oh, he's good. Something lights up in Felix's eyes as his gaze darts back and forth between the two of you, something adoring and amused in equal measure. Felix has always held a very high opinion of you, and just as you found joy in his happiness, so did he find joy in yours; he had never been shy about how he loved when others truly adored you, since he thought everyone should. Still, it wasn't something he tended to broadcast the way you wore your loyalty to him on your sleeve. Oliver was very good.
"I actually can't even argue with that," Felix's voice has a kind of softness to it that most people will never hear, but you know it, and there's something about how he's letting Oliver hear it to that warms your heart.
There moment breaks as the CD finishes and Felix starts hunting for his socks, declaring that he should be ready to go in only a few more minutes.
The change after that is less gradual. Of course you're still social and integrating yourself with the whole group, still playing your role in the group dynamic, offering affection and yourself without hesitation, just as Felix did too, but the two of you always make room for Oliver too. He's easing into it more, talking, laughing, reacting and seeming to live more outside of his head. Still, there's a divide in the group, there's something that makes the others hold back, something that means they can't quite understand the affection you and Felix have for the newcomer. Farleigh is a lost cause.
Farleigh can only seem to bring himself to be condescending and bitchy to you when he's sober, and outright won't speak to you while intoxicated.
"The fuck is your problem with Y/N?" You're pretty sure you weren't mean to hear Felix confront Farleigh by the bathroom of the club.
"Don't know what you're talking about," Farleigh snaps, but then you hear a scuffle and thud, and ducking your head quickly around the corner you see Felix holding Farleigh to the wall by his collar. There's a strange sensation in your gut at the sight, knowing his anger was on your behalf, but you didn't want to get caught, and pressed yourself back to the wall.
"My problem is with Oliver," Farleigh hisses, "you both know that, but you don't fucking care."
"Then treat me like dirt, not them."
"Nothing I could say would ever stop you from doing what you want, or who you want, cousin," you hear the sneer in Farleigh's voice, and feel your stomach sink, "but -"
"But what? You expected- expected what? Better from Y/N?"
Farleigh's silence speaks volumes. Once more you peak around the corner and see Felix shove himself away from Farleigh, who simply straightens his shirt, standing tall.
"The fuck do you want me to say?" Finally, Farleigh snaps, "congrats, Felix, you got your dog a dog, and now I can't look at either of you without that freak hanging around like a fruit fly."
"Fuck off," Felix sounds like he's about to be sick. Farleigh obligingly fucks off, and you have to take a long moment, head tipped back against the wall as you fight back tears in your heightened, intoxicated state. While you know you should leave, shouldn't be caught eavesdropping, you can't bring yourself to move fast enough, and Felix rounds the corner, walking almost directly into you.
"Y/N -!" He's clearly forcing a smile for the half second that it takes him to register that it's you, but then he sees your expression, the tears in your eyes, and his face falls, "you okay? What- what's-?" While you press your lips into a thin line, trying not to give anything away, he glances over his shoulders and he's quick to connect the dots, "you heard?"
"I'm sorry, Fi," your voice trembles, and immediately he's wrapping you up in a tight hug, "I don't like making Farleigh mad at you," you sniffle, clutching his sweater tightly.
"Farleigh's being an asshole, that's not on you," Felix's voice leaves no room for disagreement, but still he rubs circles into your back, "that's never your fault."
Its Felix who suggests the two of you head home for the night, but you're glad he knows you well enough to intuit that was what you'd wanted anyways. The two of you say your goodbyes for the night, putting on a happy face, thankfully obscured by the haze and neon lights and highs of your various friends. Farleigh seems to be avoiding you both, so it's only Oliver who seems to want to cling, just a little, as you say goodbye.
Somehow you know he's the only one who can see the truth of your mood in your eyes. He hugs a little longer than usual, still holding you tightly when Felix reminds him about lunch between the two of them the following day. Oliver nods before he steps back, but he doesn't entirely let go. For a moment he looks between you and Felix, you already reaching back for Felix, who takes a hold of your wrist, and then Oliver quickly takes your face and kisses your forehead quickly.
"Get back safe, alright?" He insists with a resolute nod. Both you and Felix manage a genuine smile at that, and finally head from the club.
At first, the walk back to the dorms is quiet; your own mood is low, but there's something about Felix that you don't realise until he starts to fume.
"Can you believe he'd talk about you like that?"
"What?"
"Farleigh; where the fuck does he get off talking like that? Fucking entitled." It's fury, radiating off of him in waves. His intensity surprises you, but your heart's not beating faster out of any kind of fear, "he should know better."
"Felix -"
"I don't care if he's my cousin, he -" and he stops dead, finally turning to look at you. In an instant, seeing the wide-eyed, almost awed love you were looking at him with, all his fury seemed to disappear. Still, there was intensity as he stepped up to you, wrapped one arm around your waist as he cupped your jaw, "he made you cry," the anger was faint but still audible, his thumb running gently over your cheek, where you had wiped the tears away not ten minutes ago, "I never want anyone to do that ever again."
Felix knows how to make you feel good, has had years of practice, but tonight he dedicates every ounce of focus he still has to that cause. It's been a long time since he's properly taken his time with you like this; there's been a lot of quickies, or drunk, sloppy sex when neither of you want to hook up with someone else, messy handjobs in janitor's closets between classes simply because you were bored and liked the thrill of it, or giving each other head in the bathroom of the club or pub when the other loses an arbitrary bet. But the way he worships you is something that only happens when he's feeling especially sappy.
When his mouth isn't on you - kissing, sucking, biting - he's lavishing you with praise until it almost becomes righteous, and his nails dig in and he's losing himself in you and babbling about how anyone who even got to fucking look at you should be grateful.
"Fi -" you gasp, hand coming up to muffle yourself as he's got you to the point of speechless. But he stops, cock deep inside of you, hips pressed flush to yours as you have your legs wrapped around his waist. You groan and whimper and try rolling your hips to create more friction, but his grin is wide as he leans down over you.
"Come on, no, don't do that," he practically purrs, taking your hand, pinning your wrist to the bed next to your head, pinning the other in just the same way so he was braced over you, "I want everyone to hear how you sound when someone's making you feel good." He starts to move again now, slow this time, while this new angle has your thighs splayed somehow further open, all new moans of pleasure escaping you now. Felix looks pleased, face close enough to yours that you're practically panting and moaning into his mouth as he delights at the way he's making you feel.
