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acaunite · 1 year

Text

how we met?

we met at 5.53 pm. you and I found each other in the blue hour sky

you will not believe this pathological disease I met in such a chronicle event leads me toward you

i met you when my individual sense of identity goes worsening day by day, trying to adjust my psychological issue every day. trying to fit in this world without anyone around me (as my intrusive thought told me)

Imagining you are in my life taking part in it, sharing the same burden, wound, unfinished business, or the same childhood memories that I couldn't rewind. been hallucinating this scenario several times

and did you know how cruel my brain works when it comes to cope some affection, deny it? trying to give a harsh logical reason to leave it alone. yes, my affection to you.

ini lebih parah dari yang kamu bayangkan, aku kira aku cuma butuh sesuatu buat attachment or "oh i have so much love to share so I run into you"

NO.

dari yang paling mula entertainment-social reason, intense personal and the worst thing is borderline pathological

collecting your trivia, watching your stream, keeping up about your information day by day, it's not enough for me

the feeling keeps growing. it's like feeding your intense and compulsive obsession to you. OMG, I FIND HIM. God, I'm tired fucking with men I want him. yes I know it's worsening right

then the last couple of days, I write your name as some fictional character in my love storyline

me as Sagara Ananjani the sea child born from dad of the sea and mother earth Rinjani Mountain and you are the male lead.

how sweet it was until I know I put myself on the edge of the abyss of pathological borderline disorder

the strongest level of parasocial relationship ADDICTION JENG JENG HAHAHAHA

aku sampai over-identified you as my future partner njeng, can you imagine it? no? of course it's sick. i know, but it's so tempting to set your ideal character like my preference using shallow trivias around

intinya gua mikir why it's so easy to fall for you? is it cause you are such good communicator? extrovert coversationalist? hardworking? nice sense of humor? you smart? cz you are good in everything you do like singing, dancing, gaming even our height is the SAME! you good with girls? then you said boys and girls like you?

or you make them cry in your high school era because it's you who broke their heart?

yes men yang GUA PENGEN yang anjengg gua pengen jadi elu! bro kenapa bisa perfect banget bro, gua parasocial level sirik ke eluuu sampe mikir, ANJIIIIIR GUA KESEL sama diri sendiri. like wtf did you do to me?

I HATE YOU for making me hate myself

like who are you make me this miserable absurd unexplainable feeling? how dare you

or is it just my borderline personality disorder take over this mind and soul

they said my paraso caused by attachment difficulties in early childhood, an insecure-resistant attachment style.

insecure- resistant attachment is an exaggerated expression of attachment needs. pokoknya kayak harus ada caregiver disekitar anak ini memiliki kecenderungan ragu dan susah meng explor lingkuangan sekitarnya dan suka dengan perhatian dari pengasuh atau caregiver nya

ini pernah kejadian nih pas gua TK. anjir. karakteristiknya kek anak kecil yang ngasih sinyal kalau dia juga susah mendapatkan kenyamanan dari pengasuhnya. biasanya nakanak yang punya attachment observed in strange situation emang punya insecurity dan anxious ambivalent clingy sama sosok ibuk tapi mereka ga percaya sepenuhnya sama ibunya.

saat kita beranjak dewasa kita punya juga attachment yang kek gini tapi dibagi menjadi 3

proximity seeking

secure base

protest at disruption

ok lemme tell you about this individual attempt to reduce the distance between themselves and their attachment figure kek stay on YOUR PERFORMANCE schedule nyet, gua nyalain notif ama tweets elu, your live streaming, your fuckin schedule tp gua ga keeping up sama orang-orang terdekat gua karena gua menepis kedekatan yang harusnya gua jalin secara natural sama orang2 yang gua sayang. karena apa? karena gua takut ketergantungan gua jadi sama mereka. iya gua jadiin jadwal elu pelarian yang seharusnya gaperlu

you unconsciously provide me your safe haven. your fana safe place ahahaha iye, you offered a contemporary sense of security for individuals, allowed me to explore your tiny-trivia-cute-chaotic-majestic world without judgment. you should not reject me at the first chance. you shouldn't do that.

ditambahkan gue punya ketakutan buat ditolak yee, ku pikir it's the safest way for me to know your world better, it think I can adjust this world with you by myside 'ceunah mah kitu' pikir ku, with our imaginary relationship as much as I want you to be my boyfriend. like bubble 85K every month kpop fandom, I'll pay you for it.

i think it should be fun and FINE. we used to have relationshit in this situationship yk what I mean, and yk what to do!

ok ini konteks nya anak ngamuk2 karena nyari penyakit

im seeking this from you, the encouragement to have a relationship with you cz I'm not emotionally available with anyone, yes I know because my psychological adjustment is so poor.

but then I realize it's not your fault when my psychological condition is so poor and it's my own responsibility

i want to claim your support so bad so it can be my strength, dengan interaction kamu, orang sekitar mu, picture yourself as cool talented chaos guy

i hate it

you know then it makes me realize it too soon, too early. loving you is such a sickness madness that I choose. more madness to cover up my current condition

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porshaxnu · 2 years

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I don’t know where to start with my healing journey which is so weird bc i have done this many times.

I’ve had to start over so many times. Go thru the same shit so many times.

Idk if im scared to be in a relationship or if im overthinking it. I’m so used to being single and celibate. I’m not stimulated.. especially with the whole long-distance thing.

I know long distance aint even my thing fr, so idk why I agree’d to doing this knowing I’ll get distant & uninterested again. I guess I just didn’t want to be alone and feel like I have someone.

I don’t like to feel like I need someone, because honestly I don’t. The times where I’ve been so in love with myself and everything that I do was one of my best memories. I want to get back to that girl.

I’m getting distant again, i don’t like that shit and it’s all because of the long distance. I just know it is. I thought this time around I could be more mature in handling these feelings that I have but I’m not.

The feelings that I have are numbness… i feel the love and see it but I don’t think im open to recieve it because of how blocked off I am. Nobody can break down that wall but me. I’m a virgo, that’s just how it be.

Long distance aint never been my thing frfr, ive just always wanted a partner. I was so desperate. I’m so lost. I don’t want to leave him though. I want to stay. I want to stick it thru and see if this is forreal. We haven’t really even spent so much time together so I want to explore that. It’s just so hard still being interested when you don’t have time/money to hang out from different states.

And secks?? I don’t like even having secks… it’s really not that deep to me. Never has been. It just gotta be in the moment & sometimes that moment aint even there bc im numb and i miss it. I know im numb. I don’t feel shit. No matter wtf anyone does, i’m still gonna feel numb. Omg

Lemme go talk to my therapist again. I always seem to go back (:

0 notes

sheraphic · 3 years

Note

hiii could you do one of these instagram things with eve.frsn and harry, i just love her style xoxo ♥️♥️♥️

𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝

◃────────────────────────────────▹

author's note; hi there anon, sorry for the waiting but here it is your request, hope you like it.

warnings; there can be a few mistakes with the grammar.

「 REQUESTS ARE OPEN 」

It would be wonderful If you ~reblog it~ that help me a lot, it inspire me for write more.

// masterlist //

◃────────────────────────────────▹

Liked by nickjonas, barbarapalvin and 3,633,820 others

yourinstagram walked all day and couldn't find the rainbow

View all 32,712 comments

harrystyles I'm looking at one right now

⤅ynfan992 he calls her rainbow ��

⤅harryfan672 who gave you the right to be the most perfect boyfriend in the world?

⤅harryfan888 @harryfan672 only on this world?

⤅harryfan672 @harryfan888 you're right, let me correct it; the most perfect boyfriend in the whole universe

barbarapalvin love how you guys match in a heavenly way

yndaily I'm not gonna say who took this picture bc y'all know it already

⤅yourinstagram a stranger

⤅harryfan623 @yourintagram omg hahaha poor harry

⤅ynfan018 @yourintagram like, who's harry?

harryfan540 but- her eyes... so damn beautiful

stinegoyastudio lovely lady

yourbffinstagram saw it from my window 🌈

harryfan092 PROOFS!

⤅ynfan176 @harryfan092 what do you mean?

⤅harryfan092 @ynfan176 that they walk all around the city and no one saw them

⤅ynfan176 @harryfan092 uhm?? it's not like every single person in the city gonna be looking for them... You know, everyone have their own bussines

⤅harryfan800 @ynfan176 exactly! Why someone have to confirm that they were walking?

⤅harryfan092 @harryfan800 bc then it's not real

⤅ynfan176 @harryfan092 omg... Get outta here

lookitsnyoh i'm the blurry spot behind you

ynfan388 everyday passed by without being blessed to be beside you

ynfan729 ok but I want the beanie and the scarf

Liked by yourinstagram, gemmastyles and 8,629,820 others

harrystyles In the middle of a rainy june

View all 52,913 comments

yourinstagram all that green and your eyes are still my favorites

⤅harrystyles @yourinstagram I'm blushing. On my way to... Where am I going?

