#ok so all of these may be personal to me with the way I describe them

[warmafternoon]

#because I just opened yogurt that had wet snotty fruit chunks in it and almost threw up #ok so all of these may be personal to me with the way I describe them #nerodivergent #neurodivergent #nerodiversity #neurodiversity #neurodiverse stuff #audhd #autism #actually autistic #adhd #actually audhd #audhd things #audhd problems #autistic things #actually adhd #neurodivergence #adhd problems #adhd things

[yoonguurt]

Summary: Christmas this, Christmas that. The “Most wonderful time of the year” is not how Y/N would describe it. Sure, it used to be a magical time full of happiness and love, but she let that belief go years ago. Christmas is all about how much money you spend on someone and making yourself look good to outsiders. Snow is wet and everything is cold during this time of year, makes everything gross. Her best friend is tired of having The Grinch as a roommate, especially when he remembers what it was like when she loved Christmas. This year, he finally decides that it’s time to bring the magic back into her life. Maybe that magic will bring a little love with it.

Pairing: Bang Chan x fem!reader

Word Count:9,603

Genre/themes/au: fluff, smut, a tiny bit of angst; friends to lovers, roommates to lovers; it's a Christmas fic, yall.

Warnings: parental abandonment, masturbation(f), unprotected sex(NO! BAD!), fingering, oral (f rec), daddy kink (it just kind of happened ok), allusion to a hand kink but I didn't really act on it. I think that's it, but let me know if i missed something. My work is 18+ minors are not tolerated here. Be gone, child.

Walking through the front door, the sound of Christmas music and the blinking of festive lights hits your senses immediately. ‘God dammit, Chris. It's literally the 1st.’ You love having your best friend as a roommate, you really do, but his holiday spirit is not something you enjoy at this moment. 

When he goes all out for New Year's? All good. Valentine's Day? Fuck yeah, let's it chocolate. Halloween? Yes bitch, let's get spooky. But Christmas? It's a no from you. That's where you draw the line. 

His voice floats through your ears as he sings along to whatever annoying song is on. ‘At least it's not All I Want For Christmas is You.’ The beautiful tone of his soft singing almost brings you out of your grumpy mood. Almost. You love his voice, it does things to you. It makes you happy and relaxed. It also turns you on, but he doesn't need to know that. If it weren't for the fact that he's so into this damn holiday, everything would be perfect. 

“You're letting the heat out. And stop looking so mad, you knew this was coming.” His words draw you from your thoughts and you squint your eyes at him in a glare. By the bright smile on his face, he obviously doesn't care about your death stare. You toss your backpack aside, kicking your shoes off with a sigh. It’s been a long day of classes and assignments and you really just want to sit on the couch and watch true crime.

Chris has a pep in his step as he walks to the couch, throwing himself down on the cushions and opening his arms wide. He knows what you want, of course he knows. He tilts his head toward the spot beside him, a soft smile replacing the beaming one he had when you walked in. Your feet shuffle across the carpet as you make your way to him, promptly plopping down next to him and letting him wrap his arms around you.

Chris is your person. He may not have been in your life from the start, but the 2 years he has been has solidified his place for years to come. He's your best friend, sometimes you think he may even be your soulmate, but you don't have the courage to tell him just how deep in you are for him.

You met Chris in freshman year of college, having shared the first class of the semester together. You had taken the seat next to you, immediately giving you the beautiful smile he seems to almost always have. Now, you are in no way a shy person, not even close, but being the focus of his wide smile never fails to bring a blush to your cheeks. It's been like that since day one, you're just better at hiding it now. 

One class turned into three that semester and the two of you clicked immediately. He's a bit more outgoing than you are, but not by a whole lot. He just has an aura of comfort and it reeled you in and you haven't been able to get rid of him sense, not that you want to, anyway. You're down bad. 

At the beginning of sophomore year, the two of you opted for getting an apartment together rather than staying in the dorms. It just made more sense that way. You got to live off campus with your best friend, and you had someone to split the rent with. 

The sound of a movie beginning to play on the tv jolted you from your thoughts. Eyes flicking up to the screen, a groan immediately left your throat without much thought. A hand rubbing up and down your back reminded you of the comforting presence beside you. “A Christmas movie? Really, Chris?” You can feel his mood shift and you’re filled with a small amount of guilt. You know he loves Christmas, he loves holidays in general, but Christmas always puts him in a particular cheery mood. But he also knows how much you detest the holiday. But then again, he has always been willing to do things he hates just because it’s something you want to do. 

The weight of his arm disappears from your body and your head snaps up to face him. ‘Great. I’ve finally pushed him into anger.’ You know that he isn’t angry with you, but the little voice in your head can’t help but override your rationality. The two of you sit in silence for a while, both of you focusing on the images flickering across the tv screen. You’re not as much focusing on the movie as just having a place for your eyes to land. You can tell that Chris is in thought, he’s unusually quiet. There is a tension in the air, thick with guilt and worry. 

By the time the movie is, what you assume, half way through, Chris reaches forward to press the pause button on the remote. The scene stops in the middle of a conversation and the looks on the characters’ faces brings a small snort from your nose. It’s always been a game between the two of you. Someone pauses a movie or show randomly, trying to find the best funny face someone on screen is making. You turn to the man beside you, ready to talk about the game, only to see how serious his face is. 

“I’m not going to ask why you hate Christmas so much, I already know that.” The mention of the reason for your Grinch-like attitude makes you wince, though you try to hide it. That obviously doesn’t work because a warm hand finds its way back around your shoulders, giving a squeeze of reassurance. “But I am going to ask that you do me a favor.” Your heart races at his words. You give him a nod, letting him know that you’re listening. “Give me until Christmas Eve to change your opinion.”

That is not what you were expecting. You thought he’d ask you to keep your holly jolly hating thoughts to yourself. You had no idea how he even thought he could change your mind. Hating Christmas had been a part of you since before you met Chris. It wasn’t your whole personality, that would be awful, but it was well known amongst your friends that you and Christmas didn’t get along. Chris was one of the only people in your friend group that knew the exact reason. You love your friends and as much as you trust them, you don’t want to deal with the looks. You had worried about that when you told Chris, but he hadn’t looked at you like other people would have. Of course he hadn’t. He was Chris. He was perfect.

“What do you mean?” You mentally rolled your eyes at yourself, it felt like a dumb question. Your best friend’s gaze held no anger, and didn't make you feel stupid for asking. He just gave you a soft smile, his hand coming to push your hair behind your ear. “Give me 23 days to make Christmas a happy time for you again. Three weeks. We’ll do two small things a week, and one big thing on the weekend. Today is Friday, so the first big activity can be tomorrow. There are two more weekends between now and Christmas Eve. The last big thing will be on Christmas Eve. If your thoughts on the holiday aren’t changed by midnight on Christmas Day, I’ll tone down the holiday cheer next year. Deal?”

“Alright.” You can see that he senses the hesitancy in your voice, but he doesn't say anything. Just reaches his hand out towards you, waiting for you to take it in a handshake. ‘This is certainly going to be interesting.’ You have no idea what he could possibly have planned, but you're curious.

You slept in the next morning, which felt amazing. You honestly expected Chris to wake you up early for his big adventure, but you were damn glad he didn't. Taking your time in getting up, you finally crawl out of bed to brush your teeth before emerging from your room. Your first stop would be the kitchen, you need coffee. As soon as you hit the end of the hallway, a mug sat on the counter, still steaming. You couldn't help the smile that graced your lips at the sight. 

Chris had made a habit of setting your coffee out for you before he went to the gym. It was a small thing, but it always made your heart skip. Now that he wasn't home, you could let yourself stew in your feelings. You aren't sure when your feelings for him had changed, you just knew that they had.

Maybe it was last month when he had stayed up all night taking care of you when you had the flu. Maybe it was last year when your boyfriend had broken up with you and he had made a blanket fort in the living room and watched Disney movies with you. Perhaps it was a month after starting school and you had to miss a week of class, only to come back to a set of notes he had taken for you. You couldn't be certain.

You bumble around the apartment, looking for things to do. You had to admit, even though you hate Christmas and anything to do with it, you were excited to see what Chris had planned. You doubted he could actually change your mind, but it was better to not tell him that.

Thinking back to your life before Chris, your thoughts landed on the reason you hate this goddamn holiday. Your father. Waking up on Christmas morning only to find him nowhere in sight and your mother in shambles. You were sixteen. He had left a note explaining that he had found a new life, one that didn't include you or your mother. Prick. That had solidified your hatred. You struggled to pick up the pieces of your mother’s broken heart, and after a while you had succeeded, but there was still a void.

She had eventually remarried once you had gone off to school, and while she was happy with the way her life turned out, you were still angry. Still hurt. Still hated Christmas. You love your stepfather dearly, but the memory of that shitty Christmas morning still reigns supreme. 

The jingling of keys brought you out of your angry thoughts. The door opened and there was your best friend, the object of your unknown affections. He was still sweaty from his intense workout. ‘Fuck. He really is going to give me a heart attack one of these days.’ Your stomach was doing flips. He looked so good. Biting your lip, you admire him for a moment longer before calling out to him.

“Thanks for the coffee.” He turns to you, eyes wide, obviously startled. You suppress a giggle, knowing it would only make him pout at your amusement. “No need for thanks, pretty girl.” There goes your stomach again, your heart joining its waltz of emotion. Pet names aren't a new thing for him, it's something he's done for months now, but it still affects like it had the very first time. 

“So, what's the big activity you have planned?” You watch as he kicks off his shoes, making sure to place them neatly on the shoe rack you keep next to the door. He tsks at you as he makes his way to stand in front of you. “Nope. Not a chance. It's a surprise.” An immediate pout comes across your face, causing a loud laugh from the man in front of you. Your pout only deepens. Before you realize what is happening, Chris reaches forward, squishing your cheeks in his hand and leaning closer. “No pouting. I'm gonna shower and we can go.” He lets go of your face and leans back, smirking a bit as he turns and walks down the hall. “Make sure to wear something warm!” His loud voice rings out through the apartment, and you sigh, getting up to go get dressed.

This is not what you expected. To be fair, you don't really know what you expected, but an ice skating rink wasn't it. Chris must be able to see the confusion on your face, because he laughs and reaches for your hand. “Ice skating is an important part of the holiday season.” This is news to you. 