One of your favourite things about fucking Felix is that he is consistently Felix, which is that he very rarely shuts up, which is fantastic because you love hearing his voice. The praise and love he lays on you this night is interspersed with the way he always is during sex, chatty, always checking in, somehow making casual and curious sound like the hottest things in the world. Even when you're past the point of words and his head is between your thighs, he'll have two fingers inside of you and -
"This alright?" He knows the answer because he knows you, but you've always been endeared by it. Still, you make a breathy noise of confirmation, and you hear his voice drop to something low and firmer, "words, Y/N." God, fuck, the things that voice does to you when he uses it.
"Yes, oh god, Fi, it's good, it's good, it's good -"
You can feel his pleased chuckle as his mouth is back on your tender skin.
Dawn is breaking beyond his window, through the curtains neither of you had bothered to close all night, when you both finally concede, feeling thoroughly satisfied and spent.
"I know you don't like me getting into scraps on your behalf -" Felix, laying out on his back, easy smile on his face as he looks to you, begins.
"Or ever," you roll your eyes, but turn to lay on your side, facing him, unable to stop smiling yourself. Felix chuckles.
"Fine, sure, but," and he wets his lips, his gaze softening for a moment as his eyes meet yours, "I'm never going to sit by and let someone chat shit about you, you know that, right?"
After a long moment of deliberation, you finally admitted -
"I got a girl expelled because of how she was talking about you," you blurted out. Immediately Felix's eyes went wide. He shot up, sitting dead straight and looking back at you.
"You what?!"
"I don't get into scraps like you, but what she was saying was fucking vulgar, and I asked her to stop but she started making these awful, gross comments about how she was going to baby trap you and you'd be too stupid to know, and- and-" you flipped to lay on your back, fidgeting as you recounted the details. Felix was watching you, but you couldn't quite figure out what the look on his face meant, though perhaps he was simply processing it all, "and so I paid someone to plant a whole load of illegal shit in her room and called campus authorities."
Quiet suddenly filled the room, and slowly Felix looked away, choosing to simply stare at his hands.
"The only reason I don't like you getting into scraps is because I just don't want you to get hurt; it actually means so much to me that you care enough to defend me, you know? I'm not a hypocrite, I just worry about you," you tried to laugh, but it sounded lame in the quiet.
"You got a girl expelled for me," surprisingly, you can hear the grin in Felix's words. When he turns back with an incredulous laugh, relief floods through you. In an instant he's pitched himself practically on top of you, peppering your face, neck, and chest with kisses, "you're fucking diabolical, I'm so glad you're on my side!"
Eventually the two of you manage to get to sleep, though it's not nearly enough, as a knock comes at the door at around eleven. Both you and Felix groan, but he insists that you stay in bed.
"Be there in a sec," he calls to the door. After sourcing some boxers, he opens the door just a crack, and you can hear Farleigh on the other side.
"I was a dick."
"You were," Felix agrees.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said all that."
"No you shouldn't have."
"So are we good?"
"I don't know why you're apologising to me," you can hear the passive-aggressive lightness in Felix's tone, and Farleigh sounds confused.
"What do you mean?"
"Of course you know what I mean, Farleigh."
Then, a long sigh from Farleigh, and quietly, almost too quiet to hear it, you hear him ask if Felix knows where you are. You can almost picture the smug smile on your best friend's face as he steps aside and opens the door wide enough to reveal you, in his bed, still mostly asleep.
"Morning..." Farleigh says awkwardly.
"Morning, Farleigh," you yawned loudly.
"I..." he started, looking deeply uncomfortable; Felix had to prompt him to continue, "am sorry for treating you like shit these past few weeks. I don't like Oliver, that's," he sighed, unable to look you in the eyes, "not your fault."
"It's not my fault but you're making it my problem," you tell him bluntly, to which he scowls, "I love you, I have loved you for years, I do not love you less because of Oliver; your jealousy is childish."
"Fine," Farleigh rolls his eyes, "I'll temper my urge to vomit at the sight of him and his poor attempts to fit in whenever you're around- either of you are around."
"We appreciate the sacrifice," Felix rolls his eyes, sarcasm all but dripping from his words. Still, you accept the apology and tension between the three of you seem to ease as the conversation comes to an end. Felix throws himself back down on the bed with a grunt, half laying on you.
"What time is it?" He voice is muffled against the mattress, so you glance at his alarm clock.
"Eleven fifteen."
Another groan from Felix, but he still doesn't move. Slowly, he crawls to a more dignified position, and back under the covers beside you. He wraps am arm around you, pulling you in close so your back was flush against him, his breath warm on the back of your neck.
"Fifteen minutes and I'll leap out of bed with enthusiasm," he says in the absolutely least convincing manner, tucking himself as close to you as possible, "I got lunch with Ollie at the pub."
"That should be nice," you yawn, and rest your hand on his where it's warm against your bare stomach.
"Gotta have a shower, get dressed, figure out if I'm biking or walking," he's mumbling mostly to himself, voice drifting off.
"I'd join your shower but I plan to sleep here until Monday."
"I'll probably join you when I get back."
It's a comforting thought, and you let out a contented hum, before finally adding before you drift off.
"Give Ollie my love when you see him, won't you?" And as your asking, Felix presses a kiss to your shoulder.
"Of course."
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listofwhyyouloveher · 2 months
Note
This is kind of silly but can I request headcanons for the gang getting their ass smacked by their friend or soon to be s/o please 😋 like let’s say their walking and reader is just staring and then is like ‘yolo’ and just smacks it
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Summary: (PLATONICLY) smacking the gang's ass.
Warnings: none (i think?)
Author's Note: this is so very me with my friends
PONYBOY CURTIS
Pony is such a little baby about getting teased by his friends. He's whining "stooopp, stoppp" with the biggest pout, the gang makes fun of him soooo hard for this.
I don't see it happening unless you're soo drunk that consequences don't matter to you anymore so you just walk by him and smack his ass SO HARD that he screams.
He gets so shocked, asking if anyone saw that, if anyone would back him up on that but all the gang does is tease him saying like "saw you what? scream like a girl?"
This for sure starts a war, whenever you're at the Curtis's house just doing whatever Pony will try to smack your ass and you literally have to block yourself from him.