⤅harryandyn guys stop, i can't cry all day

⤅yndaily she's a poet and he's her inspiration

⤅harryupdates @harrystyles love, i think you got a little bit flustered

⤅harryfan723 i want what they have!

harryfan811 when it will be my turn?

kaiagerber can she be my photographer?

harryfan402 everybody, say thank you to yn for took this picture of a lovely man

⤅harryfan331 @harryfan402 just imagining that he posed for it 🥺

alessandro_michele what a cutie

harryfan101 can- can i be god's favourite for once?

cazoff model material, naturally

adamprendergast_ what a pretty boy smiling at the void

⤅harryfan699 now i now that adam is the annoying friend of the gruop

emiozmen @harryfan699 don't even doubt it

harryking may a offer you an umbrella, my lord?

⤅harrynews one fan said he had an umbrella, but he just doesn't use it

⤅harryfan782 let the boy get wet

⤅harryfan226 @harryfan782 YOU DIDN'T

⤅ynfan335 @harryfan782 this is my favorite comment ever

troyesivan my life is brighter now

⤅harryfan602 @troyesivan we need a collab

⤅columbiarecords indeed

⤅harryfan602 @columbiarecords wait wtf

Liked by gemmastyles, emmalouisecorrin and 5,290,214 others

yourinstagram contrast 🔹🔻

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florencepugh = 💜

⤅yourinstagram :)

harryfan222 omg i get it now

ynfan889 this is so adorable

yoursisterinstagram this is a lot of chaotic energy for my board

yndaily we love their eclectic little world

zendaya big fan of your hair

ynfan022 how can i not love this two weirdos?

harrystyles you said crazy pose, not dramatic

⤅yourinstagram @harrystyles your smile it's crazy delightful

⤅harryfan700 @yourinstagram can i be you girlfriend too?

⤅harryfan191 @harryfan700 same, i fell in love because she knows exactly what she's doing

⤅ynfan748 this man won the best woman ever

harryandyn god, i see what you do for others

charlotteanneclark a mood

harryfan882 i really love that he feels so comfortable with her and their relationship to let us see this.

⤅harryfan525 @harryfan882 ikr he finallt let us see this side of him and I'm an emotional mess

⤅harryfan106 @harryfan882 i think we finally understand that he has a life and can love whoever he chooses

rosalia.vt happy but confused at the same time

harryfan441 ugh, they are so foolishly in love

t_chalament it's a yes from me

⤅harryfan722 timothee represents me

ynfan831 she matches his personality so perfectly

annetwist lovely pics!

⤅ynfan029 she loves her 🤍

Liked by dualipa, harry_lambert and 8,190,644 others

harrystyles The route was traced, the playlist was ready; and even like that we get lost.

View all 76,882 comments

yourinstagram told you to give the map and you said no

⤅harrystyles @yourinstagram I wanted it to be a surprise!

⤅harrynews i can't bear too much cuteness

⤅ynfan551 these two are the only couple that made me belive that true love exists

⤅yndaily ow, an older couple having a disagreement🥺

⤅ynfan670 @yndaily i have high hopes for them getting married

mitchrowland I explained to you three times how the gps works...

⤅harryandyn harry and technology doesn't mix well

harryfan661 @mitchrowland he's a baby, you know?

⤅ynfan771 I'm from the future, and i came here to tell everyone that mitch doesn't know how a gps works either

⤅harryfan880 @yourfan771 I CAN'T WITH HITCH

pillowpersonpp oh, to get lost with great music in the background because your boyfriend it's too stubborn yo let you be the guide... Yes, it happened to me too

⤅yourinstagram @pillowpersonpp i hope god receives us both in paradise for having dealt with these men

⤅harryfan720 stoooooop mitch and harry twins

⤅ynfan182 @yourinstagram you're just a genius with your comments! 🖤

⤅harryfan788 @mitchrowland you gf exposed you, what are you gonna do about it?

⤅lookitsnyoh @harryfan788 the best thing he can do it's to bake some bread for her

helenepambrun so that pic was while you guys stop for indications or...?

⤅harryfan693 HELPPPPPPP

harryfan this it's so harry you can't tell me otherwise

harryfan ok but her dress, the vintage car and the vibe of being lost with your lover-💗 ugh, please leave alone with my singleness

mrbenwinston "the route was traced"

⤅harrystyles It was.

⤅harryfan837 HAHAHAHAHA STOP

⤅harryfan681 all his friends are roasting him lol

⤅harryfan716 he's upset, someone quick give him a lollipop!

⤅ynfan682 i really love this side of his fans

⤅harryfan346 @ynfan682 it has to be this way, otherwise he'll throw a tantrum

zanelowe harry mate, you better start listen to your girl

harryfan380 i'm laughing more than i should, sorry for them, but this it's golden comedy

Liked by harrystyles, jefeazoff and 3,190,644 others

yourinstagram excuse the sunburn

View all 38,672 comments

harrystyles sorry, didn't know the lipstick would be waterproof

⤅harryfan806 did he just say that he kissed her cheeks while wearing lipstick?!

⤅traceeellisross @yourinstagram your boyfriend burned you sweetie haha

⤅harryfan992 i need the name of that lipstick, no matter if i have to give all my money

⤅harryandyn I can't, i just can't stop thinking about harry pecking kisses all over her face

⤅yndaily @harryandyn just thinking how funny It was the moment she realized that the kiss prints couldn't be wiped away and give harry a look like 😠

⤅harryfan714 @yndaily shut uppp! And he just giggling like the fckin demon that he is

harry_lambert ok guys you need to stop because i can't spend the whole day liking all your comments...

⤅harryfan782 then tell them to not be this iconic 🤧

dovecameron it's like seeing an angel in her own heaven

ynfan602 this queen and her eyes are the only reason i'm still alive

reiflerpaige you and italy are old lovers

harryfan503 i love that her hair it's the exact same color as her eyes! It's insanely accurate!

harryupdates you dind't hear this from me, but someone said that harry made that neacklace for her

⤅ynfan101 please don't do this me, i don't have enough tears to express how happy that makes me

⤅harryfan559 I KNEW IT!

⤅harryfan883 @harrystyles do you ship internationally? I would like to order one piece, pretty please 🤍

Liked by arianagrande, annetwist and 7,380,721 others

harrystyles Malva thoughts.

View all 82,110 comments

gemmastyles I'll never share my favorite color with you again.

⤅harryfan733 this is so funny

⤅harryfan892 yep, that's something aquarius would do

⤅harryfan019 @harryfan892 no proof but i have zero doubts

yourinstagram Isn't that my white tablecloth you're painting on?

⤅ynfan129 someone is in trouble

⤅harryfan899 no in a white tablecloth harry!

⤅harryfan782 i can see a storm coming

⤅harryfan673 @harrystyles hey lad, i think they looking for you

⤅harryfan018 @harrystyles that's it, you'll sleeping on the bathtub tonight

zoeisabellakravitz Try periwinkle.

⤅harrystyles It's already in my notes

⤅harryfan820 most iconic interaction

anthonyturnerhair need to know where i can get those flower pots

⤅harryfan675 omg me too!

⤅harryfan772 i bet he has really cool items all around his place

⤅harryfan099 @harryfan772 i bet he was an interior designer on his past life

⤅ynfan681 @harryfan772 those are yn's flowerpots actually and you can find them on amazon! 🤎

⤅harryfan772 @ynfan681 wait, really?? They're sooo cool omg

⤅harryfan388 @ynfan681 so that means they're living together?!

mollyjane_x Prodigy

⤅harryfan819 he can sit on a rock and we'll say he's a fucking legend

⤅harryfan912 where's the lie?

claraamfo music, reading, painting... Leave some for the rest of us, the mortals.

⤅harryfan891 right? It's like, why he has to be so good at everything?

⤅ynfan723 And he's also @yourinstagram broyfriend 😩

⤅claraamfo @ynfan723 that's what hurt the most

sammywitte I never knew you knew how to paint.

⤅jefeazoff leave the kid explore.

⤅harryfan662 hahahaha i can't with jeff's comment

⤅harryfan982 @harryfan662 it's like they just comment to roasting him

⤅harryfan222 @harryfan982 and we are loving it!

⤅harryfan116 true friendship it's this

flammedepigelle inspired.

⤅harryfan671 oh, well...

⤅harryfan927 now e news it's going to write a ridiculous post about a love triangle between yn, harry and sharon

⤅ynfan813 @harryfab927 don't give them ideas! 🤫

⤅harryfan927 @ynfan814 omg you're right, I'm gonna delete it!

jennynails delivery will be this wednesday!

⤅harryfan712 harry's nails will be malva?

⤅harryfan991 omg that's so cute

Liked by tchalamet, zendaya and 4,375,092 others

yourinstagram I'm Malva.

View all 42,713 comments

harrystyles In fact, you're the whole palette, my darling

⤅yourinstagram 🤍

⤅harryandyn he loves his little rainbow

⤅harryfan881 yep, that's my heart full of happiness to see him be so in love with her

⤅harryfan092 she is perfect for him. I mean it.

⤅harryfan330 she will take him to the moon for us.

⤅harryfan445 @harryfan330 and all we can say is thank you to the wonderful yn.

⤅harryfan672 @harryfan330 you should stop with that because it's ridiculous... She already took him to the whole milky way 🌌

⤅ynfan168 @harryfan672 omg i thought you were about to say something nasty about their relationship

⤅harryupdates @harryfan672 we thought that too, we were ready to reply back

⤅harryfan610 @harryupdates to fight back*

⤅harryfan777 @harryfan672 your comment was genious

⤅harryfan672 @harryupdates omg, didn't expect my comment will attract so much attention.