His hand doesn't leave yours as he pulls you towards the small building that houses the skate rentals. After a moment of waiting in line, you step up to the counter, pulling your wallet out to pay. “The hell do you think you're doing?” Chris has a serious face as he looks at you with furrowed brows. “Paying?” You didn't mean for your words to come out as a question. He shakes his head adamantly, gently pushing your arm back. ‘Should have known. Always has to pay.’ Every time he does this, your mind briefly wonders if you're on a date, but you always shake that thought away. 

Stepping onto the ice is always a little scary. It's not like you've never gone ice skating, but you always feel a bit rusty after not going for a while. You watch as Chris glides around the rink once before making his way back to you. He's so graceful as he skates. It's like there's nothing he can't do. His arms reach out towards you as he comes closer, beckoning you to start moving in his direction. 

Both of his hands clasp yours, pulling you into his chest. Despite the temperature, he's warm. He's always so damn warm. You pull your head back to look up at him, his eyes already focused on you. Getting lost in his eyes is so easy. It's like second nature. Your gazes stay locked for what feels like forever before you break the contact first, both visually and physically. 

As you shuffle backwards on your skates, you notice Chris drop his arms to his side. You're looking at your feet so you don't notice the disappointment that crosses his face. You turn, slowly skating off, trying to get the hang of it again. 

Chris joins you only a second later, giving you a slight nudge. “Wanna race?” He's wearing his signature smile, an eyebrow cocked. This is a bad idea. You know this is a bad idea. That doesn't stop you at all. “You're on!” You're moving forward before you finish the sentence.

“Are you ok?” Uninjured, yes. Mortified, also yes. Chris helps you off of the ice as you nod. You got too confident. He had been closing in on you almost immediately. Then, a child moved into your path. Down on your ass you went. “Need to step off the ice for a minute?” You give him an affirmative, you just need a little bit of a breather. 

The two of you step off the ice, not even bothering to take your skates off, you don't plan to be off the ice long. Chris walks you to a bench, making sure you're sat and comfortable before he walks away. He doesn't speak before he leaves, leaving you confused. You watch his back as the distance between you greatens, watching him stop and a tiny stand at the edge of the area.

He comes back with two cups in his hands, handing one to you. “Hot chocolate?” He nods, giving you a big smile, and the butterflies fly away again. “Figured it'd help warm you up, since, y’know, you ate shit and now your ass is cold.” His tone is teasing and a smirk plays on his lips. You give him a playful shove, telling him to shut up and his laughter fills the air. “Gonna need a massage?” His eyebrows wiggle and you almost spit the drink out. Once you finish your drink, he grabs your hand again, leading you back to the ice. The next two hours are filled with laughter and teasing as you skate hand in hand. 

You dream of ice skating with Chris. The holiday spirit creeps at the edge of your soul.

It's four days later that you come home to notice things are different. The tree is gone. You have a brief moment of giddiness, immediately feeling bad. You told yourself that you're going to try. It isn't fair to Chris if he goes through all of this trouble for you to refuse to try.

“Chris? Are you home?” You hear shuffling coming from the back half of the apartment. The Adonis of a man comes from his room, gray sweatpants hanging low on his hips, pulling a black muscle shirt over his head. You can see the ridges that adore his chest and stomach. It makes your mouth dry and your panties wet.

“Great, you're home. It's time for the first small activity.” You look around, trying to figure out what he has planned. It takes a bit, but you finally notice the Christmas tree messing put on top, not in, it's box. Your eyes flicking to your best friend, raising an eyebrow in question. 

“Yepp. First up, we put the tree up and decorate it together.” You suppress a sigh. This used to be one of your favorite things to do for Christmas, second only to baking cookies. You give him a small smile and a nod and the way his face lights up makes every grievance you have about doing this fly out of the window. 

Chris sets the tree up while you sort the decorations and untangle the lights. He had tangled them back up so you could get the “full experience.” Admittedly, that made you the tiniest bit happy. Just that he had thought of everything, even something as small as untangling lights. After he has the tree in its place, he steps away and grabs his phone, turning it to the radio station for the college. You give him a side eye and he laughs. “I may be off today, but I still support my team.”  The radio station is Chris’ baby. He’s always loved music, he says it has helped him through his darkest times. 

Of course Jisung is playing Christmas music right now, you suspect Chris had something to do with that since it isn’t a normal occurrence this early in the month. Footsteps coming your way clue you in that he has decided to make his way over to where you are. His arms come around you from behind, giving you a soft squeeze. He breathes a soft laugh into your ear as he watches you fight the strand of lights. “Here, let me help.” He rests his chin on your shoulder, his nimble fingers making quick work of the knots. You can’t help but focus on the way his hands move, god you want them inside of you.

The next hour or so is spent making sure every ornament is in the perfect place, not too close together, but not too far apart. The music, which has since switched from Christmas tunes, plays softly in the background. Every now and then, Jisung’s voice cuts through the speaker, usually to make some sort of joke or answer a question that was sent in. You’re distracted with making sure the tree is perfect that you don’t notice the way your roommate stands off to the side, watching you intently, a smile on his face and his eyes twinkling.

The rest of your week drags on. Your thoughts are muddled and all over the place. You’ve been happier than you normally are this time of year, and you know Chris’ plan is working. You can’t tell if it’s because of doing the activities you haven’t done in years, or if it’s because you're doing them with him. You think it may be the latter, though. Friday finally rolls around and after classes and your shift at the campus bookstore, you’re absolutely beat. You trudge through your front door, set on getting a shower and going to bed. 

Chris should still be at the radio station, he tends to work later on Fridays. It occurs to you that some self care may be in order, you could definitely use a good orgasm to make you feel better. With your mind made up, you grab your pajamas and your waterproof vibrator, quickly making your way to the bathroom. 

The steam from the hot water fills the room and it instantly makes you relax just a little. Your shoulders are loosening up more every second you spend undressing. The stream of water hits your skin and an involuntary sigh escapes your lips. You stand under the falling water for a few moments, letting the warmth seep into your skin. Almost absent mindedly, you reach for your vibrator, clicking it to the lowest setting.You run your free hand down your body, stopping at your breast to fondle and pinch your nipple. You let a soft gasp and you bring the toy to your clit, just barely grazing it, teasing yourself. 

The more tension that escapes you, the more you indulge yourself. You replace your vibrator with the shower head, the pressure hitting just the right spot. You slide the toy through your folds, down to your entrance, sliding it into your pussy slowly. The sound you make is louder this time, and you aren’t worried about the noise. It’s just you in the apartment and you need this. You fuck yourself faster, making sure to keep the pressure on your clit as you change the angle of your hand so the tip of the vibrator hits your sweet spot. 

Your orgasm is approaching faster than you thought it would, but you’re absolutely fine with it. Clicking the vibration setting up one notch, you throw your head back against the tile of the shower wall. You release a drawn out moan, your hips bucking slightly into the toy, chasing your high. Right as the dam is about to break, you click the setting button to the highest setting. You crash head first into your orgasm. Whimpers and whines fall from your mouth as you ride out your high, biting your lip to keep yourself from moaning out your best friend’s name.

The next day comes earlier than you thought it would, mostly because you’re woken up to a loud voice. “Good morning, pretty girl! Rise and shine.” ‘Choke, you happy bastard.’ You feel bad for your immediate thought, but as you roll over and take a look at your clock, you feel slightly less bad. “Christopher. It is 8am. What the actual fuck?” The only response you get is a smile and the feeling of blankets being ripped off of you. You fix your gaze on him, giving him the harshest death glare you can manage at this time of day, which doesn’t appear to bother him a bit. “Up, woman. We have things to do. If I don’t hear the sink running in 5 minutes, I’m dragging you out of bed myself.” ‘This is going to be a long fucking day.’ 

Your hands are on the handle of the shopping cart while Chris holds on to the basket. He directs the cart himself, you’re essentially just there for appearances, you guess. He stopped to get you a coffee, a peace offering, which you had accepted. But that doesn’t mean your mood has drastically improved. He looks great, he always does, but today he’s glowing more than usual. ‘Stupid, beautiful, perfect man. How are you this chipper this early? You barely sleep.’ 

You watch as he grabs drinks and snacks, still having no idea what is going on. He had refused to tell you anything on the drive to the supermarket, didn’t want to”ruin the holiday spirit surprise”, whatever that means. Once he deems there are enough items in the cart, he directs the two of you to the checkout counter. You don’t even bother pulling out your wallet, knowing it wouldn’t do any good. Chris pays, oblivious to the way the cashier is making googly eyes at him. 

After loading everything into the car, he opens the door for you, giving you a peck on the forehead. That causes you to duck your head to hide the blush that forms across your cheeks. You watch as he jogs around to the trunk, opening it and digging around for a second before he closes it and makes his way to the driver’s door. He turns to you as he’s buckling his belt, his voice soft. “Take yourself a nap, pretty. We have a bit of a drive ahead of us.” You give him a look, one which he ignores. ‘Where the hell is this crazy man taking me?’ You doze off before you can even think of a possible answer.

“Y/n. Wake up. We’re here.” The gentle swaying of your body coaxes you awake, your eyes automatically squinting to avoid the sun. Chris is already out of the car, already holding your door open. He takes your hand and helps you out of the car, pausing to let you stretch. He silently takes your hand, tugging gently, urging you to follow him. Your nose meets his back as he stops suddenly. You let out a tiny huff, rubbing your nose while he apologizes. “I’m sorry! I just forgot something!” He takes your hands away from your face to inspect you, making sure your nose isn’t bleeding, and presses a soft kiss to the tip. “Can you close your eyes for me? Please?” You do as he says without hesitation. “Good girl.” You shiver.

When you finally come to a stop, you guess that you must be inside somewhere. You can’t feel the sun on your skin, and the temperature has dropped slightly. You hear him shuffling around and as much as you want to see what’s going on, you keep your eyes closed. When he finally comes back to you, he grabs both of your hands and pulls you a little further forward. He drops your hands, and you feel him behind you, wrapping you up in his warmth. “Open.” You slowly lift your eyelids, both confused and in awe by what you see.