The gang is so tired of you acting like little kids but they laugh whenever you get Pony because he's such a sore loser about it.
JOHNNY CADE
Honestly, don't see anyone teasing him a lot. They probably think he's a little sensitive about it and forget that he's a greaser too. He likes you because you're not walking on eggshells around him.
Like Pony though, he SCREAMS when you slap his ass. No one's ever done that to him before and he's jaw dropped. He literally runs circles around Darry trying to chase you.
He will literally never forget and always turn to face you whenever you're around him. It's started a friendly rivalry like Pony but Johnny is significantly better.
He often sneaks up on you and catches you off guard but you return it by sneaking up on him. The gang has bets on who's gonna win once you guys get tired of your game.
SODAPOP CURTIS
Sodapop and Steve are literally sooo zesty with eachother. It's just their friendship and stuff but smacking ass is not new to them. Soda just doesn't expect it to be from you.
He turns around jaw dropped like you just stole his lunch money. Dramatically scoffs and just stares at you. When you turn to walk away he's for sure trying to get you back.
He doesn't expect you to be on guard though so he almost trips when you run away before he could get you. He's such a sore loser like his brother so he's always trying to one up you.
While Soda has the strength, you have the agility so it's literally such an entertaining battle to watch. Two Bit laughs at you two sooo hard he thinks its so funny.
STEVE RANDLE
Steve is actually a menace to society. He literally attacks Sodapop and Two-Bit, sometimes even Darry and Dallas. He'll run by and smack Soda's ass soo hard and runs so fast no one can catch him.
Until you did by catching him off-guard. He does the slow turn with his mouth open to dramatically signify his shock. He stares at you for a few seconds to try and catch you off guard and get you back.
He's a force to be reckoned with because he gets you back every single time. You're both crying-laughing by the time your worn out, lying on the couch trying to catch your breath because you'd been running around the house with Steve.
He's a formidable opponent but his weakness is that he forgets that you can and will smack his ass so he'll just be walking around and you'll slap him and lock yourself in a room.
TWO BIT MATHEWS
As much as he hates to admit it, Two-Bit sucks at hand-eye coordination. So he's not very good at the little game Soda and Steve started where they'll just come by, smack his ass and run so he can't catch them.
Of course he has his fair share of wins but he's more of a victim, but he takes it lightly because it's funny to him. He's soo shocked that you got involved though.
He was leaning over the kitchen counter talking to Soda when you walked by, turned to Soda and put a finger to your lips to let him know to not say anything.
You literally comically winded up and smacked his ass so hard Two Bit nearly screamed cause he was so scared. You were holding in your laugh and just ran to the other side of the counter for help from Sodapop.
DARRY CURTIS
Darry is such a sweetheart bro, he's literally such a cutie and he gets bullied for it. Soda and Steve literally violently attack him by smacking his ass and running (they call it drive bys).
He doesn't do much but yell at them, telling them that they better wish that he didn't hit them back. Of course when you do it, its different.
For instance you don't hit as hard and you did it so politely too that Two Bit was on the ground laughing. Darry just kind of stood there, an eyebrow raised.
He gave you a light noogie before sending you on your way only for it to happen AGAIN and he just turns around and crosses his arms and tells you that he won't ever trust you again.
DALLAS WINSTON
Dallas is a VICTIM of Soda, Steve and Two. That's the only thing he's unhappy to admit. He's not thinking about how to get them back, he's thinking about girls and parties and all of a sudden HE'S GETTING ATTACKED!!!
He's never going to take it lightly, always smacking them over the head for it. One day he just finished chewing out Steve for doing it when he gets hit AGAIN and its YOU.
He's all like, "c'mon, man, another one?" and his new york accent is soo heavy because he's getting frustrated that hes losing. He tells you that if you do that to him he's gonna do that to you.
Now, if you're ever in the street and Dallas comes up behind you he'll smack your ass and you'll smack his as he walks by. This rivalry is much darker than with Pony or Johnny, Dally is always on guard now and so are you. Two jokes that they should put you two in a ring.
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coff33andb00ks · 3 months
Note
Osc + 1!!
1: tiny hands in big hands <we love a size difference>
requests closed until I catch up <3
You don't like loud music. You hate people being close to you. You suck at dancing, unless it's in your kitchen. And you like alcohol but you don't like losing control of yourself so you only drink enough to relax. Flashing lights give you a headache, and dim corners give you anxiety.
But here you are, drink in hand, music pounding in your ears and lights flashing obnoxiously around you. There's a group of men that you've never seen before here, and their added yells and revelry are adding to your brewing headache.
"Let's go celebrate your promotion!"
When you see her again, you're so killing your best friend. This was celebrating? You'd be so much happier with some good pasta and a binge watch of of your favorite tv show. Maybe a mani pedi. Something relaxing and enjoyable not...
Whatever the hell this is supposed to be.
You sigh and wish you were at home, eyes scanning to find your friends. They went to dance three songs ago. You think they'll be easy to spot, but--
"HOLY SHIT!"
You stumble backwards to avoid being crashed into by one of the men partying hard. He's laughing, almost cackling, and you wince as your drink splashes over your front, staining your light pink top because of course you'd ordered a rum and Coke. The guy laughs, catching himself before slamming into you, and he looks at your empty glass.
"Sorry!" You can barely hear him above the music and he can tell, motioning wildly in a drunken pantomime that isn't too hard to decipher.
C'mon I'll buy you another.
Why not, you decide, nodding. He grins and grabs your forearm, practically dragging you with him towards the VIP section, and you think you see your friends' shocked faces when you're pulled past a group.
The music isn't quite as loud here and you wave off his apologies, taking the napkins he shoves at you to sop up the mess of your top.
"I'm Lando," he tells you, sniffing your empty glass then walking off.
"So pleased to meet you," you mutter under your breath, nose wrinkling as you try to inconspicuously fish the thin straw out of your bra.
"You alright?"
Seriously what is with all the accents? You yank the straw out, squeaking when it slips from your fingers and hits the guy's cheek. He makes a face, cheeks tinging pink.
"I'm fine," you promise. "Sorry, it was - Lando? He bumped into me and, well."
"Sounds like him." The man in front of you smiles ruefully, and as he watches you it fades. "You're not one for clubs are you?"
His accent is so nice. You shake your head, looking around for some place to put the napkins. He takes them from you and shoves them onto a table, then blushes again.