⤅harryfan672 @ynfan168 the only nasty thing i could say about their relationship it's that i'm deeply jealous

yndaily yeah yeah, so cute. When is the wedding?

massimobottura Undeniable expression of love.

⤅ynfan220 now i picturing them eating massimo bottura's delicious food... leave me alone please

⤅harryfan688 @ynfan220 this warms my heart

selenagomez Oh, he draw you ❤️

⤅harrystyles He indeed did it

⤅harryfan672 I can't with this man referring to himself in the third person

⤅harryfan339 @harryfan672 he's a weirdo

⤅harryfan980 thank god it's yn's problem now

⤅harryfan100 we finally can have some peace

⤅ynfan764 good luck honey @yourinstagram

⤅harryandyn this comment section it's gold

glenne_azoff now is when you decided to post in b&w?

⤅yourinstagram aesthetic

⤅harryfan771 I'm laughing more than i want heeelp

⤅harryfan821 @yourinstagram idol

annetwist I will need a copy of it

⤅harryfan111 guys I'm crying and it's just 8am

⤅harryfan337 if queen anne loves her, y'all need to do it as well. No excuses

⤅ynfan008 @harryfab337 has been decreed

harleyweir Didn't know i needed to see this, but I'm happy

charlotteanneclark You two put my expectations so high

⤅harryfan723 someone finally say it

⤅ynfan092 now i need a harry to my yn

spaceykacey lovers in their little birdhouse

tylersamj I see a stubble :)

⤅mitchrowland don't give him hopes, @tylersamj

⤅jefeazoff don't crash his hopes, @mitchrowland

⤅gemmastyles stop defending him, @jefeazoff

⤅harrystyles I want to grow a lumberjack beard :)

⤅yourinstagram we already talked about this, Harry.

– comments have been limited –

#harry styles blurb #harry styles fake ig #harry styles fake instagram #harry styles fake social media #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #my wtiting

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undermattsun-archive · 4 years

Text

mouth

(skate rat) kunimi x reader | word count: 1.8k

a/n: i said i was writing a drabble, a simple short slice,, wtf happened?? anyway ty @bakatenshii for putting up w my spam about this <3

18+ university age | pls read all warnings

warnings: drug use (weed), bad words, bad (slightly toxic) behavior, toxic relationships, a bit of blood

now with its sequels taste + savor

Oikawa’s parties were never really your scene, considering the amount of greasy touch-starved skaters that were crawling around and all the bad decisions you’ve made with them in the past, you really should’ve tried your best to avoid any function thrown by him. But the promise of some mindless fun after a grueling week of finals made it worth swinging by, even for an hour or so.

You’re seated on the arm of the beat-up old couch near the front door, giving you the perfect seat to watch various people of differing sobriety fall in and out of the party.

Just as the desperate scene of Matsukawa coming on to the fourth girl of the night unfolds before you, there’s the familiar burn of eyes boring into you, acutely aware of who it might be.

For a moment you wonder if standing your ground would be better, thwarted by your own body moving without a second thought and making a desperate attempt to avoid simple eye contact, you sacrifice your perch, hoping to find someone that you didn’t have a complicated history with.

“Trying to run?” Cool fingers wrap around your wrist, forcing a groan to escape your lips. It was a mystery how someone who was high most of the time and never wanted to expend any energy could move that quickly across a room.

“Running implies I’m scared, avoiding would be the better term,” you try to pull away from his grip, only to have him tighten his hold forcing you to turn and glare into his hooded eyes, “what do you want?”

“A hello maybe, not nice to ignore me.” He relents his hold and you roll your eyes, he looks deceptively good tonight. You can’t help but take in his appearance, grimacing when you notice he’s wearing the oversized black Champion hoodie you’d given him for his birthday, when you were still on semi-decent terms.

“Yeah about that, I only say hi to people who don’t fuck me over.” You try to move away from him but he quickly crowds into your space, focusing a calculating look on you.

“Fuck you over how?” His expression shifts, he’s giving you that look, the one he gives whenever he has you pinned against a surface and taking everything he wants from you.

The look he gives before you can’t help but surrender completely to him.

“Forget it, just leave me alone.” You try to look around him, trying to find a familiar face, someone you could cling onto to avoid this uncomfortable confrontation and your inevitable downfall right into his hands.

You shove at his chest and slip by him, deciding that leaving completely would be the best option, only to have hands grip at your waist and pull you back harshly. You land on the couch with a soft thump about to send another scathing comment his way when you notice him reaching behind the couch, pulling out a clear glass bong with a skull engraved on it.

The sight of it fills you with another wave of irritation and nostalgia, another present from you to him, another instance of you practically on your knees begging for his attention. You know this is your real cue to leave, that the second you start smoking with him you’ll truly be putty in his hands.

“Just one or two hits,” he hums, already sensing your hesitation, he pulls out a half empty plastic water bottle and a dime bag, “I'm sure you stressed yourself out this week.”

“Mm how considerate of you.” You shift slightly in your seat, positioning yourself better in case you decide to really escape this time.

“You look good.” It’s nonchalant and almost half-hearted but it still causes a slight tingle to run down your spine. You hate the way his feigned disinterest always has you wanting more, all the times he’s looked at you with rapt attention only to coat it with impassivity a moment later making you crave more and more of him. The imagery fills your head and makes your mouth dry. You push the thoughts away, you’re here to smoke some of his weed, and then leave nothing more.

“Don’t,” he looks up from his ministrations to raise a brow at you, “‘m not playing your games tonight.”

“Fine, you look like shit.'' He hands you the bong and you consider smashing it, but it’d only be a waste of your money and good weed.

“Lighter.” You touch the mouthpiece to your bottom lip and stare at him expectantly. He shakes his head and twirls the lighter in his fingers.

“Payment.” A smug look crosses his features and the temptation to throw the bong itches at your hands again.

“I hate you.” It’s under your breath and both of you know that despite how irritated you are with him, you don’t mean it in the slightest, you never do. You hook your finger onto the collar of his hoodie and tug him forward, slamming your lips together in a chaste kiss, the moment his lips part against yours has you pulling away.

“Hm? That was too short and sweet for you,” you snort at the comment and try to take the lighter from him, he shakes his head and turns the bong so the bowl is facing him, “you’re just gonna fuck it up and hurt yourself let me.”

“Whatever.” You fix your lips properly, holding eye contact with him as he lights the bowl, inhaling deeply, letting the smoke crawl down your throat and invade your lungs. He grins at you as he pulls the bowl from it, letting you clear it out.

You hold the smoke for a moment, and just as you’re about to blow it out, Kunimi snatches the bong from you and sets it down by the couch, surging forward and capturing your lips. His hand flies up and squeezes at your cheeks as he licks into your mouth, forcing your jaw to drop. His other arm curls around your waist, not bothering to put up a fight as he maneuvers you onto his lap.

Your hands press against him and you finally exhale slowly into his mouth, feeling his chest swell slowly beneath your palms. There’s a pause in his movements, leaving you to think he’ll pull away, only for him to continue his greedy exploration with his villainous tongue.

Though you’d never say it out loud, you’ve always been impressed by his lungs but the lack of oxygen begins to make your chest tighten and your head feel a little too light.

“Fuck wait.” You gasp, pulling away and resting your forehead against his. His hand drops from your face and slips under the hem of your shirt letting his fingers dance across the small of your back.

“For what?” He nips at your bottom lip, trying to get you to retaliate but you narrow your eyes at him.

“Apologize first.” You drive your index finger into his chest and he scoffs.

“I don't do that,” he leans forward and sinks his teeth into your neck, making you yelp out, you hiss as he pulls off and licks at the raw skin, “take me or leave me.”

“Fuckin’ asshole.” You tangle your fingers in his hair and yank harshly, pulling him into a kiss that’s more teeth and tongue than anything. You feel his fingers continue to massage your back while his other hand runs up and down your thigh.

If you aren’t going to get an apology, you figure there’s other ways to get a bit of retribution. You dig your teeth into his bottom lip, grinning against him when you feel the taste of iron spread across your tongue. his hand on your thigh squeezes tightly making you gasp, only allowing him to delve his tongue further into your mouth, acting as though he has a right to it.

“Bong.” He rasps as he pulls away from you, you take a moment to admire the crimson staining his lips. Reaching down you swipe up the bong, handing it to him and scooting back to avoid being burnt. Watching quietly as he fixes it against his mouth, lighting it and taking a long drag.

It was disgusting really, he always looked good like this, the only thing rivaling this expression was that faintly proud look he got in his eyes whenever he landed a trick. He pulls the bong away and holds it to the side, looking up at you and tilting his head.

“What?” You frown as you watch his eyes flicker to your mouth, his message loud and clear. with a sigh you inch forward, letting your lips part, you jump slightly when he surges forward to slot his mouth against yours. You inhale slowly as he exhales, reveling in the taste of the weed and his tongue moving across yours.

“You two sure know how to make it seem like you’re the only ones in the room,” you pull away once more, the two of you turning to look at Iwaizumi settling on the couch beside you, “just wanted to warn you that Mattsun is threatening to come join you two.”