You’re in a barn, a blanket thrown across the ground. Pillows lay on the blanket, surrounded by the snacks and drinks you had gotten at the store. Everything is facing a wall, where a large projector screen hangs, the title screen for A Christmas Story paused on the screen. You hate cheesy Christmas movies, even when you liked Christmas. A Christmas Story is different, you could watch it all year round. Tears prick the corner of your eyes. No one has ever gone through such great lengths for you. “Chris…” Your voice breaks off and your best friend pulls you back into his chest and sets his chin on your shoulder. “Come on, let’s lay down. I brought an extra blanket to cover up with. I know how easily you get cold. There’s also more pillows in case the ground gets too hard.” You quickly spin around in his arms, latching your hands around his shoulders in a tight hug. “Thank you.” You feel him place a soft kiss on your hair. 

Feeling happy and content, you press play.

“What has you in such a good mood?” You direct your attention to Hyunjin. He’s looking at you like you’re some sort of impostor. “What do you mean? I’m just in a good mood.” He scrunches his face like he’s just smelled something awful. “Y/n, it’s December. Today marks exactly two weeks until Christmas. In the two years I have known you, you have never just been in a good mood for no reason this close to Christmas.” 

He’s right. You know that he’s right. You aren’t usually in an outright bad mood, but you certainly aren’t in a good mood for no reason. “Maybe I’m just having a good day.’ Your words come out in a mumble, you know they don’t sound convincing. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain Aussie, would it?” You knew you shouldn’t have told Hyunjin about your feelings for Chris. In your defense, you didn’t tell him. He just seemed to read your mind and then you couldn’t deny it.

“Shut up.” You’re grumbling now, not liking that you’ve been so easily read. You can see the smug grin on Hyunjin’s face. He knows he’s hit the nail on the head and you just want to smack him. “We made a deal. He’s trying to get me over the Christmas hate. I’m not saying it’s working,” It is. “I’ve just been having alot of fun. You watch your friend’s eyes widen before the cocky smile is back on his face. “You guys are so gonna fuck.” That one finally earns him the smack.

 It’s Thursday by the time you realize you haven’t had your small adventure this week, and you're surprised how sad you are about it. You’ve been pouting for two days because there has been no holiday fun. That thought alone makes you want to vomit. You definitely did not expect this. You? Wanting to do Christmasy stuff? Yuck. 

The bookstore is quiet, which isn’t unusual, but it gives your thoughts too much power. Is it time to let go? You assume it is, but you aren’t sure if you’re fully ready. It sounds dumb, but if you stay angry, you focus on that instead of the hurt. It’s starting to fade, though. Finally. You’ve thought for years that if you just pretended that Christmas didn’t exist, you’d move on. But, you guess you were going about it the wrong way. Maybe you do need to embrace the season. 

The bell above the door rings, signaling that someone has entered the store. You face the door, seeing your best friend walking in, stomping the snow off of his shoes. You give him a wave, a bright smile on your face, getting larger the closer he gets to you. “You don’t have much longer, right?” You shake your head, tilting it slightly to the side. He reads you like a book. “It’s time for our second mini adventure.” Your heart feels lighter.

There’s flour everywhere. It’s in your hair, it’s in his hair, it’s on the ceiling. The kitchen is a mess.

As soon as you had gotten home, Chris led you to the kitchen, where an array of cookie cutters were laid out on the counter. You didn’t even try to hide your smile. “Welcome to Bang’s Bakery.” You let out a snort at his customer service voice, his giggle filling the air around you. “We got snowmen, gingerbread men, Santa. You name it, we got it.” You immediately drift toward the metal shaped like a snowman, while Chris grabs the Santa cutter. 

The first batch of cookies turned out…not the greatest. You had gotten lost in a dance party, letting them stay in the oven for too long. The second batch was better, but had almost zero flavor. The third batch is where things took a turn. 

You had spilled the flour while trying to pour it into a measuring cup, a cloud coming from the plop it made on the counter. Chris let out a howl of laughter as he noticed your face covered in the remnants of the cloud. This just wouldn’t stand. No way. You hadn’t even taken a millisecond to think before reaching into the bag. A puff of flour hit Chris directly in the face. That shut him up. Briefly. He recovered quickly, a sly smile coming to his face. ‘Oh god, what have I done?’ 

He was on you before you knew it, fighting you for the bag of flour. There was no way you were going down without a full fight. You had snatched your arms back, turning to make a run for it. The flour stuck again. There was a white patch on the floor, which had somehow gotten mixed with some form of liquid. Your feet slid out from under you, causing you to hit the floor. The bag flew into the air, turned upside down and covered both you and Chris. 

He slid to the floor beside you, both of you in hysterics. Your sides were hurting from laughing so hard. “Y’ok?” His question came out in between him trying to catch his breath. You couldn’t even answer, too lost in the joy you’re feeling. He goes silent all of a sudden, his hands coming to cup your face to get your attention. You stare at each other, neither of you speaking. His eyes dart between yours and your lips. Just as you both lean in, his phone rings, You jump apart as he gets up to answer. “Bin needs me at the station. I’m gonna shower and head out.” You give him a stiff nod and he turns to walk down the hallway.

The weekend brings rain. Rain brings this weekend’s activity inside. Chris won’t tell you what he had originally planned, all he told you was that he had to make due with what he had. That explained absolutely nothing. 

A Christmas movie marathon. That was the backup plan. There was a slight disagreement on whether or not Die Hard is a Christmas movie, ‘it is’, but Chris disagrees. ‘He’s wrong.’ After that minor setback, the marathon is in full swing. The two of you are cuddled up under a blanket and you each have a mug of hot chocolate while Home Alone plays on the screen. Neither of you have brought up what happened after the flour fight, you aren’t even sure how you approach the subject. 

You somehow move from cuddling side by side to you laying on his chest. You aren’t complaining, it feels right. It feels like this is where you are supposed to be. Your eyes start to get heavy when Chris starts to play with your hair. Your nose is filled with his cologne and your heart is full of love.

Time seems to both speed up and slow down the closer you get to Christmas. Four days. That’s all you have left. It feels good to not be dreading the day. You feel more light and carefree than you have in years. Chris had texted you earlier today, giving you strict instructions.

Cutie with a booty: lay a sheet down on the living room floor and make sure to wear comfy clothes that aren’t super important to you. No, I won’t tell you what we’re doing. Don't even ask.

So here you were, sitting on the floor in an old shirt from highschool and some ripped sweats you’ve been meaning to throw away, waiting for Chris to get home. Just as you’re about to call and ask where he is, you hear a key enter the lock. Chris comes in with shopping bags full of stuff, though you can’t tell what it is. “I hope you have your crafty cap on!” You look at him like he just spoke gibberish.”My fucking what?” The man snorts so hard that he almost drops the bags. 

He sets all of the bags down on the sheet, plopping himself down afterwards. He reaches over, grabbing the bags and dumping the contents onto the sheet. Glue stick, cotton balls, glitter. All kinds of arts and crafts supplies, along with two plain red stockings. “We’re decorating stockings for each other. And no, you can not draw a penis on my stocking.” ‘Damn, He got me.’ You’re immediately hit with what you want to put on his stocking, confident that he’ll love it. 

The two of you work in silence, both concentrated on your art. Chris is using a lot of glitter and  a lot of black marker and you honestly have no idea what he could be doing. Looking down at your creation, you cringe slightly. You are in no way an artist, but you’re hoping he’ll at least be able to tell what your vision is. You grab your phone, needing a reference picture. Chris looks at you briefly, a disapproving look on his face.  “Calm down, I just need a reference picture.” His look changes to confused, but you just wave him off.

An hour later, both stockings are ready and hiding behind your backs. “I'll go first. This is about you enjoying Christmas, after all.” He reaches behind him, the stocking in his hands when they come back to the front of his body. He hands you the fabric and you observe it. Your name is written across the top in purple glitter, a heart on each side. In the center sits two penguins. They're facing each other, holding each other’s flippers. In between them is a pebble. You want to cry. You do cry.

“Chris. It's perfect.” He scoots toward you, his thumb coming to wipe away your tears. “Aww don't cry.” You let him know that it's a cry of happiness as you pull yourself together. It's your turn now and you turn slightly grabbing your gift. You extend your arms, watching him take in what you've made.

LIke him, you’ve written something across the top, but it isn’t his name. ‘RooBoo’ is written in blue glitter, with pink layering over the top. You’ve used the gold glitter to attempt to draw a kangaroo, though it doesn’t really look like one. Same goes for the koala. In between the two animals, the shape of Australia is drawn and shimmering in green and gold. You bite your lip anxiously, waiting for his reaction. Nothing happens. He just stares. You start to worry that he doesn’t understand what it’s supposed to be, or worse, doesn’t like it. 

All at once, he surges forward. He buries his face in your neck and wraps his arms around your waist. He just stays like that, not moving, not saying anything. You bring your arms around him, rubbing his back. You can feel moisture on your neck and it’s only then that you notice his soft shudders. “Chris?” You try to pull back to get a look at him, but he tightens his grip so you can’t go anywhere. “You have no idea how much that means to me. Thank you so fucking much.” His voice is barely above a whisper, but you hear him anyway. You place a kiss on his forehead and you two stay that way for a while longer.

Christmas Eve. The last day of your little deal, you’re beyond ready to admit to Chris that he had won during week two, but you want to see what his final surprise is. Knowing him, he’s going all out for this one. He’s out all day, and you’re pacing around waiting for his return. Around 6:30pm, you get a call. It’s short and to the point. “Be ready in an hour, dress cute but warm. I won’t be home until it’s time to pick you up. See you then, pretty girl.” He doesn’t even give you a chance to answer, he just hangs up. How dare he only give you an hour, you have to shower, do your hair, pick an outfit, there’s no way you can do all of that in an hour. 

You manage to do it in 50 minutes, which you are very proud of by the way. Your hair is down, nothing fancy, but you know that Chris likes it like this. Your outfit is simple, a red and striped sweater, jeans and a coat. It may not look like the warmest choice, but you know you’ll be warm enough. There’s a knock on the door, which you find odd. Opening the door slowly, a mess of brown curly hair comes into view. Chris stands at your shared door, a bouquet in his hand. His hair is in its natural state, your absolute favorite look on him. He’s absolutely breathtaking. All you can do is stare. “Are you ready to go, sweetheart?” ‘Oh. Oh, that’s a new one.” Your heart beats in triple time, your stomach is a roller coaster. A nod is literally all you can manage. Your brain is telling your feet to move, your feet are not listening. 