The next thing you know he's taken a jacket off the sofa and is draping it around your shoulders. "Um, your top is kinda..." His cheeks darken even more and he rubs the back of his neck. "See through?"
You almost giggle, finding his embarrassment more than a little endearing. "Thank you." You slip your arms into the sleeves and pull it closed. "Really, thank you. I don't want to flash a bunch of strange men."
"So women would be alright?" he asks with a grin and you do giggle this time, accepting his offer to have a seat.
His name is Oscar and you're so glad he's not a grouch. The only sport of any kind you've ever been interested in was little league softball and you'd been horrible at it, so when the brown eyed man from Australia says he's a race car driver you nod. Lando comes back with a drink for you and it's not a rum and coke but you drink it, enjoying the conversation you're having with Oscar. And when your friends start texting you you sigh, almost sad to go.
"My friends," you say, texting them that you'll meet them at the front of the club. You start to take off the jacket, surprised when he reaches to close it. The spill is dried now, your top sticking to your skin.
"Nah, keep it. Don't want you flashing a bunch of men." He smiles softly and stands, holding out his hands to you.
You don't need his help to stand but you slide your hands into his. They're large, swallowing yours, and you think you may have had a little too much to drink because the difference in size makes you feel fuzzy. He pulls you to your feet, hands still holding yours as you stare up at him. "Thanks," you tell him. And, emboldened by the small amount of alcohol, you lick your lips and lean up on your tiptoes, pressing a kiss to his cheek. You feel his little breath of surprise and his hands gently squeeze yours as you pull back.
"Can - Christ," he groans when his voice lifts an octave in the middle of the word. His cheeks are red and your phone is buzzing with an incoming call. You ignore it, wiggling your fingers against his. "Can I walk you out? And maybe get your number?"
Later, after you're home and showered and have exchanged several texts with Oscar, you think that maybe you like clubs after all.
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five-rivers · 6 months
Text
Welcome Back Home
Phic Phight Fic for Avi!
Danny may have been a superhero.  He may have been annoying.  He may even have been ‘practically an adult.’  He was still Jazz’s little brother.  The one who had once begged her for play time and increasingly baffling milkshake combinations.  The one who helped her fight reanimated turkeys every Christmas.  The one who painstakingly researched what books to give her for her birthday.
So, it wasn't so much a choice to throw herself between him and her parents’ newest and most worrying weapon as it was a reflex.  If any thought crossed her mind while she dashed across the parking lot and into the path of the beam, it was either this is going to hurt or I hope I'm fast enough.
Well, it didn't hurt. It did drop her in the Ghost Zone. Immediately, She whirled, trying to find the portal.
Way back, when she and Danny had come clean about their respective secrets, Danny had sat her down for what he called his ‘Ghost Zone Survival Guide.’
“Okay,” he'd said, spinning in his spinny chair, “Ghost Zone survival, part one.  Don't go there.”
Tucker had snorted.  Jazz, who had taken out a fresh notebook and her special note-taking gel pens, glared at him.  
“I'm serious,” Danny had defended himself.  “The Zone isn't a good place for humans.”
“Why?”
“Do you want some reason other than it operating under different laws of physics and being full of super-powered people who don't care if they kill you by mistake?  The radiation, maybe?”
“Never mind.  Go ahead.”
“That's what I thought.  Anyway, if you wind up going through an unstable or temporary portal, the first thing you need to do is go back through that portal.  Like, forget about anything else that's going on.  Fights, escapes, your car, other people, get yourself back through.”
“That seems a bit callous,” Jazz had said.  
“Well, maybe.  But the Ghost Zone is huge, and natural portals and temporary portals aren't just unstable in space, they're unstable in time.”
“They could spit you out in my first life, the middle ages, a thousand years in the future, you name it,” Tucker had helpfully added.  
“First life?”
“Don't worry about it,” Danny had said.  
“Pharaonic Egypt,” Tucker had answered.  
“The point is,” Danny had continued loudly, “you don't want to take a chance with portals unless you know they're stable or have the Infi-Map.”
“Or time grandpa has your back.”
“Stop calling him that.”
“Who is–”
“It doesn't matter.  He doesn't have your back.  He doesn't have anyone's back.”
Tucker had made a noise of negation.  “He has your back.”
Danny had responded by beaning his friend with a pillow.  
Somehow, despite being genuinely informative, Jazz had come away from the ‘lesson’ With more questions than answers.  None of which were pertinent to her present situation.  
She turned on the spot again, surveying her surroundings in more detail.  It didn't help.  No matter which direction she turned in, there was no portal.  
So.  Step one: failed.  
Onto step two.  
“What if I can't get back through the portal though?” Jazz had asked.  
“Well, if you aren't being actively attacked–”
“You should definitely take care of that first if you are.”
“If you aren't under attack, see if you can spot any landmarks.  If you can see one, you'll at least have a general idea of where you are.  Mostly.”
“We're making a map,” Tucker had said, “but it sucks.”
“That's not a comment on our self-confidence or whatever,” Danny had said before Jazz could interject.  “Stuff moves in the Ghost Zone.  It's kind of like trying to make a map of the solar system.  If you're sitting on Jupiter, you know where the sun is, and you've got a pretty good idea about the inner planets, but unless you have a model you can put the time into, you're not going to have any idea where Pluto is.”
“And you wouldn't know the right time, either,” Jazz had said, contemplatively.  
“Exactly.  But landmarks are still good.  They'll give you your general area, at least.  And maybe what else is around, too.”  He'd given her a photo album full of Ghost Zone landmarks, then, and they'd spent the next half hour going through them.
Jazz was on a floating island.  It was medium-sized, perhaps a dozen or so acres square on this side, full of softly rolling hills covered with purple grass and pale green flowers.  As far as Jazz could tell, there wasn't anything else on it, although that didn't mean there wasn't.  It didn’t look like any place she'd seen or heard of.  
Offshore, the Zone was a moderately-familiar green-on-green.  Foggy ectoplasm and the lack of anything like a horizon made it difficult to judge distances.  
There were a few other islands Jazz could see.  Something like a mountain range, a floating sphere, and, just on the edge of her vision, a slightly more regular conglomeration of shapes that could have been a town.  
Bingo.  
“If you don't recognize anything, do your best to head towards civilization.”
Jazz had raised an eyebrow at that.  “Despite the super-powered people who don't care if I die?”