“Tch like hell he is.” Kunimi pulls you closer against his body, only making you groan at the sudden wave of possessiveness.

“You’re not my boyfriend.” You really have no interest in letting Mattsun’s slimy fingers and dirty dick anywhere near you, but skipping out on the opportunity to piss Kunimi off, even just a little, would be a waste. you raise a brow as his head falls back against the couch, reddening eyes observing you lazily.

“You want me to be or something?” You ignore the snicker that falls from Iwaizumi beside you two and narrow your eyes at the man underneath you.

“So you can fuck off and forget i exist for another month again? Yeah right.” The flash of anger fades quickly when you start to feel the headiness that comes with your high swirl through you.

“I'll make it up to you,” the statement punctuated with both of his hands sliding further up your shirt, “mouth.”

“Kunimi.”

“Mouth.” you swipe your tongue over your lips before relenting, letting your jaw drop and your tongue loll out a bit. He swipes his tongue against yours before sucking it into his mouth. He lets out a low groan as you grind down against him and throw your arms around his neck desperately trying to deepen the kiss.

“Don’t fuck down here again, Oikawa’s room should still be open, he keeps striking out anyway.” You kick your leg blindly, satisfied when you feel your foot make contact and hearing Iwaizumi letting out a curse.

“Oikawa’s?” Kunimi mutters against your lip, and you hum in agreement, sliding off his lap and pulling him along with you.

“I better not be able to walk tomorrow or I’m never talking to you again.”

#hshsh fer fucks sake i hate it here #skate rat hq #miki writes #tw drugs #tw toxic behavior #tw blood #under.kunimi

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sweetaesuga · 4 years

Text

in your heart | his fridays

pairing: jungkook x female reader

genre: fluff, angst(?), established relationship, fratboy jk, ex-fuckboy jk, bookworm reader!

warnings: language, implied drinking, these two are crackheads basically

word count: 1.1k

synopsis: your fridays without jungkook.

timeline: takes place after the events of in your eyes.

↳ masterlist

a/n: my posts aren’t showing up under the tags :(((( so sorry for posting this many times. i tried linking a card of current issues going but it’ll hide this🥺

Something doesn't feel right.

It's surely the empty seat besides you where your boyfriend would usually reside but not today. He decided to go to a party his fraternity was throwing. He deemed you would hate him if he was to go to one ever since you started dating which is why he hadn't gone to one in so long. Jungkook even took you out for dinner.

The whole night consisted of him being sweet to you, way too sweet. Not a jokingly insult was hurled your way how you two normally act towards one another. He took the chance to ask you if he could attend the party.

The question struck you a bit. You didn't want him asking you permission to go somewhere, you never wanted to be that couple. You didn't want to eventually become the girlfriend who hogged all of his attention. You just wished he wouldn't bail out on you all the time like he used to. You assured him that he didn't have to ask you permission to go to such places yet he still felt awkward.

Jungkook💓: are u sure about this??

Jungkook💓: i can always not go u know

Jungkook💓: if ur not ok with it

sugar mama🥺: I'm fine with it!!!

sugar mama🥺: Go have fun just don't do anything stupid without me

Jungkook💓: ok i luv u

His response threw you off. You've only been dating for two months and none of you have ever told each other you love one another. You don't dwell too much on the topic, simply brushing it off as Jungkook just being excited and he didn't genuinely mean it.

You sat on your couch, searching through Hulu. You contemplated whether or not to watch Rick and Morty, the show you two watch together. Knowing your boyfriend, he would whine about you watching it without him. You exited and scrolled through Netflix. Your attention was divided, one on the movie you were watching and the other on Jungkook's text. In the end you selected a random movie, choosing to just have it as background noise to swallow the silence in the room that was normally filled with Jungkook and you.

You explored through your Instagram. Reloading your page again, your heart stopped. Taehyung had uploaded a picture. He was taking up most of the picture but Jungkook is still seen in the edge, grinning like an idiot with a bottle of beer in his hand. The others are a blur.

You felt guilty for going ease from the sight of no girl nearby. You were still insecure despite his comfort.

You liked the picture, reading the caption before going on to the explore page. You find yourself looking at memes, sending the funniest ones to Jungkook. You didn't care that you sent him twenty-two messages and he'll probably respond the next morning as long as he sent you twenty-two texts back instead of a singular response.

It's around one in the morning when you receive a thread of messages from your boyfriend coming all at once. You were half awake, body threatening to enter slumber. You frowned with squinted eyes when your phone screen shined. Tiredly, you unlocked your phone.

Jungkook💓: hiiiiiiiii

Jungkook💓: i miss u i'm sorry for not being there with u

Jungkook💓: forgive me🥺🥺

Jungkook💓: i think i'm drunk but not really

Jungkook💓: thank fuck autocorrect gets me cuz i'm like typing the wrong shir rn

Jungkook💓: i'm in my bed rn :((((

Jungkook💓: n i miss u so much like

Jungkook💓: so so sos osos osos odiosos much

Jungkook💓: wtf my keyboard just wrote that

Jungkook💓: is that spanish???

sugar mama🥺: Idk

sugar mama🥺: R u ok???

sugar mama🥺: How much did u have to drink??

Jungkook💓: idk they just kept common u know??

Jungkook💓: fuckhdn i meant comming*

Jungkook💓: wait but like did u mist me too🥺🦆🥺

sugar mama🥺: Ofc i did🙄

sugar mama🥺: Now go to bed ur gonna feel like shit in the morning

jungkook💓: bet

jungkook💓: IMG_3725.JPG

jungkook💓: dont my toes look prettyyyyukjd

sugar mama🥺: Stop we said we weren't into this feet shit n go to mf bed

Jungkook💓: ooooooo someone's mad that i got prettyer feet than them😌

Before you can reply to him, his name flashed over your phone screen. You swiped across the screen, bringing your phone up to your ear. You regret doing so as Jungkook screamed into the phone that he has more beautiful feet than you which you can not deny. There's a hiccup before he continued. "I'm like so fucking drunk right now. I miss you so much, I wish you came," his speech is a little slurred but you don't mind. "But I know you hate being surrounded by a lot of people, claustrophobic bitch."

You laughed into the speaker. Jungkook enjoyed every second of it. "You know what? At least I'm not afraid of a microwave."

You heard him gasp on the other line. "Microwaves have the potential to blow up and shit! Why the hell are you afraid of a spider that's not even half your size?" Jungkook shook his head, remembering how last week you forced him to kill a spider in the corner of the room. He tried to convince you to leave it alone but you weren't having it.

"They're fucking spiders! Almost everyone in the world is afraid of them even your mom!" he stayed silent for a second. Right when he was ready to defend himself he suddenly realized his mother does have a fear of spiders. "Aww, cat got your tongue, bubba?"

Jungkook giggled, laying out on his bed. An empty spot next to him where your body would occupy it. He doesn't say anything else, choosing to listen to your breathing. You call out his name, wondering if he dozed off. Jungkook hummed into the speaker. "I think I'm going to have to cut this short and go to bed. I love you," he smiled only to be met with silence. His cheeks burned in embarrassment and he was ready to open his mouth and drunkenly take everything back.

"Goodnight, don't think you're going to remember in the morning but I love you too," your voice was quiet. It almost drove Jungkook to tears from how small you sounded, almost as if scared to confess to him.

He hung up first, falling asleep quickly despite being disturbed by the void place besides him. You don't fall asleep right after. In fact, you don't sleep the whole night. Your mind too focused on your conversation.

Jungkook💓: HOLY SHIT HOW MUCH DID I DRINK

#jungkook scenario #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts fluff #bts angst #bts drabble #jungkook drabble #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #bts fanfic #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #fratboy jungkook

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shirtlesssammy · 3 years

Text

1x02: Wendigo

Then:

No Chick Flick Moments

Now:

In Blackwater Ridge, Colorado, three dudes enjoy the wilderness by gaming inside their tent. Something stalks their campsite from the shadows but the unattended fire that’s dangerously close to their flammable homes must be keeping it at bay, right? Erm, well, one dude heads out to the little boy’s room (a nearby tree) and gets snatched.

Another one pops his head out the tent door and gets snatched as well. The third dude kills his light and watches the shadow of a very fast creature circle his tent until it slashes the side and snatches him as well.

Palo Alto, California

Sam’s visiting Jessica’s grave. It really didn’t affect me the first time I watched this. It’s devastating to watch now though. Knowing Sam now --knowing how he doesn’t let people in, knowing how he didn’t even really let Jess in but loved her and wanted this world he could never have with her. Knowing that it’s fifteen years later and he’s had no one to really be with (Amelia was a construct of his damaged brain when forced to face the supernatural without Dean or Cas. I will not be taking questions at this time.) (But I guess he gets a blurry wife so ALLS GOOD FOR SAMMY.) He tells Jessica, “I should have protected you. I should have told you the truth.” Gah. Nothing could have saved her, and he has to go another fifteen years before he realizes this for good.

Psych! He was actually dreaming, but I hold firm with my thoughts on the dream scene.

Dean asks if Sam is okay.

Sam says yes and clears his throat. Classic! Then Dean asks if Sam wants to drive for a while. GAH. Like, Dean’s looking out for his little bro in the only way he knows right now --letting him drive.