You finally will yourself to move, with much help from Chris since he took you by your hand after putting the flowers in a vase with water. The elevator ride is tense, but not in a bad way. You want to latch yourself to his side and never leave. And like he tends to do, he somehow reads your mind, pulling you into him and placing a kiss on your forehead, this one lingering a little longer than usual. When the doors open, he doesn’t remove his arm from your shoulder as he takes a step. Through the glass door of the lobby, you can see snow lightly falling. It’s beautiful.

A slight breeze hits your face as you step outside. You swivel your head, looking for Chris’ car. “We’re not driving anywhere, pretty.” You look at him, confusion written on your face, causing him to giggle and tip his head toward the park not far from your apartment building. ‘Oh! A walk in the park!’ You smile at the thought of just walking hand in hand around the park in the snow. Though, you’re just happy to spend Christmas Eve with your best friend. A small pang of hurt rushes through you at the thought that he is still only your best friend. Maybe you’ll finally confess at midnight.

Just outside the entrance to the park, there is a horse drawn sleigh. There are people circling around it, and as much as you want to pet the horse, you don’t want to fight your way through a crowd. Chris seems to have a different idea, though. He pulls you directly to the sleigh, letting go of your hand long enough to tell the driver his name and show the man his ID. He takes your hand again, leading you to the side of the sleigh. “After you.” You stand there gawking at him for a moment, his smile never faltering. He helps you into the sleigh, lifting the blanket that’s placed on the seat so the two of you can slide under it. 

The view of the park tonight is unlike anything you have ever seen. There are Christmas lights strung up through the trees. Soft instrumental versions of Christmas songs play through the speakers placed around. There are families playing in the snow, lovers dancing around the lake. The whole park is a magical place. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” His voice draws your attention to him, making eye contact. “Chris, this is amazing. Everything is so beautiful. How did you do this?” His smile widens at your words. “I cheated a little. There was an ad at the radio station. We were supposed to be the first to announce it. I called and booked the first ride before I read the ad.” Your laughter is the loudest sound in the park, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. Of course he used the station. 

He slings his arm around you when your head lands on his shoulder and brings you closer to him. You’re close to sitting in his lap at this point. “Chris.” “Y/n.” You speak at the same time and you both giggle. You playfully argue over who should go first, and Chris finally takes the spotlight. 

“I said that I was spending this month trying to get you to like Christmas again, and I meant that. But that was a minor part of everything I’ve done. I wanted you to know what it’s like to be loved, genuinely loved, on Christmas. I know this time of year is hard for you, and understandably so, but I want you to know that you have someone who is here for you. You have someone who will never leave. You have someone that loves you more than words could ever explain. I love you, Y/n. I just wanted you to feel that love.”

You have no words. You have tears, but no words. You have tears, no words, and your lips on his.

You feel like you're floating. Are your feet on the ground? You don’t know. You can feel your hand in his, but you can’t feel your feet. And you aren’t bothered by it. Because you can feel his lips on yours. You walk through the doorway of your shared apartment, giving each other sweet kisses. It’s only when you’re fully inside with the door closed that the kisses deepen. Chris cups your face with both of his hands, one sliding up to run through your hair. You’re already in bliss. He pulls back slightly, his breath fanning across your lips. “Tell me how you want this to go, baby. We can stop here and have dinner, or we can go to my room.” You have never uttered a sentence out faster. “Your room, please. I think we’ve waited long enough, yeah?”

Before you realize what’s happening, he swoops you up into his arms, carrying you bridal style to his room, pressing his lips to yours the entire way. He doesn’t even bother closing the bedroom door behind himself, immediately moving to place you gently on his bed. You scoot yourself further up, beckoning him closer. He slowly crawls onto the bed to hover over you, his right handing coming back to your face as he leans down to kiss you again. His left hand makes a home on your hip, rubbing slow, soft circles with his thumb. There is no urgency in your shared kisses, only the need to be close and show each other the love that you feel.

You kiss until both of your lips are swollen and red and Chris finally pulls back, just to admire you. “You are beyond beautiful. I love you so much.” His words are quiet, like he’ll break the magic moment if he speaks any louder.

 “I realize I haven’t told you how I feel yet.” You take a deep breath, preparing yourself to spill your feelings. “You are the kindest, most genuine person I have ever met. You go out of your way to make sure that everyone you care about is taken care of, even if that means not taking care of yourself.” You pause briefly, giving him a look. “We’ll talk about taking better care of you later.” He giggles as he presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “When we met, I had no idea how important you would become to me, and now that I know, I never want to not have you here. And I’m not worried that I’ll have to deal with that. You have given me more hope and love than I ever thought possible and I am so fucking in love with you.”

The kiss you receive in response is softer than the others and you aren’t sure how that is possible. You can feel every ounce of care this man holds for you in the barely there kiss. It makes your head spin. Slowly, his lips travel from yours down to your neck, sucking softly at the skin. You arch into him, gasping at how good it feels just to have his lips on you. His kisses travel lower, stopping at the edge of your sweater. “Can I take this off of you, babygirl?” You clench around nothing at the pet name, and of course Chris notices. He notices everything about you. 

You give him a nod and his hands slowly pull the sweater over your head, his eyes locked on yours as he removes it completely. Out of instinct, your hands move to cover yourself, but he grabs them before they make contact with your breasts. “Please don’t hide from me, my love. I want to see all of you. You’re so pretty.” Something churns inside of you at his compliments and you will yourself to keep your arms down. He trails his eyes down your chest, zeroing in on the fabric of your bra. He lifts his eyes back to yours, a silent question swirling in his brown irises. You give him a firm nod, not wanting him to sense any hesitation. You have no hesitation.

You reach around and unclasp your bra, bringing the straps down your shoulder until the garment falls onto your lap. “Fuck.” His voice is strained and you can hear the lust in his tone. But you can also hear the love. His hands rise to your chest, thumbs flicking over your nipples slowly. You let out a soft moan, biting your lip. His touch doesn’t linger for long, moving down to the top of your jeans. “Do you still want to keep going, baby? We don’t have to.” You love how he checks in with you before doing anything, it makes you feel so comfortable, like your comfort is more important than his desire. And you know that that is exactly how he feels.

“Chris, please.” The whine in your voice seems to do something to him because he groans as he begins to unbutton your jeans. While his hands are occupied removing you from the confines of your clothes, his lips press against your stomach. He takes his time with you and even though you’re soaked at this point, you don’t dare try to rush him. You can tell that he wants to worship you, and you intend to let him. His lips touch every new piece of skin that is revealed, not wanting to leave any part of you untouched. He leans back to take in the view of you. Your hair is slightly messy from his hands running through it. Your cheeks are flushed as you lay there in only your panties. You buck your hips up at him once and his hands immediately move to take the ruined fabric off. 

Once you’re bare beneath him, you gain a little confidence, spreading your legs so he can see your core. He outright moans at the sight. You can see his cock straining against his jeans, it’s big, that much you can tell. Your hole clenches at the thought of taking him, and again he takes notice. “What dirty thoughts are you thinking to have you clenching like that, babygirl?” The name makes you clench again and he smirks. “Oh? Y’like that do you? Like when I call you babygirl?” You spread your legs further apart as give him a nod, another groan coming from the gorgeous man in front of you.

“Yes, Daddy.” You stiffen. You have no idea where that came from. Never have you called a man daddy in bed, but for some reason, it felt so right that it just slipped out. Chris growls at that and you know you’ve found a weak spot for him. “Look at my pretty baby, all wet for me. Daddy’s gonna take good care of you, babygirl.” He lowers himself to the floor, grabbing at your ankles and slowly pulling your core toward his face. “Still good, baby?” Another nod from you and he presses a kiss to your clit. The contact has you arching into him, your obvious pleasure making his tongue dart out of his mouth to taste you. 

You try to keep your moans down as he devours you. You have a hand in his hair, not pulling, simply running your fingers through it. He alternates between circling your clit with his tongue and slipping the muscle inside of you, ending the pattern with a suck to your clit. The pleasure is overwhelming. It’s too much and it’s not enough. Your moans increase slightly in volume, until Chris stops his lovely attack on your pussy.

“Let me hear you, baby. I know you can do better than that. I heard you in the shower, you sounded so fucking beautiful. The best song I’ve ever heard.” You know you should be embarrassed, but you aren’t. His words only cause a new wave of arousal and a loud moan to escape you. “That’s it. There’s my good girl.” Another clench. Chris chooses this moment to slide a finger into you, curving it instantly, looking for the soft spot inside of you. He knows he’s found it when you buck your hips up and groan and he moves his face back down to lick at you more.

The combination of his tongue and fingers turn out to be deadly. You’re rapidly approaching your high. “Chris, please. I’m so close.” He picks up the pace of his fingers, pressing into your sweet spot on every thrust. Your moans flow out of you now, even if you wanted to stop them, you wouldn’t be able to. “There we go. Come on, babygirl. You can do it. Cum for me, cum for Daddy.” Your vision blurs, stars explode from your peripherals. Chris helps you ride out your orgasm before slowly pulling his fingers from you. “Can you open up for me, sweetheart?” Your mouth opens without you having to tell it to, and his fingers find their way onto your tongue. “Suck. See how good you taste.” You obey him without pause, moaning at the taste of yourself on his fingers.

He pulls his fingers from your mouth, moving them down to the button of his jeans, while the other hand reaches towards the nightstand for a condom. You reach out and grab his wrist, shaking your head. “Wanna feel you. All of you.” You can see his eyes glaze over with lust, but he still asks if you’re sure. You nod, you don’t think you’ve ever been so sure of something in your life. He moves with a little more haste as he kicks his pants off. “Holy shit.” You didn’t mean to say the words out loud, but one look at his cock has your mouth watering, but it also has you wondering if it’s going to fit. He has one hand slowly stroking himself, moving closer to your cunt, sliding himself through your folds. “Relax for me, love. All you have to do is relax and let me in.”

He pushes into you slowly, a deep, drawn out groan coming from his throat. A high pitched whine leaves you at the same time, a harmony of pleasure. Once he’s fully sheathed inside of you, he pauses, not moving. “Fuck, baby. You’re so tight. Fit me perfectly. Cunt was made for daddy’s cock, huh?” All you can do is nod and whine, and bring your legs to wrap around his waist. You manage to buck your hips slightly, trying to get him to move. He pulls his hips back slowly, pulling out until only the tip of his cock is resting inside of you. He shoves his cock back into you all at once, not too roughly, but making sure to hit deep. 