“She’s got you there, Danny my man.”
“Ugh, why couldn't Sam have been here?”
“Gasp, don't tell me you forgot the mega-ultra-turbo grounding already?  How could you?”
Danny had thrown another pillow at Tucker.  “You're so unhelpful.  Anyway, people are dangerous, but they're also the only place you're going to get directions.”
“And if I see something, how do I get there?  Considering everything is a flying island.”
“That’s a bit tricky.”
Jazz bounced on her the balls of her feet, staring down the green void between herself and her destination.  She’d never done this before, and despite Danny and Tucker’s attempts at an explanation, or even Sam’s later on…  Well, she felt like she should’ve convinced them to bring her to the Ghost Zone to practice.  
There was nothing she could do but try.  She closed her eyes and jumped into the air, believing she could fly with all her might.  Her feet hit the ground again.  Damn.  
One, two, three, she tried again, and again, and again, and then, finally, when she got mad, when she got frustrated, her feet left the ground and stayed off the ground.  She was flying, like only a human in the Ghost Zone could fly.  
She opened her eyes and looked over to the distant probably-town.  It was just as distant as before.  And now she was exhausted from jumping.  Both the jumping right now, and the jumping into the line of fire she’d done earlier.  
Well, no time like the present to get going.  She took off.  
The little details of Danny’s advice hadn’t stuck with her - he’d really waxed poetic - but she was still able to move forward.  She also spent a lot of time moving down whenever her concentration slipped.  Of course, she knew it wasn’t really down, thanks to those same conversations with Danny.  It was just the direction she perceived as down, or something like that.  
Danny liked flying like this.  Danny liked every method of flying to ever exist.  Jazz, personally, hated it.  A lot.  Every minute that passed, every time she slipped, she was terrified that she would go plunging into the murky depths of the Zone, never to be seen again.  
Danny hadn’t been wrong about the Ghost Zone not being good for humans.  
Thank goodness the town really was a town.  She wasn’t sure what she would have done if it wasn’t.  
“If I do get to civilization–”
“--or what passes for it–” Tucker had said.  
“--what do I do then?  Be polite, I assume, but what’s polite for ghosts?  What are the cultural touchstones?  The social norms?”
“Dunno,” Danny had said.  “It’s not like ghosts are just one big group that’s all the same.  But if you get to a group of ghosts, like, I don’t know a village or something, they’ll all probably be fairly tolerant.  To live together without fighting, you know?  Normal politeness will be fine.  Probably.  Assuming they can speak English.”
She managed a landing at the edge of the town.  She hit too hard, and her knees buckled.  A few ghosts stopped what they were doing - she didn’t know what, couldn’t spare the attention while flying - to stare at her.  With an effort she smiled at them.  Closed lips.  Many cultures considered smiles with teeth to be aggressive or rude.  
“Hi,” she said.  “I was wondering if you could help me.”
“Kio?  Kio ŝi diris?”
“Mi ne scias, mi ne parolas la francan.”
Ah.  She should’ve taken up Tucker’s offer to teach her some basic Esperanto.  Danny was never going to let her live this down.  
“Okay, so, what do I do if they don’t speak English?” she’d asked.  
“Get good at charades?  You probably won’t be able to get good directions without speaking the language - I have no idea how you’d do the portal in charades - but you can trade stuff.  Bargain, barter, whatever you want to call it.”
“For food?  Supplies?”
“Eh, not food, actually.  Ghost Zone food is mostly ectoplasm.  Not good for humans.”
“Then what?  Well, you’ll think it’s crazy, but…”
Somehow or another, she got the idea of marketplace and trade across to the ghosts.  Apparently the Esperanto word was related to the English.  Cousins.  Brothers.  Whatever, it didn’t matter.  
What did matter was what she was going to trade to the ghosts.  All she had was her purse, and for a teenage girl, she traveled light.  She had her wallet, parking change, a small handful of coupons, number two pencils, a pencil sharpener, a pen, various hygiene products, lipstick, laser, lipstick laser, sunscreen, the universal pocket psychology guide, granola bars, a screwdriver, a couple of bolts from the Peeler - if only she kept that in her purse - spiked bracelet from Spike, phone, and, okay, she didn’t pack that light.  There should be something in all this that the ghosts here would probably like.
The ghosts who had seen her less-than-stellar landing ushered her to a colorful, cloth-covered stall, the contents of which looked like the detritus of a million flea markets.  The ghost… manning it?  Ghosting it?  Haunting it?  What was the terminology in this case?  Whatever.  The ghost at the stall was pale green and nondescript except for the swathes of polka-dotted cloth wrapped around their body.  
They stared at her with wide eyes.  “Ĉu tio estas homo?  Viva homo?”
She smiled, forcefully.  That didn’t sound like a hello, but she’d take it.  “Hello,” she said.  “Do you have any boxes?”  She made the shape of a box with her hands.  
“The Box Ghost?  You’re saying that if I can’t get directions, my next step is to try to summon the Box Ghost?”
“Hey, believe it or not I’ve got an agreement with a lot of the regulars.  If they bring back lost humans, they get, um.  A nonlethal free day.  In Amity Park.  I can get you a list.  And even if you end up in a weird time, like, before I made the deal or something, the Box Ghost is pretty easy.  Worst case scenario, you can even let Walker catch you.  He always sends humans back.”
Jazz sat on the edge of the town, a cardboard box in hand, purse lighter by a novelty pencil sharpener and the spare screws and bolts.  “Oh, great and powerful and completely terrifying Box Ghost,” she said, feeling ridiculous.  “I have an offering for your awful, terribleness.  It’s cubical and cardboard-ical.  Cardboard.  Whatever.”  She sighed.  “This isn’t going to work, is it?”
“DID SOMEONE CALL UPON THE FRIGHTENING AND FRIGHTFUL BOX GHOST, MASTER OF RECTANGULAR CARDBOARD PACKAGES?”
Jazz shrieked and almost fell off the island.  
The Box Ghost blinked down at her.  “Beware?” he said.
“Hi,” said Jazz.  “A gift?”  She held up the box.  
“THE CARDBOARD IS MINE!”  He leaped on the box and held it to his chest like a baby.  “What do you want from the HORRIFYING BOX GHOST?”
“So, uh, I know you have a deal with my brother?”
“WHOMST?”
“My brother,” repeated Jazz.  “Danny.  Phantom?”