They discuss leaving Palo Alto, and Dean points out that if they’re going to find the thing that killed Jess, they have to find their dad. He’s sending them to Colorado. Specifically to a National Forest in Lost Creek, Colorado.

They get to the warden’s station and introduce themselves as Environmental Study majors from UC-Boulder. “Recycle, man.” Bbys. The ranger sees right through their bullshit though. He asks if they’re friends with “that Hailey girl.” Dean sees his chance to learn more and leans into it. Hayley apparently has a brother that’s on Blackwater Ridge. He isn’t technically missing but she knows something is up.

Dean gets the brother’s camping permit. And now I need to process the next couple of lines. Sam asks if Dean wants a hook up with Hailey. Like, fuck you Sam for not knowing your brother at all, but also I guess you’re forgiven because your brother does do everything in his power to project that kind of energy. However, Dean is working the case and wants to know what they’re dealing with on this mountain.

Dean and Sam head over to Hailey’s to ask her about her brother, Tommy. They say they’re rangers.

Hailey gets on Dean’s good side by complementing his car. Hailey tells the brothers that she feels something is wrong because Tommy checks in every day via his cell and satellite phone. Hailey’s heading out first thing in the morning to try and find him.

Later at a bar, Sam “NERD” Winchester pulls out his extensive research on the area. People disappear on the ridge every 23 years. There was one survivor in 1959. They go to interview him. He tries to stick to the grizzly bear story, but eventually admits that they won’t believe him since no one else ever did. He said it moved fast and came into their cabin. It took his parents and left him with a horrible scar.

The next morning, Sam and Dean meet up with Hayley, her brother Ben, and the guide, Roy. The guide is skeptical but Dean just wants to help find her brother.

Cut to Tommy tied up in a cave. He wakes just in time to watch one of his friends get chomped to pieces by the monster.

Dean and Roy try to out alpha each other. Roy finds a bear trap and saves Dean from a nasty injury. I’m over here wondering wtf that’s doing in the middle of a national forest.

Hayley calls Dean out on their lack of provisions and wants to know who they are. He comes clean and tells her that they’re brothers looking for their father. But also, uh, Dean wearing jeans and boots is way more practical than SHORTS when hiking. Who wants to fuck around with ticks and poison ivy? All these years we thought Dean was just posturing about shorts when he was actually being a practical son of a bitch.

They reach the ridge and hear absolutely nothing. Roy decides he’s going to wander off alone. Solid choice, dude. The rest stick together. Soon they hear Roy call for Hailey. They run to him. They find her brother’s destroyed campsite. They find tracks of where the bodies were dragged and Tommy’s destroyed phone.

They explore the campsite, which is torn to absolute bits. Dean tracks the struggle to just outside of the campsite, where the trail quickly grows cold. Everyone gets lured further into the woods by desperate cries for help but it gets them nowhere. When they return to the destroyed camp, Sam pulls out their dad’s journal and they use it to pinpoint the monster: it’s a wendigo.

They hunker down for the night at the camp, and Dean protects them with Anasazi symbols drawn in the dirt. Soooooooooo in one breath you’re telling me that wendigo are found around the upper midwest / Canada, and in the next you’re telling me that the Anasazi (Southwestern/Western US) created widely-established protections against the wendigo? STARES DIRECTLY INTO THE CAMERA. The timelines! The geographic areas! Sigh...Supernatural ain’t ever had that good of a track record.

Dean tries to unpack Sam’s gourd. Sam doesn’t want to waste time hunting a wendigo when he can find their dad and hunt for what killed Jess instead. Dean holds out John Winchester’s journal like it’s a friggin’ (gags a little) bible and delivers the now-iconic line: “I think he wants us to pick up where he left off. You know, saving people, hunting things. The family business.”

Sam wants to know why John doesn’t just call his boys and give them an update - “It makes no sense.” OMG RIGHT, SAM? #JohnWinchester’sA+Parenting

Dean tells Sam that helping other people and other families is what helps him make it through each day. We cry in Dean’s face a little, even when he immediately attempts to mask his empathy in his very next (also iconic) line: “Let me tell you what else helps. Killing as many evil sons of bitches as I possibly can.”

Pleas for help start to echo through the woods again. Roy fires indiscriminately into the trees and races after his prey, sight unseen. Hands grab him by the head and haul him up into the trees. Everyone else makes it through the night safely and Roy’s demise reminds us that toxic masculinity KILLS.

The next morning, Sam’s moodily staring at their dad’s journal while Dean chats with Haley about the hunt.

For LOOK AT THIS BEAN Science:

We get info-dumped a truly mixed bag of lore, attributing wendigo tales to the Cree people (right region, at least!) and saying that wendigo are created by cannibalistic acts gone into overdrive. The implication here is that cannibalism equals power but alas, it also turns one into a monster. Wendigo like to squirrel away humans like nuts, so Haley’s brother might be alive and trapped for later snacking. And they can kill it! Kill it with fire.

Cut to Dean striding through the woods with a molotov cocktail in hand. THAT’S MY BOY. They follow an easy trail of bloody claw marks along the trees. Too late, Sam realizes it was TOO EASY. Roy’s body drops from the canopy and the group splinters as they flee. Dean and Haley get nabbed, leaving Sam and Ben to find their missing siblings. Ben finally gets some lines, alerting Sam to Dean’s breadcrumb trail of peanut M&Ms.

They head into a defunct mine. (Speak friend and enter?) Growls echo through the darkened tunnels, but Sam and Ben discover the body storage by accident when they fall through floor boards into a lower level. They discover Haley and Dean trussed up and free them. Tommy’s there too! And still alive!

Dean finds some flare guns and they make their way out of the tunnels. Dean tries to lure the wendigo away from the siblings and Sam. All his attempts are for naught, because the wendigo tries to attack Sam, and the three siblings. It’s okay, though! Dean fires a flare gun right into its gut and it burns into embers.

Later at the ranger’s station, they spin tales to the cops about a grizzly.

Haley thanks Dean with a gentle kiss, and Dean watches the siblings leave with a fond and wistful expression. JENSEN ACKLES YOUR FACE IS A MENACE!

The Winchesters hit the road, Sam behind the wheel of the Impala. Time to hunt some evil sons of bitches and play some classic rock!

Oh sweetheart, I don’t do quotes:

Recycle, man

Nobody likes a skeptic

I think he wants us to pick up where he left off. You know, saving people, hunting things. The family business

Man, I hate camping

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

#spn recap #dean winchester #sam winchester #spn 1x02 #wendigo #supernatural season 1

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tartrazeen · 4 years

Text

How DBH Leans Way Harder Into HankCon Than Father/Son

Listen.

I love you people who make Hank and Connor that whole platonic family thing. Totally you do you, that's fine, don't even worry about it.

For real - this isn't some ship war. It's a game. I even got some dad vibes from Hank before - oop, nope, we just went full daddy, didn't we. So this is not pitting two ideas against each other to see which one's better. They're both good. I massively prefer one, but I'm not saying either one is wrong.

I *am* saying the canon is geared towards their relationship being HankCon.

Putting my last analysis aside, this game's got a consistent pattern to it: the relationship comes to a conflict.

Can a machine be a person? Central conflict of the game. The relationship is between humans and androids externally, and androids and machines internally.

Can an android ever be a mom? Kara's story, with a conflict of "What's the worst that can happen?" It certainly leads to some bad decisions, and - just... the *worst* doctor's appointment.

Can an android be a human's son? Markus' story with its conflict of, "Is that bad?" And here, we get some subtle hints that Leo's not too thrilled, like when Markus gets shot in the face (#defundthepolice amirite? no seriously, wtf guys). Unlike Kara, Markus doesn't have a little "Family" bar showing for Carl, but not only do they openly say what they think, Markus' extended conflict towards this is questioning whether he was more than a slave in a gilded cage or a privileged rich kid now playing War Leader.

Can androids be a threat? There's some demonizing of Markus if he inexplicably gets mad that his people are being killed to death (with a beautiful analysis on that tone policing by dbh-rambling) , but yes, that relationship's in the Deviant Leader's story as Pacifist vs. Non-Pacifist.

Can androids love?

Oh boy.

The question of whether androids can be somebody's son (or daughter) is only actively and directly discussed in Markus' story, and in Kara's from the parent's POV. Family doesn't come up in Connor's except for one big moment and one big parallel: when Hank tells Machine!Connor that every time a Connor died, he thought of Cole, and when Daniel at the start has his whole thing of being replaced after thinking he was part of the family.

Those do not incite a conflict.

For Markus, Leo makes fun of the idea, leading to one of the plethora of opportunities we have to sad-kill his dad or allow Markus stand up for himself.

Zlatko mocks Kara and kidnaps Alice, and while Kara won't leave the house without her kid in tow (who warned you like a billion times to leave girl smh), the race is on to find this chick. Ralph straight up tries to force it if you go that route, again putting Kara and Alice's bond to the test. Same thing at the recycling plant and crossing the border: how far will Kara take this 'mom' thing is the conflict.

Ain't nobody pullin' that shit on Connor.