Your body moves into a deep arch at his thrusts, all hitting the spongy part inside of you perfectly. You’re already working your way to another orgasm. “Feel so good, baby. So glad I get to have you like this. Love you so much.” His thrusts start to speed up and you can tell that he’s holding himself back, wanting you to finish one more time before he lets himself go. “I’m close, sweet girl. Think you can come for me one more time? Come with me this time?” Tears are pricking the edges of your eyes and you quickly nod. “So close. So close, Love you. So close.” Your words come out jumbled, but you think Chris understands. He speeds up a little more, the both of you moaning in time with each other. Chris leans down so his mouth is right next to your ear. “Now, baby. Come now. I love you. You can do it.” You cum with a cry of his name, your pussy clamping down on his cock sends him into his own orgasm, groaning as he fills you.

You’re both panting by the time you come down. Chris slowly pulls out slowly, watching his seed dribble out of your spent hole. His hand twitches like he wants to push it back inside of you, but he doesn’t. He turns and leaves, you can hear the faucet running in the bathroom. He comes back with a warm cloth, carefully cleaning you up and adding a kiss to your forehead. He helps you up, walking with you to the bathroom so you can pee. When you emerge from the bathroom, he’s standing by the door with a bottle of water. He really is perfect.

Once you get back to his room, he gives you a shirt of his to wear to bed. “Need me to go get underwear from your room?” His thoughtfulness makes you smile. “Nah. Don’t need ‘em.” He smirks at that, knowing that you mean that this will lead to morning sex and he’s all for it. He joins you on his bed again, pulling you into his arms. “So, it’s midnight. How are you feeling about Christmas?” You’re silent for a moment, thinking of what you want to say. Pulling back to look at him, you smile.

“It’s the most wonderful time of the year.”

#16 days of smutmas 2023 #cultofdionysusnet #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids fluff #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #bang chan scenarios #bang chan imagines #bang chan fanfiction #bang chan fanfic #bang chan fluff #bang chan smut #bang chan x reader

[punksocks]

Astrology Observations: No.25

*just based on my personal observations, only take what resonates

Omg my first degree theory observation was wrong Danial Kwan has moon at 18 degree, a Virgo degree ! (My bad y’all I’m learning). I’ll say that he had to get a hold of his mental health while in Covid and his adult adhd diagnosis and that influenced the writing of everything all at once (Imma learn this lol, more studying must be done)

Ok better degree theory lol, the degree of your Venus and/or mars can show placements you attract. My Venus is at a cancer degree and I’ve dated a l o t of people with Cancer placements (an experience lol)

A guy’s Lilith can show that his sort of femme fatale attraction (type of girl that overstimulates him, makes him feel enamored but is also his weakness.) His Lilith placement can describe this femme in more detail. For Aries, a go getter that takes no shit (I believe @zeldasnotes said Lilith in Aries in a man’s chart is a strong indicator that he’s a feminist and I totally agree.); For Sagittarius she’d be untethered and have a great sense of humor and may be outside of his culture. For Aquarius she’d be idealized as a manic pixie dream girl, like quirky in a way he could never figure out. let me know if you all would like a whole post on this !

Only outer planets (Uranus, Neptune, Pluto) in your 1st can give you an extra ordinary appearance and make you stand out quite a bit.

Your mars conjunct to someone’s sun can make them feel competitive with you. Venus on the other hand can make you put the sun person on a sort of pedestal and can make the relationship feel like you’re a fan of the sun person. Moon to someone’s sun can feel more at home and at ease.

Men with water Venuses seem to be super monogamous or like incapable of monogamy (which is fine lol, but be ethical about it and establish boundaries and don’t cheat yo)

12th house synastry is sticky asl, as soon as you moved on someone just appears on your mind out of nowhere, lotta hidden energy all tied up together; 8th house synastry is really intense but it’s often hard to build something stable out of the intensity. 4th house feels like home, but as someone with Uranus over their 4th, I associate this synastry with being unpredictable and chaotic in familiar way. 5th and 11th house synastry tends to be good long term. 5th house means you feel fun and creative and always excited together. And 11th house will mean that there’s a feeling of friendship underneath the passion that usually sustains the connection imo.

For all of the seriousness associated with Capricorn placements (especially suns) often focus on a lot on whimsy in their creative works, like it’s the outlet for a lot of their hidden optimism (Hayao Miyazaki, Nobuhiko Obayashi the director of Hausu).

Ok ok I know Scorpio risings are known for intense, bedroom eyes and their overwhelming s*x appeal and making suitors flee because they’re so intimidated etc etc… but quietly I think our biggest weapon that people don’t see coming is our sense of humor. (Honest to god I was thinking of how funny Hugh Grant is even though he doesn’t need to be bc he’s been so handsome this whole time lol. He always puts in the effort into that comedic timing) (Also people still think if you’re hot and intense you can’t be funny so it defuses some of the tension pretty well imo)

I feel like Virgo placements always seem to think they feel boring even though they’re like very knowledgeable and compelling in their own right (I’m getting all reflective and remember when like Virgo moons/mars would always ask if they’re being boring or complain about being boring but they tend to be good conversationalists when they allow themselves to analyze things so deeply)

I think cancers are actually the most defensive sign, naturally. I want to say they have this in common with their sister sign bc Capricorns are defensive and don’t like to show “weakness”. But the way that underdeveloped cancers (can) play the victim when scrutinized is different. (Like Capricorns do that earth sign thing where they use their perception to make you feel like you’re wrong, and they want to be seen as the authority not the victim). Where cancer is in your chart could show where you’re especially guarded and trying to protect your sensitivity.

To me Jupiter conjunct south node means you’ll reap benefits of good karma from a past life (or the effects of bad karma will be a lot in this lifetime but I saw this in obama’s chart and it’s a benefic planet so the first thing is what I thought of lol, he’s not a good guy but becoming the first black president of the us seems like a past life power play imo)

#sorry been super busy lately lol #but I’m back #astro observations #astro notes #astroblr #astro community #astrology #lilith astrology #venus #mars #8th house #12th house #5th house #4th house #11th house #Capricorn #cancer #Virgo #scorpio rising

[darqx]

Hi I understand if you don't reply, but I was wondering if you have any advice to beginners who want to start making their ocs a reality? (Like in the sense of having Charecters that have been in your thoughts for a while, but it's hard to encapsulate them into physical form?) As I have some that id like to make either into a game or comic but I'm a little stuck..

Also I'm curious if there will be any other content with the best boy himself rire?? : 0

Hullo! Ah, (physically) designing characters, how fun ❤️ - there is part of a reason why I only have a handful of them lol XD; ANYWAY here are three things that help me, so hopefully they can help you as well :)

(I'll use Demon!Rire as an example as unless you are an old guard of mine, he will probably be the most recognisable of my characs.)

--------------

❓What do you know about them?

First of all since you already have your character in mind, congratulations you are most of the way there already! It's helpful to know the general vibe of them. And I don't mean the super detailed things that may arise from like..."Get to know your OC" quizzes - we are more looking for the core feeling of a character here. If you dumped this character into different AUs what things are going to stay the same/similar? Some things you should consider are:

What is their personality like? Why do they do the things they do?

Do I already have any physical traits for them in mind? Hair/eye/skin colour? Body type? Age? Name??

📝 Write a simple paragraph or some dot points about your character with these things in mind.

---EXAMPLE---

Sophisticated and charming, Rire outputs an aura of power and elegance. His pleasing physical appearance and gentlemanly demeanour usually enchants or commands people. Realistically, he is extremely manipulative and sadistic, and finds entertainment in the reactions of others.

---/EXAMPLE---

🤔 Make informed choices

Ok cool, you know something about your charac! Now build upon what you know to make them real - it is important here to try and match your design choices with the characterisation and "why"s of the character, and less with what you personally think will be cool/cute/whatever. What I mean by this is just pretend they are a person you are describing to a forensic sketch artist - you are giving "facts" as to what you think they look like not making stuff up (eg you would NOT be like "oh yeh she was totally a punk rocker however i'm going to say she wore a long flowing gown cos I think she'd look prettier in it?"*)

*Note that designing a character with opposites in mind can work out if you can at least answer the cursory "why" of it being a part of the character design. For eg maybe the punk rocker is secretly the alter ego of a socialite - flowing gowns and high fashion by day, grunge by night. Like Batman.

📝 Feel free to use dress up doll games and image searches for particular types of clothes/hairstyles/etc if you need inspiration. Thumbnail a bunch of different designs and see what works.

---EXAMPLE---

In my prev example paragraph I highlighted a few things in red. Here I'll break down how they can help craft a physical appearance:

Sophisticated and charming / elegance - to me, these combined make me think of ballrooms and black tie functions and nice suits. A well tailored outfit and someone who knows how to wear them.

Gentlemanly demeanour (well to some degree lol) - since I already know he's hundreds of years old (973 to be exact) I decided that an aristocratic Victorian-esque aesthetic would suit him. Somewhere in between a modern look and something with a bit more fantasy steampunk flair. He smiles quite genially until he's doing it with all his teeth.

Aura of power - he's got to be a bit of an imposing character so he's quite tall (or at least taller than all of my other characs) and carries himself confidently. Hooray for the ability to loom. Dark colours for this character, to cut an impressive figure.

Pleasing physical appearance - kinda stereotypical type of good looks that aesthetically most people would be like "yeh he's pretty". Athletic build - muscular but not bulky, broad shoulders, tapered waist etc etc.

Extremely manipulative - first of all, he looks rather human, for a demon - his entire species is designed very particularly like that. Then there's the sunglasses. The "why" [does he wear them] is they function to hide his eyes (one of the main parts of him that give away his demon-ness), but also as a bit of a red flag to the audience that something isn't quite right with him. I mean, look past his charm and he wears them all the time. The black and yellow colour scheme also ties in as warning colours ⚠️

Put them all together and this was one of my first sketches of Demon!Rire.

*Note that I already more or less knew how he looked other than his outfit; you will probably have a lot more sketch duds as you figure out what your character looks like.