The Box Ghost stared at her blankly.  
“To get humans back to Amity Park?”
“THE BOX GHOST DOES NOT KNOW THE REALM OF WHICH YOU SPEAK?”
That wasn’t good.  The opposite, really.  If the Box Ghost didn’t recognize Danny’s name…
“What if I am in the past?” Jazz had asked.
“Get back to Earth anyway, and survive.  Find a way to get a message to the present.  Between the Infi-Map and, um, other contacts I have–”
“Time grandpa,” Tucker interjected.  
“I should be able to go get you if I know where and when you are.  But I need to know when and where you are.”
Then, Jazz had asked why he couldn't just pick her up at the exact moment she'd arrived, if he was going to time travel anyway, and that had spurred a migrane-inducing argument about paradoxes.  Jazz had gotten the impression that the real reason was more along the lines of ‘Danny isn’t allowed to have any more paradoxes’ than ‘the universe won't let paradoxes exist.’
Jazz smiled thinly.  “Can you get me to Earth?” she asked.  “Please?  It’ll be worth your while.”
“Worth the while of the GREAT BOX GHOST?”
“Yep.  It might take a while, but you’ll get more of those.”  She nodded towards the box in the ghost’s arms.  “Consider it an investment in future, um, fear.”
“FEAR?”
“Yes.  As in, um, fear me?”
“No, you shall FEAR ME!”
“Exactly,” said Jazz.  “Just like that.  Can you do it?  Or… is it beyond the powers of even the Box Ghost?”
“NOTHING IS BEYOND THE BOX GHOST!  I AM EXTREME IN EVERY WAY!  THE BOX GHOST WILL SHOW THE STRANGE GIRL WITH GIFTS THE WAY TO HIS SECRET PORTAL!”
At least something was going right.  “Thanks,” Jazz said.  “That sounds great.  I really appreciate it.  Where is it?”
“FOLLOW ME!”  The Box Ghost paused.  “AND FEAR ME!”
He flew off, and Jazz struggled to keep up.  Luckily, the Box Ghost was courteous enough to stop for her every once in a while.  The flight seemed to go on forever, but, eventually, they came to a stop in front of a twisting, spluttering portal.  
“Does this really lead to the Earth?” Jazz asked.  
“THE BOX GHOST DOES NOT LIE!”
“Oh, no, I didn’t mean to imply that.  It’s just… is it always so sparky?”
“IT IS UNSTABLE!  ONLY THE BOX GHOST IS BRAVE ENOUGH TO USE IT!”
Which meant that it could spit her out anywhere, at any time.  But at least she’d be on Earth, AKA somewhere she could eat the food and drink the water.  
“It doesn’t come out above an ocean, does it?”
“THERE ARE NO BOXES IN THE OCEAN.  THE BOX GHOST HAS NO USE FOR IT.”
“What about crab pots?” asked Jazz.
“THE BOX GHOST DOES NOT INTERFERE WITH THE COUNCILS OF CRABS.”
Jazz… wasn’t going to examine that too closely.  She braced herself and flew into the portal.  The transition this time wasn’t the smooth, blink-and-you’re-in-another-dimension it had been with her parents’ weapon.  It had turbulence, and lots of it.  It was like being in a washing machine.  Or a blender.  A really fast blender.  One that pulsed and shook and sang a song while it was at it.  
It spit her out ten feet above ground.  It wouldn’t have been a problem for a ghost, but for a human…  Well, at least she didn’t break any bones.  Instead, she laid, winded, on the ground.  Tall grass framed her vision on all sides.  The sun was hot overhead.  Which was… less than ideal.  It had been Autumn this morning.  However long from now that was.  
Jazz rubbed her temples.  All she had to do was send a message, satisfy Danny’s no-paradox rule, and then she’d be home.  Until then, she would survive.  She refused to saddle Danny with the guilt associated with her disappearing.  
She got up.  Looked around.  There was a dirt road.  She staggered over to it and flipped a coin to decide whether to go left or right.  Left it was.  
She grew steadier as she walked, but the heat was punishing.  She took off her sweater and was tempted to take her shirt off, too.  She was wearing a sports bra underneath.  It wasn’t like it’d be indecent.  
Unless she’d been dropped into the eighteen hundreds.  Best not to risk it.  
The dirt road became gravel, became poorly-paved asphalt, merged onto another, bigger road… A road with a recognizable name.  Jazz wasn’t that far away from Amity Park.  She could probably even call… home…
“I’m stupid,” she said out loud.  She pulled out her phone.  No service.  Typical.  She kept walking.  And walking.  And walking.  
And then she saw the smoke.  Right where Amity Park should be.  She ran, then.  
She crested the hill, passed the Welcome to Amity Park sign - something was off about it, but she didn’t stop to try and see what it was.  She hit the top of the next hill and stopped.  
That– That wasn’t Amity Park.  At least, it wasn’t her Amity Park.  The buildings were bigger.  Shinier.  Whiter, even.  The logo for the GIW sat proudly on one of the tallest ones.
And so many of them were smashed.  Burning.  Green blurs swirled and fought with white ones.  She sat down.
“And what if I wind up in the future instead?”
“I don't know, hope the rest of us don't cause the apocalypse before you get back?”
There was one more explosion, and then a high-pitched wail, a ghostly wail, threw all of the shapes back and away.  The white ones didn’t come back.  
Jazz… wasn’t sure what to do.  She watched.  She waited.  
And then a familiar shape appeared out of the air in front of her.  It was Danny, but… not.  He was thinner.  Sharper.  There was silver and ice in his hair, and blood and ectoplasm on his face.  “Hi, Jazz,” he said, smiling sheepishly despite the dark gleam in his eyes.  “Well… it isn’t the apocalypse, so…”  He spread his hands to either side, and the GIW building behind him fell over.  “Welcome home?”
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boughkeeping · 3 months
Text
SOUR until SUGAR ☆
Suna rintarou x fem! reader
Fluff (⁠◡⁠ ⁠ω⁠ ⁠◡⁠).
For Minnie <3
You moved on, you really thought you did but seeing him happy with somebody else while you were still where you are now triggered something within you, well someone wishes to change that... A regular customer maybe?
/ Pls lemme know the artists @!
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"Good morning" your coworker greeted you
"morning" you replied with a smile, for some reason today you felt like everything would go well.