He's vaguely interested in Hank's 'personal problems' as it pertains to the case. Hank might open up a little about Cole. It's not discussed until the very end, and the theme of 'son' doesn't enter the picture until we *see* a picture at Hank's house, whereupon Connor says nothing about it. That's different from the other storylines, where that family theme appears (and gets talked about) pretty much right away.

Connor doesn't even connect with the idea of replacing a member of a family when he's facing off against Daniel at the start. He basically calls Daniel dumb for it, pre-Zlatko style. His one interest in the Cole situation is saying it's not Hank's fault, with his sincerity adjusted per the Machine! or Deviant! path. He's focused on Hank and Hank alone.

You know what else he's focused on?

"Androids can't feel anything."

"They're not 'technically' emotions."

"I'm a machine and machines don't want anything."

Markus doesn't question whether he can be in love. Kara is maybe surprised by the emotion of those two androids at Rose's house, but her love for Alice is out in the open several times. That's the one thing they feel confident about, and North is as quick to accept it (as the only relationship able to go to 'Lover') as Markus is if Kara explains to him why she's helping Alice. Even as he's mocking her, Zlatko doesn't question that Kara *thinks* she loves her daughter. He uses it against her. That's why these aren't conflicts: they're facts more than anything, taken for granted.

... You know who ain't takin' that shit for granted? And is instead - like, actively challenging every speckle of the concept?

"*smack* What am I to you, a statistic? A 'zero', a 'one' in your fucking program?"

"People are fucking insane. They don't want relationships anymore, everybody just gets an android."

"Those two girls wanted to be together. They really seemed in love."

And like Zlatko with Kara, we have 60 being all goddamn, "Now it's time to decide what matters most: him or the revolution."

That is a conflict.

Kara, Luther and Alice go to a happy little theme park and frolic on a merry-go-round.

Markus has a heart to heart with either Carl at his deathbed or just with Carl's grave, but always to seek advice.

Connor and Hank go to a fucking strip club advertised in their *first* chapter together and get into a bitchy quarrel about, "WHAT ARE YOU REALLY CONNOR, I SHOULD NOT HAVE ADDED A GUN TO THIS CONVERSATION (for real #defundthepolice)."

That is the relationship.

So to recap:

Testing Markus' family relationship with Carl incites a conflict with Leo about who Carl's son really is, eventually putting their lives on the line.

Testing Kara's family relationship with Alice incites a whole host of conflicts that put their lives repeatedly on the line.

Testing Connor's family relationship with Hank incites... uh... a 53-year-old bear calling a 30-year-old weaponized twink 'son' as Connor bleeds out in that one ending you get where you do nothing for two minutes you monster, or - at best - spurs Connor to follow the platonic love of putting a father figure over *the entire revolution and existence of his newly self-aware species* by using it to 'find each other' once Hank has to pick out the real Connor.

Testing Connor's romantic relationship with Hank incites Hank to *fucking kill himself* if you two aren't friends, him punching Perkins in the face if you *are* friends, variations on one your asses dangling off the side of a building or getting dropped/pushed right off of it, and having it listed as a full-on betrayal if you dare to stay a licky blood machine.

Look - Connor said it himself:

"I'm whatever you want me to be: your partner, your buddy to drink with, or just a machine programmed to accomplish a task."

*You do you*. If you see them as family, just make sure they're happy for me, please (and that you remember that even on the good ending, Connor has to murder a minimum of two guards to get through CyberLife so show his ass some respect).

... but.

But.

I mean, when even Clancy says they weren't father and son - not to appeal to the actors' POV or anything, but if that wasn't on the menu when Bryan whipped out a little "I adapt to human unpredictability" wink (that he apparently had to fight David Cage for) then whoa - that makes the idea of Hank and Connor's relationship being platonic less canon than the evidence *for* HankCon.

Besides that, if Markus and Kara *and* Connor are exploring those angles of platonic android and human families, in and around the willingness to explore overt romantic relationships among the androids, who do we have to explore a romance between a human and android?

;)

#detroit become human #hankcon #hannor #hank x connor #hank anderson #dbh connor #dbh markus #dbh kara #my stuff #good job tartra

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uncloseted · 3 years

Note

How do I get my mom to let me wear what I want (mall goth) without judging me or sexulaize me. Today i asked her if i could dye my hair black and she literally said “People will think I’m I bad mom, i mean people judge me by letting you wear all that dark makeup, and you will look so much older than you do now so you know, people will stare..” Like wtf I’m 12 (Ik ik I’m young) and just trying to be myself.

I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but I think I’m kind of on your mum’s side here. I don’t think dyeing your hair black is necessarily an issue, but combined with clothes and accessories that are intended to make you look older, I can understand her fear that you may get unwanted attention from people who think you’re older than you are. Not everyone you encounter will be mature enough for you to dress that way, and they may think that when you dress that way, it means they’re allowed to flirt with you or touch you (because they’re sexist jerks). You’re in no way, shape, or form responsible for regulating the male gaze, but at the same time, it’s an unfortunate reality that many girls have to deal with at some point in their lives. Your mum is someone who’s experienced what that’s like firsthand, and she’s trying (in her own way) to look out for you.

It’s great to experiment with your look, and I think you should, but maybe try and do it in a way that reflects your age for a little bit longer. I know it can be tempting to want to be seen as a grown up, but you only get to be young for so long. You (unfortunately) have the rest of your life to be sexualized by random strangers that you wish would leave you alone. Perhaps try thinking about what you want to communicate about yourself with your outfits and go from there. “Edgy” or “punk” or “goth” doesn’t necessarily have to be short skirts and lots of makeup. Neither does “empowering” or “mature” or “rebellious”. I would also think about what you feel like you would get out of dressing the way you want. Is it that you want to be rebellious, or feel like this is a way to gain control over the way people see you? Is it just that this is how your friends dress? What about the way you dress feels like “you”, and where did that come from? Maybe by explaining to your mum why it’s important to you, she’ll be more willing to compromise.

I hope that doesn’t sound too mumsy of me. I really do feel for you, and I understand how important it is to feel at home in your clothes. But it’s also important for you to get to explore your sexuality and who you are as a person on your own terms, instead of letting other people define those things for you.

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angelaiswriting · 5 years

Text

Children (1 of 4) | Michael Gray x reader

[original picture: pinterest]

✏️ Pairing: Michael Gray x fem!reader

✏️ Summary: After a nice Shelby family dinner, Michael and his wife leave their son at Polly’s to enjoy a night with each other. It turns out, though, that’s it’s not just each other that they crave. (Requested by Anonymous)

✏️ A/N: gaaaah *insert unintelligible sounds here* I told Paulina I would wait tomorrow to post this, but let’s be honest: this is me we’re talking about, I literally have close to zero patience (sorry b). Anyway, this fic was a ride, I somehow was embarrassed to talk about a dick and a vagina, but I pushed through it HAHAHA wtf is happening to me? This is honestly my sweetest smut ever and I just hope Michael is not OOC here! (You let your girl know, though.)

✏️ Beta-read by: @sweetvengeancee

✏️ Warnings: 18+ only, so if you’re a minor, don’t fucking interact. With that said: vaginal sex, oral sex f/r, fingering, talks of wanting children, just... immense fluff mixed with the sex.

✏️ Word-count: 4,572

PART ONE: CHILDREN | >> part two: anna and john >> | >> part three: a bigger table >> | >> part four: warhorse >>

In the silence of the big house, even their hurried steps echo off the walls, lose themselves in the depth of the mansion. Even when Michael’s coat falls to the ground after his hand missed the coathanger, the sound is louder than usual – more like a long, soft sigh than a thud, the pressed wool delicate and still warm from having been worn all day.

His wife’s long, red topcoat follows suit, joins its partner on the waxed hardwood floor of the hall and then it’s the turn of Michael’s hat – the cheap razor blades clink against the parquet.

After that, it’s all short breaths and whimpered words, hungry kisses left on kiss-starved lips. They’re both hungry: they haven’t had a chance of being alone for a while now, both too busy with the business or helping John grow up, teaching him how to talk and walk and run. And live – live like the world is made of shining gold and riverbeds are filled with flowing honey.

“I fucking missed this,” he whispers against her lips as he meets her gaze and finds hers already twinkling with amusement and something else. Something more. Something that runs deep and that scorches like living fire. “Missed you.”

She has no chance to chuckle, for he kisses her again. And it’s pure hunger. It’s pure lust and need and love, the same insistent feeling that brought them to having a baby running around the house on his chubby three-year-old legs and a hat too big on his head. The same baby that’s now sleeping peacefully at Polly’s place after a chaotic dinner with the whole Shelby family as they’re being given the chance to love as foolishly and as recklessly as they always did before getting married.

He makes her walk backwards as he blindly leads her towards the staircase and her hands are desperate and messy in his hair, on his face, on his neck and then down his chest and back up his back when she pulls him closer.

“Missed having you this fucking hungry,” he groans when he picks her up in his arms and she squeals.

She kisses his neck as he walks up the stairs – burning lips against even hotter skin – and then scorching tongue against his kiss-bruised neck. She licks and kisses and suckles, and he does his best not to moan – the maids might be used to overhearing their love-making sessions, but he’s not. He’ll probably never be.