---/EXAMPLE---

🔐 Don't lock yourself in

Despite the fact I've just said "pretend your character is a person", remember you're still their creator so obviously you have final say over them. Sometimes you'll find that they grow and change from what you initially thought of them (or you just evolve in how you draw them). Don't be afraid to make the tweaks and changes that enhance these - whether they be physical or core characteristics - and you'll get closer to the true character you always had in mind.

---EXAMPLE--

I now draw Rire with a more pronounced V-shape, longer, wavier hair, and somehow he ended up with way more pronounced eyelashes than I usually draw on my male characs. Which works out quite well considering how I tend to draw his eyes. Anyway the point of this is that these things developed over time as I kept drawing him.

---/EXAMPLE---

🍀 Try it out with your own characs! Have fun and don't force yourself to try and get it "right" on the first go.

#prettyboysmakegravezz #character design #ref #character design tips #hope this is kinda helpful! #also honestly have fun aye #long post #also as for other content with rire there kinda is but he's not really the main charac lol #also who knows when that will come out im a bit pedantic planning a webcomic #sz

[navybrat817]

I’m just gonna drop a little gift here…

LOOK AT HIM SO FUCKING GORGEOUS AND HOT AND 😩😩😩😩😩

Ok love you byeeeee✌🏻

LOOK AT HIM. I say nothing is perfect and then he comes along. And are we getting a glimpse inside of Smartie's mind?

Daddy? Sorry.

Pairing: Roommate!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Word Count: Over 760 Warnings: Discussion of Bucky being d-addy. Hehe.

A/N: Stud and Smartie nonsense. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

"You know what I don't get? The 'Daddy? Sorry.' thing," you told Natasha as you waited for Bucky to join you at the cafe for lunch. It was a beautiful day to sit outside. "Is it bad that I don't get it?"

"Not bad," Natasha replied, cocking an eyebrow at you and not questioning the out of the blue topic. "But what exactly are you not getting?"

"I guess calling a guy 'Daddy'," you shrugged, adding air quotes for good measure. "I've never done it."

"So, you haven't called Bucky 'Daddy'?" she smirked.

“No, I haven’t. I just said I haven’t called anyone that,” you said, holding your chin high when her expression didn’t change.

If there was one thing you appreciated about Natasha, she never made you feel dumb or embarrassed for any candid discussions you had with her. Even when she teased you, it was all in good fun. Bucky liked that the two of you became friends, though he preferred to be your main confidant. You felt the same way about him.

“But he isn’t just anyone.”

“I know,” you smiled, glancing around to see if he arrived yet. “He’s special.”

My future husband. I just know it.

“And you’re special to him, too. Can’t have Stud without Smartie,” the redhead said as you smiled more. It was nice to hear that. “Okay. In your mind, how would you describe a Daddy?”

You snorted a bit because you couldn’t believe this was where the conversation went. Well, you brought it up. You should’ve known your friend would ask questions. She did have a way of getting people to talk.

“Besides handsome?” you asked, getting a nod in agreement. You had to think about it before you continued. “I guess someone protective and maybe a bit dominant? Not in a controlling way, but in a ‘I want to take care of you’ kind of way.”

Bucky was the most protective person you knew. It wasn’t just physically standing up for you if he felt the need to step in and defend you. He cared about your mental well-being and feelings. And while he didn’t mind you taking the lead, he was very much the more dominant of the two of you. No matter what, you knew you were his number one priority in and out of bed.

“Go on,” she urged, taking a sip as she kept her neutral gaze on you.

A small smile touched your lips as you adjusted the hoodie you were wearing. It was Bucky’s, of course. “And I guess it can be playful and affectionate, like I want to tease him. Can you imagine if I called him that in front of everyone?” you asked, giggling as you pictured a couple of expressions he might give you from hearing the nickname. “But it’s also vulnerable, in a way, because it might sound awkward if I say it and he may not like it. What matters is that I trusted him enough to say it though and he might like it.”

I trust him to tell me the truth.

“Why do you think he’d like it?”

You looked at her without an ounce of shame. “Because it's that extra bit of assurance that I’m his.”

But it also says he’s mine, right?

Natasha gave you a rare wide smile. “Sounds like you understand it just fine.”

As if he sensed the two of you were discussing him, Bucky came into view. If your friend heard you whimper, she kindly didn’t call you out on it. Maybe she was used to you gazing at Bucky Barnes like he was a work of art that you had the privilege to touch.

Your brain tried to tell your eyes to quit looking at him like a creep, but you didn’t blink. You just stared at your man and tried not to drool as you took in his tight blue sweater and pulled back hair. His stance and size screamed “power” and you suddenly wished he’d bend you over the table and take you right there. There was also a softness about him that made you want to burrow in his arms and never leave.

Daddy? Sorry. Daddy? Sorry. Daddy? Sorry. OH. I fucking get it now. Is this a new kink unlocked? Wait, is it a kink?

“Call him ‘Daddy’ and I’ll pay for lunch,” Natasha offered as Bucky spotted you both and headed to the table.

“That’s a conversation for Daddy and I to have first,” you joked.

And knowing Bucky, he’d be happy with whatever you called him.

How do we think he'd react? Love and thanks! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ KoFi

#navybrat writes #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes #roommate!bucky barnes #roommate!bucky barnes x reader #stud and smartie #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes ficlet #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au #beefy roommate au #roommate au #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x you #sparklesannie

[ellecdc]

single mom lily x fem!reader?

reader works in an ice cream shop and cute little harry (im imagining hes like 4/5???) absolutely adores the place so lily brings him in for ice cream all the time and falls for reader bc she is just so good with harry

ok here's my attempt 😮‍💨 thought this idea was so cute though!

single mum!Lily Evans x fem!reader meet cute

Lily was very lucky and very grateful that Harry had been a generally easy child. He was so much like his father that, whilst it didn't translate into the romantic relationship most parents wished to enjoy, led to a wonderful son and the best co-parent a woman could ask for.

And because Harry was such an easy-going child, she was trying very hard to stay patient with him as she frantically texted with James.

L: James Potter, where in the buggering fuck is this ice cream place that has ‘spiderman’ ice cream!? J: LOL oh god sorry. It’s on the boardwalk near the ferry. L: Thank you 😮‍💨 J: He making a fuss? L: I think we may have been moments away from a stage five meltdown. J: Thoughts and prayers 🫡

One meltdown avoided later and they were finally walking into the quaint, family owned ice cream shop on the boardwalk by the ferry, just as James described.

“Oh no!” Harry cried dramatically, holding his little hands to his face.

“What is it, Haz?” Lily asked, looking around to see what could have possibly caused such worry in a five and a half year old. 

“The man!” He explained.

Which explained nothing at all to Lily, still looking around the shop in confusion.

“What man?”

“The man with the spiderman ice cream! He’s not here!” Harry cried, turning to his mum with tears magnified by his glasses as they began pooling in his eyes.

She was racking her brain for something to say to the boy when a bubbly voice trilled from behind the glass ice cream displays.

“Hello there! What can I get for you two?” You greeted the pair with a beaming smile. If Lily wasn’t so caught up with Harry, she would have likely taken a moment to admire your radiance.

“The man!”

Lily watched as your smile fell only slightly and you tilted your head in confusion. “Which man, sweets?”

“The man with the special ice cream! He made it after my favourite superhero!” Harry cried with a stomp on his foot.

Lily pulled Harry towards her as she offered you an apologetic smile.

“I’m so sorry, he came here with his father last week and I-”

But like a beautiful ethereal angel sent from Lily’s own personal heaven, you waved her off with an easy smile. “Not to worry at all, love. My dad is the better ice cream server, so I understand your disappointment, little man.” You empathised. “But!”

Harry perked up at that, standing a little taller as he looked at you expectantly. “He did tell me that a certain hero may be coming in to look for some special spidey ice cream; could that be you?” You stage whispered the end of your sentence to Harry, causing him to squeal in delight.

“Yes!”

“Oh thank goodness.” You said with a dramatic sigh. “I thought I was going to have to erase your memory for giving away trade secrets!”

Harry squealed in excitement again and shoved his face up against the glass casing to watch you start expertly scooping ice cream, completely unawares of his fingerprints and foggy breaths creating more work for his newfound hero.

“How many scoops, my man?”

“Five!”

“Uhm,” Lily interrupted, placing a conciliatory hand on her son's shoulder. “Maybe just two.”

“Mum!” Harry whined, but you just laughed.

“Sorry kid, mum’s the boss.”

Harry acquiesced with one more groan, but grinned when he saw the size of the scoops you were serving him.

“What about you, mama?” You asked after handing Harry his cone, watching as the boy made his way to sit at a table with his red and blue ice cream.

“Is it really spiderman ice cream?” Lily blurted instead of answering your very normal, professional, and polite question.

You barked a laugh, but Lily was pleased that your laughter was because you found Lily funny rather than at her expense. 

“Between you and me,” you whispered conspiratorially, resting your arms on the glass counter and your chin on your hands. “It’s just moonmist ice cream, but this batch used too much food dye, so instead of the normal light blue, pale purple, and pastel yellow, it turned out a little more…super.”

Lily looked back to her son, happy as can be with his super ice cream as he watched boats sail by in the harbour. 

“Brilliant.” Lily whispered as she turned back to face you, only to find you smiling softly at her already.

“Yes.” You agreed, though Lily wasn’t quite sure what you found brilliant. “So, what can I get you?”

“Oh.” Lily responded dumbly, looking hastily through the options before opting for two scoops of rocky road. 

“Fine choice, m’lady.” You said before scooping, once again expertly, the frozen treat onto a cone.

“Is that what you usually get?” Lily asked suddenly. You seemed surprised at her question as your eyebrows migrated to your hairline and you looked up to consider her.

Lily hoped to all hell that her blush wasn’t as furious as it felt.

You smirked before your eyes flit back up to hers. “I’m more of a strawberry girl, myself.” You replied quietly, shooting Lily a wink.

If her blush hadn’t been furious before, she was certain it was now. 

Lily paid and Harry shot you a “thanks ice cream lady!” as they headed towards the exit with their ice creams in tow.

“You’re welcome, little man! Stay super!” You said with a wave.

“I will!” 

“Hope to see you and your mum here again soon.” You said quieter this time, sending Lily a kind albeit shy smile. Lily was certain you’d be seeing the two of them here again.