You were in charge of taking orders today.
"Excuse me-" A familiar voice called out to you.
It was your ex, you were stunned you didn't know what to do unless he snapped you out of it again "Two strawberry shortcake, One latte and one Watermelons soda please." He only said that and returned to a table. With a girl.
Maybe your gut feeling that things would go right today wasn't correct after all.
"he didn't even say a hi... Of course why would he hah"
You wrote the order immediately down in a sticky note, you stole a glance at them before giving it to your coworker.
She was pretty, she really was. You felt she was even prettier than you taller than you and probably smarter than you too who knows.
You sighed and opened your phone to text your friend.
[You]
You won't believe ts,
I'm at work and for
some reason my ex who was in kyoto
Is in Tokyo's café where i work
Fml
[Friend]
WHAG
the odds are less but ever zero huh
GOOD LUCK
don't sweat it you guys ended it on
good terms isn't it?
Nth to worry abt
[You]
He's here with a girl :)
Probably new gf :))))
[Friend]
Oh....
Rip soldier ..
You closed your phone and almost went for a washroom break to bang your head on the wall but then the regular customer for 2 months walked in.
He approached the counter, "The regular?" You asked. He scratched his neck "Actually I have yet to decide" you handed him one of the sticky notes "After you decide you can write it here and bring it to me okay?"
40 seconds later he handed you the note.
Iced lemon soda
Blueberry cheesecake
You chuckled as you read it "he was going to write iced lemon soda anyway huh" then you saw there was an extremely scribbled line at the bottom you squinted your eyes but still couldn't read it.
That night you went home and devoured a whole box of ice cream watching comedy shows hoping it'll make you feel better.
The next day after school it started raining, it seems that the weather has been matching your mood lately and your bad luck has been consistent too, you held out a hand feeling the raindrops contemplating if you should wait till it stops or just run through it so you don't get late for work.
You sighed, you didn't want to get scolded by your manager again so you decided you'll just make a run for it, by running you'll reach there in 6 minutes of course it came with the risk of falling down and embarrassing yourself but you'd prefer that over getting scolded anyday.
Just as you put one foot into the slightly muddy ground something covered you from the above, a grey umbrella you turned your head to see it was the regular customer. "...what" it just came out of your mouth automatically. "Hm? Never seen me before?" He questioned, well you really didn't you entered this school only 4 months ago. "You go around here?" You asked. He smirked "That sounds like you're hittin' on me"
You raised your hand and waved it "huh no really.. I didn't know you studied here too.."
He just looked at the sky and then back at you "Well in any case we're heading the same way aren't we?"
"...to the café?" You asked. Just to be sure.
"Walking with me would be better than getting wet isn't it?"
Months passed and autumn arrived.
Of course you were working and he came again.
You walked to his table and folded your arms
"we're about to close"
"make some time for me yeah?" He put his one leg above the other.
Two people entered after him, it was your ex and that girl again.
You were less bothered by it this time because someone you knew was there. You tapped your feet "hurry I've gotta take orders of other people too y'know?"
He rested his chin on his hand "Actually I haven't decided yet"
You sighed and handed him a sticky note "you know what to do"
Before walking away you told him "It's my last day working here today by the way"
He hummed "My order today needs to be even more special then I guess"
After a minute he handed you the note.
Since you were already slightly annoyed and nervous from your ex and his girlfriend or whatever being there. You just handed the note to your co- worker who is also the manager without reading it. 4 seconds later she taps on your soldier "what is this..." You read it.
1 lemon iced soda
1 Jasmine milk tea
1 chocolate fudge
1 taro lava cake
1 chicken delight pizza
2 half cheese half sausage corn dogs and,
For the pretty cashier to share this with me
Custom order : her heart ♡
It was full of your favourite snacks from the café and most importantly what the hell was the last note, you immediately turned your face towards the opposite wall trying to hide your red face. Your manager sighed and put her hands on your shoulder. "Listen just go for it okay, you can take a leave today I won't reduce it from your paycheck"
"what????" You looked back at your manager, before you could say anything else she just pushed you "now off you go"
You pulled a seat in front of Suna and just sat there. "Why did you order so much? No way I can finish that" he leaned into the table now both his hands supporting his face. "I'll finish it for you then" you chuckled "like a trash panda?" He scoffed "yes. Like a trash panda."
Your gaze moved behind him, where your ex and his new girl were sitting Suna noticed that and his frown deepened he poked your cheek to face you towards him "How insulting, looking at others when I'm before you"
"I'm not..." You were about to pick your phone that was on the table to distract yourself but he pulled your phone back to him, you couldn't help but shamelessly notice his pretty hands "I'll repeat again, how can you focus on other things when I'm right here?"
Well let's say maybe you were gonna be getting a new boyfriend.
Everything felt sour until he added sugar.