His hand slaps her butt when he reaches the landing. She laughs, he laughs, and it’s a matter of seconds before he puts her back down onto her feet. And a couple of seconds later, they’re both sprinting down the corridor like children, giggling and chuckling, promises of a wild night falling from their lips like solemn pledges.

It’s all downhill from there: she’s in his arms again as soon as the door closes behind her back and a heartbeat later, she’s pressed up against the wooden surface, legs wrapped around his waist as she hastily fumbles with the knot of his tie just as he struggles with her garter belt.

His lips are bruising against her neck. They suck and kiss on her pulse point as he breathes her in. Her scent is home – roses and cigarettes and clean pressed bedsheets and the sugary honey of John’s sweets. It’s a smell he craves during the day when he’s in the office or dealing with more risky business with Thomas or any other of the guys. And it’s also a smell he relishes when he comes back home and he finds her sitting at the table as John draws, a smell he loses himself into when he spoons her at night and buries his face in her hair – breathes her in.

“We won’t go to sleep until sunrise,” and it’s a promise.

God, she looks into his eyes and she knows that’s a promise. There’s a frenzy in them, a frenzy she knows will push her to be louder than she usually allows herself to be. Promises of every kind flash across her husband’s features, tug at his lips until he’s grinning up at her as his hips experimentally thrust against her.

And she moans – low and deep and barely above a whimper, but it’s there and as they look into each other’s eyes, they know they’re just as hungry, just as ready to get drunk on each other.

She moans and he groans, her hands cradling his face and her lips pressing and pushing against his until he parts them and their tongues glide against each other. It’s… good, like a glass of fresh water after a day spent in the sun. They kiss and savour each other like they haven’t done in what feels like forever. And he tastes of strong whiskey and cigarettes and she - of Christmas trees, the gin she’s drunk still pungent on her tongue, still buzzing in her fingertips.

When he moves away from the door, he does so with a grunt, for her hold on him gets tighter and pressed up as she is against him, she feels delicious.

She makes him delirious.

His brain works a mile a minute, his heart - ten.

Everything’s messy – messy lips, messy backwards steps, messy hands under the gown of her dress, pushing her stockings down her legs until the back of his knees bump into the edge of the mattress and he falls backwards.

“Michael!” She squeals and chuckles as she balances herself with her hands on his chest.

His hands move along her thighs and glide over her ass, fingers pressing into the plump flesh as his grin widens, teeth glinting mischievously in the bedroom lights. “Y/N.” He savours her name on his tongue as he stares up at her.

They stay like that for a while, panting lightly, both of them catching their breath with their eyes set onto each other’s. It feels good – this feels good.

Michael Gray loves staring at his wife more than anything else – but never more than watching his boy grow and learn things and explore the world. He wants at least six more of them, six more Johns playing hide-and-seek in the endless rooms of his mansion – or maybe two more Johns and three girls that teach their brothers how to remain anchored to the ground, how to avoid being swept away by the Peaky Blinders’ lifestyle and business.

He looks at her and he sees it all over again – her pregnancy, her slowly-growing belly, her swelling breasts, that absolutely mind-fucking pregnancy glow that had stuck to her for nine months like a second skin. He sees it and he feels it – feels it in his loins, in his breath growing shorter, in his smile widening and losing its wickedness. He feels it in his heart, that very heart that throbs and flutters in his chest as a pinky blush slowly blooms on his cheeks.

And he finds himself craving it again.

He craves it all again – even the morning sickness, even the empty threats thrown his way through a closed door as his wife gave birth to his son. He craves the smell of her, so sweet and delicate and unexplainably heavenly.

She’s undoing the buttons of his shirt when he comes back to his senses, her hands swift and precise as they reach the last one before sliding underneath the cotton and across the flushed skin of his chest. They’re quick at opening his shirt – and her thumbs are even quicker when they swipe on his sides, just below his ribcage.

After that, she bends down and her lips are feathers against the scars on his chest. It’s become a habit by now – she kisses the bumpy skin of the scars left behind by those fucking bullets and everything falls back into place – everything is right. Again.

Everything feels safe. It’s safe to want it again, it’s safe to wish for it – and it will always be, in her arms, in their bedroom, with her skin against his and his against hers. And so his hands move away from her buttcheeks to cradle her face, to pull her closer to him.

She smiles and it’s one of those whispered smiles that make her exhale loudly from her nose and the air fans his lips as she looks down at him. Her eyes are grinning, too, before he kisses her.

“Let’s have another kid.” It’s a murmured prayer against her red-covered lips, against the smudged reddish hue around the corners of her lips, where his lips have pressed before.

“Another kid?” She presses kisses to his jaw, all the way to that sweet spot below his ear that makes his hips thrust up against her when she suckles on it.

“For a start,” he breathes, hands snaking around her neck to blindly undo the clasp of the necklace he’s given her for their first anniversary. His left arm opens, then, hangs from the foot of the bed to let the diamonds fall to the floor, their dead value protected only by the soft sheepskin someone has gifted them on their wedding day.

“‘For a start’ sounds good,” she mutters against his skin, slowly sliding down his body until she’s sitting between his legs, her fingers undoing the button of his black trousers. “Was this your great plan?” she asks, pushing both slacks and underwear down his legs, stopping for a moment only to take off his shoes. And his socks.

And after that, she’s kissing her way up his legs and there are only goosebumps in her lips’ wake – goosebumps that tug at his skin and at his brain, cutting his breath short the closer she gets to him.

He’s hard – he knows he is, he doesn’t need to look down. He’s straining against nothing and the closer she gets, the more insistent the pulling in his loins gets. The whole day has led up to that – from the groggy first minutes they spent in bed that morning; to that free hour in the afternoon they spent cuddled up in the tub, preparing for the family dinner at his mother’s; to the way she had looked in that sparkling grey dress, her smile shining brighter than the diamonds around her neck.

Michael loves Y/N like nothing else and with such an intensity that it hurts. It shatters his heart in the best way possible and it leaves him craving for more – more of her, more of their lazy mornings, even more of the hectic mornings spent in bed with John gurgling and telling unintelligible stories and simply being the rascal child he is.

“Michael?” she hums against the taut skin of his stomach as a cool fingertip traces the underside of his left ball. “Was this your great plan?” she repeats, for she knows he’s already forgotten the question. “Spend the night fucking another baby in me?”

He loves it when she’s like that, when she lets her dirty mouth run free – when she takes off that lady-like mask she wears when she deals with people outside the family.

“Undress for me,” he says instead, stopping her from taking his dick in her hands.

She smirks up at him and she looks so fucking ravishing that his eyes almost roll back into his skull as the muscles in his thighs tense, his toes curl.

“Undress for me.” The words are whispered this time, and pleading – voice soft and imploring as his thumbs caress her burning cheeks.

She mutters something back to him, something his brain doesn’t pick up, before she leaves a kiss on his hip. The second after, her comforting warmth isn’t there anymore. When he opens his eyes, she’s standing in front of him, between his legs, her feet between his on the floor.

“Why don’t you help me?” Her smile is sweet, loving – so fucking loving that Michael feels a sob build up in the back of his throat as he sits up on the bed and his hands reach their place on her hips.

All he wants is to fucking press his face into her belly and breathe her in.

“Turn around,” he says instead, standing up behind her when she faces the bedroom door in front of her.

His breath is hot against her neck and his hands burn even more even through the dress she’s wearing when they come to rest on her abdomen. He leaves them there for a moment as he peppers kisses on the side of her neck, pushing himself closer against her, suckling on her sensitive skin until her head lolls back to rest against his shoulder.

“Let’s have another baby.” He leaves a kiss on the crown of her head before pulling out the pins that keep her hairdo up. They fall to the floor one by one and the sound each one produces sends shivers up her shins. “Let’s give John a baby brother,” and he kisses the back of her neck, “or a baby sister.” It’s only when he’s let her Parisian earrings join the hairpins on the hardwood floor that he whispers in her ear: “Or both.”

It takes him three excruciating minutes to undo all the ties and buttons on the back of her dress. And to let it fall in a heap at her feet. And to slide the straps of her full slip down her shoulders. And to let the garment glide down her body until all she is wearing are briefs, garter belt, shoes, and socks.

He makes her turn around and as she does, he sinks to his knees. Michael Gray doesn’t kneel in front of anybody, but with his wife? Fuck. He’d spend his life on his knees for her – he’d die on his fucking knees for her. His heart aches at the sight of her like that, lips parted, fingers dancing lightly on the skin of her cleavage and then up her neck as she goes to remove the one hairpin he forgot in her hair.

And his hands – his blood-covered hands, so used to numbers and weapons – are soft and light on the skin of her sides and the brushing of his calluses makes goosebumps wash over her as she looks down at him – looks down into his eyes.

Gentleness turns into hunger when his fingers hook underneath the hem of her briefs and garter belt and his head leans forward to leave a chaste kiss on her lower belly as his mind’s already wandering – wandering to when her womb will be round with yet another kid of his, wandering to when he’ll feel his spawn kick from inside her to tell him, daddy, I’m here! I can’t wait to get out and see you!

He can’t wait to welcome his child, either. He can’t wait for the moment he’ll have another mini Gray in his hands to show to John, to teach his firstborn how to be a big brother. He craves it, and there’s something in that image that tugs at his heart and at his eyes and makes tears well up and obfuscates his sight.