#ask elle #marauders era #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #reader insert #self insert #lily evans #lily evans x reader #lily evans x you #lily evans x fem!reader #fem!reader #wlw #baby harry #baby harry potter #ellecdc fics

[cherizzx]

Miles 42 Headcannons ( We got a man yall 🤭🤭

Miles 42x Black Reader

OK first off, THIS IS A 15/16 YEAR OLD CHILD HE BROKE AS HELL

Like he not broke broke but, hell shadow box for $5 and win ts. To me I feel he got a little money saved form how his dad taught his savings, and he got a back account because remember he's like a hitman he gets paid, but he's not like rich enough to the point he buys you like Rolex watches, Catier, Dior vintage bags from the 70's spring collection.

Next, I feel like to me evry says hes like some bad boy to me i just think hes troubled but, hes a good kid. In the first movie Miles acted the same way and in the second movie he's more mature I feel like Miles-42 matured faster since his dad died; he could never play with action figures when no action was taken to save his dad

It very sad how they describe him in fics as like a drug dealer bad kid when really, I think he's just a matured yet still goofy version of Miles like imagine Hobie attitude with miles it practically the same!

Also, more on the dating side of things Miles-42 I believe would not trust his s/o til 3 months later or even more. Miles-42 is a hitman, and he may have been taught people are going to burn your bridge when they have the chance so, Miles stays clear of really revealing his inner turmoil's til he can fully trust you.

But, when Miles does open up he's like a little flower all nice and smells good yet can still have you in the bed sick and tired if tried hard enough, I feel like his emotions would turn more gentler like he wasn't neglecting you but he kind of was condescending when you show a lot of affection and until you prove your real, hell just make the relationship picture worthy and not living worthy.

But an opinion I know people would say is true is that Miles both of them cannot flirt. Remember than most likely Miles-42 dad and Miles-1160 uncle died at or around the same time which means they both experienced the same ' I almost messed up my chances with this cool girl because my uncle/dad didn't teach me how to be a smooth criminal' but to me with how he put his hand on Miles-1160 shoulder..that man had one girlfriend in the 5th grade and he's been feelin himself since then.

Now before you two started dating you have crushes, Miles didn't have many crushes to my idea. I feel like he didn't see it like he thought of kids as friends and if he did like smb it would be like quick and over with simply because he would try to be friends more.

Like imagine you tryna shoot your shot with him and he just asks you what your favorite power ranger...that what I mage would happen but he's 15/16 so instead it him saying ' cool but, not interested' like he's not rude about it but, you would feel he not messin with you,

Buttt if he does have like a real crush on you, I feel like he would try to get to know you by socials than irl, like asking Ganke can he ask for your socials and then following you and from there trying bag you by cheesy but smooth texts. He would ask about your day, what was the homework, what clubs you do ask a conversation starter but, if you feelin him hell asking about music because I feel like Miles-42 and Miles-1160 both have a music bone in them, and you know Miles-42 listens to good music (won't ever catch him listening to mf Lil Pump ass) I also feel like Miles would ask about pop culture opinions to see how you are as a person like do you watch any popular tv shows? Ohhhh your favorite is Greys Anatomy... so you have nothing to do in your time? That what hell thinks.

My last little head cannon is more of what he would do if Ms. Rio liked you, which because he respectful baddies she likes us quickly, so What would miles do if Rio likes us 🧐

First, Miles wouldn't tell but shell know simply because Miles never smiles at a text, it doesn't matter if he won $128302 million, he not smiling until he met our lovely baddie reader now, he is giggling and kicking his feet. To Ms. Rio that's not normal, it gives her a sense of his old self and she doesn't pry into his social like a helicopter parent but, she doesn't take a peek over his shoulder and when Miles does get the courage to tell her she just smiling acting like she aint know.

Miles seeing his mom like would take a big relief off his shoulders because he thought about the reddit stories where the mom is crazy and now, he thinks his momma gonna run us over with a truck and blame it on the next-door neighbor (true miles fashion)

His mom liking you also lets him know he picked the right one, mothers know best when it comes to fake people for some odd reason and if Rio didn't side-eye you when she met you then your good and he's inviting you to his house more often. I'm not going to talking about Uncle Aaron because I feel like they not as close like that but that a head cannon for a sad day.

But, at the end of the day Miles wants us bad 🤭🤭

#black reader #black fem reader #atsv x reader #miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles x reader #headcanon #miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles x you #CherrixCore

[comfortless]

sylly (like silly yk yk) what are your könig hcs? 🌹

SYLLY?! i…. Ok…. fair warning this is a little long… all that i do is think about this guy someone get him out of my head.

tread carefully reading this! there is a lot of sensitive content here: mental health stuff, abuse, mentions of sex and pornographic material, suicidal ideation, etc etc.

Generic, silly headcanons:

He prefers coffee (black) over tea, but he does have a bit of a sweet tooth (will never resist caramel if it’s presented to him). Honestly, he’s pretty self-reliant when it comes to food, too. On lazy days, he makes enough to where a takeout bill is hardly a concern, but for the most part he cooks! Not a chef by any means, but nothing he ever makes is bad!

Definitely wants a big, loving family, the polar opposite of what he had growing up as an only child in a far less than perfect household. Not a dealbreaker, but he does yearn for all of the love that he’s missed out on and then some.

Not big on video games, but… I do think he is absolutely spending every lonely leave playing Elder Scrolls. Would be so easy to convince to go larping or to a renfaire. I see everyone’s car/bike guy headcanons and I raise you… obsessed with fantasy König. He loves history and myth!! Why not combine the two and see him in chainmail.

The scent & kink posts. But to add… he’s an affectionate biter. (,: Knows the correct places to do so that won’t cause damage or hurt too terribly much. Likes to sniff you just as well! The embodiment of the “merge souls with me” post; in love, he just wants to feel you any way that he can and have some part of you lingering on him, even if it’s just a stray hair or your scent clinging to his shirt or pillowcase.

Cheating is never on this guy’s mind when he’s in a relationship. If he’s found a lady not running for the hills the second she catches sight of him, that’s his one and only. Sure, he may find himself attracted to someone else at some point or other during the duration of a relationship, but he’s devoted and disciplined! There’s never the fear of anyone coming in between he and his lover. He’ll spoil you with gifts, clingy to a point it’s overbearing, always giving you the utmost care… but is not opposed to bullying you into being a submissive, trembling mess either. He’s balanced!

Adores animals. Like any of them. There’s a special place in his heart for cats, but having a constant companion that he can take on hikes like a large dog would be ideal. Would definitely consider owning a tarantula or a snake, too. ^^ He isn’t scared of anything, let alone a creature that most are misinformed about… (he projects a little..). He would treat them just as well as anyone would treat a more “normal” pet. Understanding if you wouldn’t want to hold a giant arachnid (they’re delicate and you squirming over it would make him a bit protective over the poor thing. ): ), but it would mean a lot to him if you were more accepting.

König would not be a pretty sight (to most people) the majority of the time… I doubt that he takes care of himself past training his body and his allotted one-two minute military showers. His character description describes what is rumored to be under his mask as scary. Let him have his buzzcut, and scars, and teeth or old wounds a little too fucked up to fix! Unconventionally attractive is still attractive! (i think his ‘face reveal’ is actually so cute…)

Lots of sporadic little thoughts, but… Ambidextrous, can not ride a bike, whistles/hums to fill lapses of silence, flexes his fingers/cracks his knuckles when he’s nervous, definitely snores (loudly), brushes his teeth like 3-4 times a day (when he can) because he eats so much, not a picky eater at all, thinks it’s cute if you’re affectionately a little grossed out by him from time to time, absolutely the kind of person that thinks fuel and fire smell good, fluent in English and German but certainly knows many words and phrases from other languages.

Kind of clumsy. Overthinks the way his body looks to the point where sometimes his movements are a little stiff. Overestimates how tall a door frame may be if he’s distracted in the presence of others, hits his head and plays it off like he didn’t even notice. He’s (obviously) highly confident on the field, but in regular circumstances it’s totally reversed.

Though. Yeah. Sometimes this does translate onto the field. Can’t stay in one place for too long, once knocked an enemy soldier out by barreling into him. He’s a quick shot, skillful with any weapon that falls into his hands, but his focus can get a little skewed.

He collects some things. Nothing exactly pricy, but antique knives, coins, and a pocket watch or two. And he isn’t the most apt at putting things together in an appealing way… The first time you’re allowed into his house it looks like he’s robbed some vintage hunting shop/is planning something nefarious with the way he’s just got a few daggers strewn about his kitchen table. Just push them to the side, it’s fine! (His favorite is certainly one with a handle carved from a stag’s antler.)

Definitely takes a physical approach to bad feelings. @melancholic-thing mentioned to me that he bites himself when he’s feeling dejected or frustrated and yeah. (All of Ghost’s hcs for him are factually correct.) Not going to punch a hole through the wall but may aggressively slam a door or raise his voice before he can catch himself.

I have many thoughts about König’s childhood/early adulthood. Like, too many. But to summarize…

I think that everyone experiences bullying to an extent but what would make it so bad that it managed to make its way into the scraps that we do have of him? What made him so fundamentally unlikable to his peers? /: With my König I’ve settled on it being a blend of neurodivergency and a nightmare home life and alienation from his peers.

Height is predominantly viewed as a good trait. I don’t think it was necessarily his appearance at all that got him picked on so heavily (albeit… I do think that he would have had some scars, crooked teeth, regular facial bruising or cuts from scraps with other children/his father). Perhaps not the most conventionally attractive guy around, but normally viewed as a solid 5/10, just average. The kind of person who you wouldn’t remember from just a face alone.

His personality was always memorable though.

Whilst the other children/teenagers were interested in the regular trends, sports, whatever was shown on the television or heard on the radio at the time, I think he probably would have had a great interest in escapism!!

Comics, books, researching history and geography, etc, anything that could keep him from thinking of where he was/what other people viewed him as. He had a lot of strange things to say: odd facts (like the kind of person to tell you the longest word in the dictionary because he thinks it’s cool, “um actually—“ to correct something, monologuing about some bug you’ve just squashed and how it was not just a pest but very useful in nature, borderline concerning reactions to being shunned (feigned threats of violence that he would laugh off, things he’s probably heard from media and his own parents), over explaining himself for the simplest of misunderstandings, and… quoting his Oma’s very old-fashioned turns of phrase (think of little Kö regularly saying “Du gehst mir tierisch auf den Keks.” when he’s annoyed whereas the others say things far less dated like “Du gehst mir auf den Sack.”)