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toskarin · 13 days
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hey rin, a friend of mine enjoys composing music digitally and has a lot of respect for you as someone with more experience with that sort of thing. he has a hard time convincing the people around him to listen to the things he makes, in both the "finding an audience" way and "getting the people around him to give him their opinion on something he's working on way," and he wanted me to ask you if you could speak on your own experiences with those problems and how you've dealt with them. less related, he was also curious about your inspirations for the music that you make. i know this is a lot to cover, so if it would be easier for you to speak with him directly then please let me know
so I'll open by saying that, as far as people who can give good advice on this go, I'm probably not one of those. a lot of what I do only works because of some specific problems with my brain that are oddly adaptive to this sort of thing
that being said, this is a bit of the "tough love" kind of advice for surviving as an artist, so I'll make a second reblog for the second half of the question
this is either advice that will work or a ramble that will lead your friend to making his life unbearable, so look before you leap
-
The Easy Section, or "You've Gotta Be a Bit of a Tradie"
let's go over the business stuff quickly before I start rambling at length about the boring stuff
learn to love the work itself. "find a job you enjoy and you'll never work a day in your life" is garbage, but creative work really is the one area where you should double down on this. kick back and bump your own album on release day, thinking about how every second of it is something that didn't exist before you put it together. this is what's gonna keep you above water when the wind is dead
get on bandcamp. there is nowhere better for small musicians right now. bandcamp is basically the last remaining website with an effective suggestion algorithm that caters to people who want to actively engage with music and buy it
consider getting on instagram. in the majority of places you're likely to live if you're reading this, the local music scene is on instagram. probably don't use your personal instagram for this
consider getting on soundcloud. you won't make sales through soundcloud, because it's a streaming-focused site (more on that in a moment) with a focus on passive listening, but it's pretty decent for networking, especially with digital music production. soundcloud is linkedin for deadbeats
stay off spotify. streaming generally isn't worth the trouble these days unless you're playing concerts or are otherwise already established. if you aren't uttering the words "you can find me on..." more than once a month, it's probably not worth pursuing a spotify presence to end that sentence with
self-promote. if you have platforms, use them. find the subreddit for your genre and post yourself on the self-promo day. consider posting some bandcamp album codes when you do this, not just so you can get word of mouth, but because someone having an album in their collection means you effectively have a permanent zero-cost advertisement for your music which will only show itself to people who are verifiably looking at something similar. companies pay dizzying sums for ads that couldn't dream of being this targetted. this is a big reason why bandcamp is THE place to be for small musicians
cross-promote and collab. work with your friends. if you don't have musician friends, go make some and then help each other out. "independent" music is a misnomer
blind yourself to the metrics. do not look at engagement metrics. pay them no mind at all. don't look at them unless you're trying to see how effective a specific, deliberate course of action was and already know what you want to find
remember that strangers are unknowable. people do things for arbitrary reasons. if you don't have someone giving you written feedback, don't make any assumptions at all about why they did something. skipped tracks and minimum-price pwyws mean nothing at all
present your stuff in a way that gives it context. why should someone care about your stuff? give them a reason. carve out an hour to really work on a nice album cover, go the extra mile and include track-by-track narrative with your dungeon synth album, or just describe what you're expecting people to buy. I firmly believe that NOMAD/VIRTUE was successful in large part because of its presentation
gimmick. gimmick gimmick gimmick. discount codes are more fun than automatic discounts, free album codes are more fun than free albums, contests are more fun than giveaways, so on so forth. lacking any physical goodies to bundle in, you should still endeavour to give people Something To Do that makes them feel like they're really engaging with your music
zero expectations, zero overhead. do not rely on the whims of complete strangers to justify whether or not you end up in the red. if you ever find yourself saying something like "I can afford to pay for a session musician because I'll just make it back" you can't afford to pay for a session musician. you're probably never getting bailed out if you eat a loss, so try not to put yourself in a situation where you can eat a loss to begin with
someone else's expectations, someone else's overhead. if someone else is paying you to make this music for a soundtrack or something, if (and ONLY if) you have the money in your hand and know you have it, you're no longer gambling. at this point, you can start to look at expenses as investment
now onto the less fun stuff. here's where I ramble for like an hour at you.
-
if there's one thing I've really had hammered in over my decade-odd as a somewhat commercial artist (in all the disciplines I've worked with, which is most of them), it's that you have to be a bit of a bitch about it sometimes
that nagging fear in the back of your head that you're annoying? it's stopping you from doing what you need to do: annoy people
with that being said, this next section is kind of...
The Rough Section, or "You've Gotta Be a Little Hard-headed"
at the end of the day, you'll often find that you are your only advocate, and that means you kinda have to get your foot slammed in a few doors if that means holding them open. this also unfortunately means that you've gotta convince yourself you're pretty good. you don't have to think you're great, but confidence is a trade skill
the last opinion people see before the first time consciously engaging with your work (which here means "the thing that primes them for how they feel about it") is yours
which brings us to the first uncomfy rule
absolutely no cutting yourself down before anyone else even gets a swing
you can be modest if you want (you don't have to), but you absolutely cannot prime people to see the flaws in your work. if 50% of people are discerning enough to notice a flaw, why make that number 100%? what do you gain from that?
if something isn't as finished as you'd have liked it to be, but you've pushed it out the door anyway (which you will sometimes have to do), you absolutely cannot prime people to consider it unfinished
if the thing is still being worked on, there's nothing wrong with being forthcoming about that, but the fastest way to make someone think of something as "inferior product" when they otherwise would never have reached that conclusion is by telling them it is
and that, of course, leads us into a bit of an inversion of the previous rule
absolutely do not take the majority of your validation from strangers
doing this is bad for a million reasons, but I see the worst of this in visual arts, where artists double down on what gets them the most engagements and lay themselves at the mercy of complete strangers who have no actual investment in them
of course, it's normal to desire validation and approval from people you respect, but if you put yourself in a position where it's possible to enter a negative feedback loop that crystallises into you no longer making art from the default response of neutral apathy from strangers, it's not a matter of when: it's going to happen to you one day
so what's the move here? spend 8 years making music you don't release like you're in a compressed time chamber? probably not. I did it that way, but I didn't get much out of it, so you probably won't either
the actual answer is that you've gotta network. you need an inner circle. you need people with shared interests so that you can gas each other's stuff up
just like everyone else, you need your friends
you need to have friends who care about you, about what you're doing, and you need to care about them and what they're doing
this is because, while self-confidence is important...
the majority of your external validation as an artist should come from your friends and peers, not strangers
it's important to have artist friends, because then you can encourage each other in ways that are personally meaningful, but having your friends behind you, whether or not they're musicians, is so incredibly important
if you're motivated exclusively by success, however you're choosing to measure that, what you're actually doing is forming a nightmarish parasocial relationship with the concept of a crowd. not even a real crowd! a fictional group that materialises when you've created "the conditions for success"
there is no such thing as a truly independent artist. if your understanding of artistic success requires competition against others, you're going to lose that competition and then explode (unfortunately common)
finding your audience as an artist (and mind you, art is a social field) is very much a process of networking, but it feels gross to say it that way, so I'll just leave that at "if you want to be known by others, you need to be willing to know others"
anyway, this doesn't really terminate in a complete sentiment. I was just transcribing a train of though
if I were to boil this down to a shorter, snappier answer that I could read comfortably read out, it'd be...
TL;DR
the process of finding an audience is so much less about actually finding one than it is about learning to create happily whether or not you have an audience. developing an audience is the largely incidental byproduct of long-term creative efforts coupled with self-advocacy and interpersonal networking
if you want to be found by a scene, you have to participate in a scene, and if you want to participate in a scene, you need to be in the scene. so on so forth
as stupid as it might sound when I put it into words, the truth is that you can't build any kind of audience in isolation. someone has to find you somehow, and it's a lot easier to be found if you're actually somewhere that people might look
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