He makes quick work of her shoes but he’s slow at taking them off. It’s something he enjoys – undressing his wife. It’s a night-time ritual he’ll never get tired of, something he enjoys more than anything in this godforsaken world. It makes him feel capable of more, makes him feel like there’s a higher meaning to his existence – to her existence – and to existence in and of itself. There’s a meaning so fucking high that his mind can’t comprehend it and so it leaves him with love-filled turmoil inside.

But then, when she’s finally and utterly naked and he’s back on his feet, he hugs her and he holds her tight – and close – so close he swears he can feel her heart beat against his chest. Every part of him brushes against her and every part of her brushes against him – skin, limbs, hair, breath.

She’s so close it physically hurts. But it’s a good hurt, something that makes him feel alive, something that makes him feel lucky to be alive.

He tilts her head back, then, and he looks down at her with a smile brighter than the sun and the moon and all the stars combined. And all he sees on her face is love for him – love for them both together, for what they’ve been capable of doing and for what they want to do again.

The kiss is sweet, almost chaste as they stare into each other’s eyes, breathe against each other’s skin as her hands move up his back and down his biceps until she’s holding onto his wrists, his hands cradling her face and keeping her in place.

“I love you,” she breathes when he lets her go, when she lets him guide her until she’s lying on her back, the soft mattress underneath her and his strong body above her. “I love you so fucking much it hurts.”

He smiles at that – he grins at that. He’s glad she feels the same – the same feeling, that same weird tugging in every single muscle and bone of her body, that same churning sensation deep down in the pit of her stomach as the head of his cock leaks pre-cum in the joint of her thigh and hip.

“I love you too,” he whispers in the valley of her breasts as his kisses drift south, lower and lower until he’s settled between her parted legs.

And she’s beautiful. She’s so fucking beautiful, spread out for him like this, that he has to close his eyes for a moment, even though there’s no stopping that finger from swiping between her folds.

And she’s wet. She’s so wet he can almost feel her on his tongue – he can almost taste her on his tongue even from there. And it’s even better when he replaces his finger with his tongue because she’s there and it’s just so…

Ugh.

Michael doesn’t know how it feels, he can’t label it with a word. He feels like it’s been so long since the last time he’s had this much time to worship her like he should – to be soft and gentle and slow, to drive her as wild as he used to when they still had to get married, when they still had to have John.

She hisses when he licks that first stripe between her slick folds and the scratching of her nails on his scalp is so gentle it’s almost barely there. A second swipe and his name falls from her lips like a prayer, a never-ending litany that raises in volume the more he licks her, two of his fingers slowly pushing into her throbbing pussy – first one, then the second – and they curl gently and when they brush against that sweet spot of hers, she gasps.

She gasps and he groans against her, the sound coming out just as he wraps his lips around her clit, suckling gently on it once. It’s then that her hips buck up and he slides his arms under her thighs, grabbing her hips into a tight hold to keep her still.

His hands – those same hands that have killed and hit and punched – now hold onto her with the utmost gentleness and care as his shoulders – those same shoulders that at times feel like they hold the weight of the world – press into her inner thighs.

He loves this – loves what he can do to her, loves that he can be a different person with her. Gentle and careful and reckless and wild and so loving all at once. He loves the effect he has on her, the sounds she whimpers and moans when he goes down on her like he’s doing now, his fingers slowly fucking her, his tongue and mouth insistent on her burning core.

It builds up slowly – and yet, faster than he thought it would. She pants and wiggles under him, her back arching off of the mattress, her fingers tugging on his hair, making him moan as he presses himself harder into the bed.

And when he opens his eyes and looks up at her, he swears she’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. Eyes screwed shut, lips parted, nipples peaked, baby hair sticking to the thin layer of sweat on her forehead – he swears this is a fucking vision, and he finds himself hoping this is what he’ll see the day he dies: his lovely wife spread out for him on their bed, opening up for him the way she always does, clamping down onto his greedy fingers as his mouth tends to her clit.

He wants to stay here forever, wants to lose himself into her, wants to love her like a starved man would – intensely and ardently and all at once, pouring himself into her before it’s too late, before the time for their last farewell comes.

He fucking loves her and he’d like to tell her again, for he’ll always love her. Even on his deathbed. Even on her deathbed. Even during the storm, when everything looks darker than it actually is. He wants to tell her he loves her to America and back – to the Moon and back – and surely even beyond that. He loves her more than he loves his job, more than he loves his life with the Peaky Blinders, even more than he loves horses.

But she’s coming when he’s about to open his mouth and tell her again how fucking much she means to him. She’s coming and she’s moaning and whimpering as the walls of her vagina flutter around his fingers.

Her skin burns against his lips when he kisses his way back up to her face – past her lower belly, past her chest, past her breasts after he kisses each nipple and tears whines from her lips and even past her neck, until he’s finally kissing her lips and she can taste herself in his mouth.

There’s a moan, then, one that builds up in a crescendo and that comes from deep inside her as her tongue swipes against his and it’s a sound – and a feeling – he’s missed. He’s missed it so much that his lungs almost hurt and he finds himself melting in her arms.

Right after that, it’s all a God and Michael and fuck and love against his lips as he takes himself in his hand. His body barely has the strength to balance himself on one forearm as he gently strokes himself once, twice before nudging her clit with the head of his cock.

And just like that, with a long and slow thrust forward, he’s sheathed inside her and his forehead is covered in sweat and he’s fucking panting against the kiss-bruised skin of the crook of her neck. And her hands are in his hair again, fingertips gently massaging his scalp as she pants against the side of his face, his ear, his hair.

“I meant it,” he moans against her skin when her walls hug him tighter and his back tenses. “Another kid.” He’s out of breath – even out of strength as he lies there, his chest pressed heavily against hers as her thighs slide along his until they’re pressing against his hips.

Her lips pepper kisses to every centimetre she can reach without moving her head and he starts doing the same, forcing her to stop. He pecks her neck before the slow kisses turn to suckling, his teeth gently grazing her flushed skin as his hips draw back.

It’s delicious – the friction, the feeling of her all around him, the whine that leaves her lips when he pecks them. It’s heavenly and he feels like a whole new person as her burning warmth scorches all his walls and masks and protections down.

Her “I meant it, too,” is a breath against his lips as her hands press into the flesh of his shoulders, nails lightly scraping his skin. “God, let’s have another one.”

After that, it’s pure desperation. It’s like they can’t have enough of each other as his pace picks up and her ankles cross over his ass, trying to pull him deeper and deeper each time he thrusts into her, the head of his dick nudging that spot inside her that just makes her eyes roll back into her skull as her neck arches and her breasts press harder into him.

“Let’s have ten more,” is the incoherent plea she breathes out as she fails to look at him, her eyelids too heavy to keep her eyes open.

His exhale is almost louder than anything else as he snorts, trying to hold in the chuckle. And he’s kissing her neck and face – cheeks, nose, lips, eyelids; anywhere he can reach, he presses a kiss to her skin.

By God, she drives him insane. There’s no rhythm in his thrusts, no steady strength as he loses his focus and his head falls forward, his forehead pressing against her collarbone. His arms snake and push their way under her waist, hands sliding between her ass and the mattress to pull her a little higher. And it doesn’t make much of a difference, but both of them see stars.

When she comes, her orgasm cuts his breath short and all it takes him to reach his bliss is another couple of strokes of his cock inside her, her vagina clamping down on him.

And he’s gone.

He’s so fucking gone that he forgets his name for a minute or two as he sloppily and automatically thrusts inside her. Back and forth, back and forth – it’s the only action that has meaning as he draws out their highs and gently leads them both off of them.

Neither of them remembers when he’s pulled out, nor that they moved on the bed to cuddle until they’re already in that position, their breathing slowly evening out as she pants against his chest and he draws made-up patterns on her sweaty back.

“Did you mean it?” he manages to ask after a while, when the thrumming of his heart in his chest is not that loud anymore – when he feels himself starting to harden again. “When you said you wanted ten more kids.” It’s a breathless laughter, the one that shakes him and that vibrates in her chest.

She tilts her head against his chest to look up at him and she grins, her eyebrows wiggling before she chuckles, too. “Who knows?”

“You’re insane.”

She’s insane but he loves her nonetheless. And he’d give her twenty more children just to see that radiant grin on her lips that makes even her eyes laugh.

“We should hurry up, then,” he says instead of confessing his thoughts, his right hand moving down her left thigh and then back up again before pushing between her legs. “Make the most of this night of freedom to make sure we’ll have at least one more, huh?”

*cleans sweat from forehead* Was this any good? How was Michael? (Hopefully not that OOC) A penny for your thoughts? :)

Requests are still open if you want to request some Peaky Blinders stories ❤️

TAGS (to be added to or to be removed from any list, shoot me an ask)

Everything: @idhrenniel @saibh29 @fuckthatfeeling @aya-fay @pebblesz892 @mblaqgi

Peaky Blinders: @whimsylavender @thethyri @friendleyneighbourhoodvillain

People that might be interested: @sweetvengeancee @kind-wolf @flowers-in-your-hayr

#michael gray imagine #michael gray x reader #michael gray #michael gray smut #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders smut #angelaiswriting

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