With him being difficult to relate to and having the most uncanny things slip out of his mouth, others probably did view him as a bit of a freak. He didn’t particularly stand up for himself often either apart from a few fights (and would never hit a girl). He would stay quiet, pretend to focus on his studies or whatever else was before him while the other children jeered and taunted. Regularly a target for fake confessions and offers to hang out outside of school, too.

König did have crushes, did have people he thought were cool and wanted to befriend, but after the third time of showing up someplace that he had to walk to on his own to find that no one had actually wanted to spend their time with him, he gave up.

I don’t think he had a good relationship with his parents or much of anyone. Seriously, leaving for the military at seventeen sets off a ton of alarm bells! He left the week of his Oma’s passing, because what else was there for him — no girlfriend, no prospects, hardly a relationship with his mother or father.

His father was your standard shit parent— womanizing, loud, physically abusive towards König. “Bonding” activities with him always had a heavy lean towards violence: hunting and arguing that usually resulted in fist fighting his own son seemed to be his favorites. A small man with an equally small ego— he probably would have boasted about his affairs to König, exposed him to pornography as a way of making sure his son wasn’t anything other than straight (which: never stopped his curiosity). He would never hold back from telling König that he would never in a million years find a girl willing to put up with his supposed stupidity and shortcomings. Generally just viewed his own son as utterly worthless if not for use as a punching bag.

In turn, König always loathed him, would dread hearing the bastard just walking around the house because he knew he would always find something to bicker with his wife or son over. Nothing that they ever did would be deemed correct, and his social anxiety initially developed from his dealings with him.

His mother was withdrawn, emotionally neglectful. König was just… there to her; another mouth to feed, another person begging for the attention she would have rather spared on herself.

She wasn’t a bad mother and she did try, but the product of dealing with his father’s nonsense + letting her own mental illness go unchecked (as in, his father controlled the family financially and why would he let her blow through their funds to see a therapist and “lose her lucidity with pills and ridiculous talks”). There were some days when she would be feeling more like herself and take König along with her for walks through the park where she would try to ask him about his life, about school, and… he would end up spilling his guts to her only for her to return to silence. Still, those were his favorite days. His fondest memory was picking a flower for her on one of those walks, one that she kept pressed and later framed.

There were never family dinners, no movie nights, no day trips or vacations. The most blissful of days were spent in the comfort of his room where he could keep the door locked and muffle the sounds of his parents arguing with loud music.

So, König did not have much of a safe space within his own home, but he had his Oma and her cluttered little house. She had books and plenty of food, even a cat, too. Though she was like his mother, stern and withdrawn, she would at least sit with him and tell him stories of her own life. She would at least tell him “Ich lieb dich, Käferchen!” in her quiet voice, stroke his head where he would sit with his nose buried in a book beside her. She would show him her dusty antiques, her old photographs, and in turn taught him to be a proper man by making him tend to what needed to be done around her house. And the garden. He loved his Oma’s garden, full of orchids, petunias, and tomatoes she would mash up to make him goulash or tomatensalat!

With Austria’s leading religion being Catholicism, I do think his Oma would have dragged him with her to service plenty, too. Not that he ever particularly enjoyed it… just zoned out with a plastic soldier in his pocket to fidget with or some trading card he spent the money he earned doing chores for her on. He’s never considered himself religious, thought himself to be bound for Hell no matter what, even if most of the time he felt that he was already there.

You take a puppy that’s been beaten down his entire life, but still remains eager and throw him in a barrack with people more horrible than any bully he’s ever had, though…? He starts taking his father’s advice more and more then. He wouldn’t harm anyone that he didn’t view as deserving of it, but it didn’t need to go that far that often, anyway. König is aware of the space he takes up by then, aware that all of his training has made him more broad and sturdy, and those playground fights are nothing compared to what he’s capable of now.

He gets his callsign from a quip about him owning nothing. His barrack is empty, devoid of pictures or any sentimental belongings. He rarely checks his phone, there might be the occasional missed call from a spam number, what is there to even see? He has no social media presence, every leave is spent in a shitty apartment only a days travel from his hometown, and he is utterly silent when the other soldiers invite him out for drinks. So yes, he’s a king. The king of absolutely nothing.

One of these rowdy boys does eventually coax him into talking to a woman. He loses his virginity in a disgusting bar bathroom, where he asks her after the two minutes he’s spent inside of her if it means anything to her at all. She laughs, washes herself in the sink and calms him down, but doesn’t give him her number or anything more than her first name.

He’s starved for love, utterly miserable without it, but doesn’t have much of a desire to seek it out, either. He’s seen how people are, how they treat him. But time and time again he will grapple onto any thread that may lead him to a pinhole of hope when it’s offered to him. For the most part, he has his hand and a perpetually almost-empty bottle of lotion.

And it’s not much of a surprise that König has contemplated suicide more times than he can count. It has never culminated in any way, only fearing that he would disappoint his men, even further disappoint his parents, maybe even a small part of him still believes in a Hell; that maybe with enough vigilantism on his part he’ll earn his way to a pleasant afterlife, one he teeters on the separation of believing in and not.

He doesn’t think about his mental health, always haunted by his father’s words, thinking that assuredly it would make him weak if he were to seek help for something like his own thoughts. So he overexerts himself during workouts, bottles everything other than rage and love inside: no one is going to see him cry, not ever again after being laughed at for him hundreds of times during school where he sat being called an “ugly giant” a “daydreaming freak” and an “idiot” near daily where silent tears did escape, only spurring further laughter.

Though I do not write him with these things in mind for every au, there are always subtle hints scattered about. ^^ I could probably prattle on forever about him, but I will leave you with this for now…

[captainfern]

fern rant below lol

yk one thing i have noticed both on tiktok, here and the rest of the internet is the “pornification” of media

by that i mean the standards people are being held to in regards of sexual attraction or just “beauty standards in general” and how there is this sudden increase of ideals and values built on the foundation of toxic pornography

i mean there are several examples, but the most common ideals you see typically relate to someone’s body and someone’s body hair and i have a bit to say on the matter, especially as someone who creates “pornographic” content

let’s talk body first

you are beautiful. it does not matter whether the internet perceives you as anything more or less than that. you are beautiful exactly the way you are

the pornification of modern media will tell you that you have to look a certain way. you will be told you can’t be plus-size, or you can’t be too skinny, or you can’t be tall, or you can’t lack curves, or you can’t have hyperpigmentation, etc. don’t listen to that bullshit

you are beautiful and i luv you

i don’t want to see negative body image portrayed in fanfic: x reader’s can be plus-size, they can be tall, they can have no curves. they are x reader for a reason !!! the reader should be described as little as possible !!!

and in saying that, yeah, your favourite fictional characters would fuck a bigger person. they’d fuck a taller person. they’d love you for you and be completely and utterly obsessed with you. “but actually— 🤓☝️” shut up please <3

now body hair

its natural !!! it grows !!!

if you don’t wanna shave, don’t shave. if you wanna shave, shave. baby it’s your choice. do what YOU want. don’t let anybody else influence you and your body

the pornification of modern media has really fucked this kind of thinking up because people (a lot of men unfortunately) think they can dictate the way people / women present themselves ??? gtfo what lmao

“body hair is nasty, body hair is unnatural, body hair is unhygienic”— honey please don’t. it’s not any of these things. body hair is completely ok (and so is not wanting it on you ofc— as long as it’s your decision, not the persuasion of anyone else)

i saw a tiktok of these guys being like “oh i’d never have sex with someone who didn’t shave” and “ew i’d never eat hairy puss” brother you literally suck (it’s ok to have preference, but don’t make it out to be vile or weird or something other people have to agree with)

it’s natural. it’s normal. it’s perfectly hygienic if you keep it that way. if you meet someone like the guys i mentioned above, they ain’t worth your time

and yeah, john price and simon riley and johnny mactavish and kyle garrick would fuck you and eat you out if you didn’t shave cause they’re MEN

love yourself because you’re beautiful and i’m telling you so right now !!!

i felt the need to say this as i write pornography. i write x readers. i try to keep everything regarding body as neutral as possible (and if i ever fuck up, please let me know !!)

i often write about “fat” or “flesh” in my writing but that’s because i don’t see a lot of fics with it. if you want something different, specify in a request and i will write your request more to your liking <3 i want everyone to feel accepted and welcome here because it’s important !!!

on that note, you won’t catch me writing about “bare pussy” or “hairless legs” or whatever. i try to keep it all up to your imagination !!! (you will find hairy men tho !!! the lads i write for will always be hairy but that’s cause i’m a whore)

anyway i luv you and you are so so so beautiful and i hope you have an amazing day / night wherever you may be

this post is not an attack or anything of the sort. i’m just speaking my mind :)

lots of luv <3

#captainfern #fern talks about societal issues for some reason when she probably should be writing about john price or something

[bestworstcase]

"There is no victory in strength."

"And Yang was strength."

I wonder if this is some "subtle" foreshadowing for something later?

oh i have some THOUGHTS about this

first: see this post regarding salem's V1 monologue. the key point to keep in mind for this discussion is that she begins by naming several qualities of mankind—strength, wisdom, resourcefulness, passion, and ingenuity—so her concluding statement implies its own inverse: 

"mankind was strong, wise, and resourceful, but he was born into an unforgiving world […] in time, man's passion, resourcefulness, and ingenuity led them to the tools that would help even the odds […] but take heed: there will be no victory in strength," i.e. "victory lies in these other four qualities." 

so what does this have to do with yang?

in V2: yang gets slapped by the paladin prototype, and when blake calls out to her in a panic, ruby stops her: "don't worry! with each hit she gets stronger, and she uses that energy to fight back. that's what makes her special."

in V3: after her disqualification from the tournament, qrow passes on raven's message to yang ("she saved you once, but you shouldn't expect that kindness again") after she tells him she saw her mom ("i- i was in a lot of trouble, took a pretty hard hit"), then follows up with "you're a tough egg, kiddo; shouldn't let this tournament thing get you down."

in V4: tai tells yang that she, like raven, "act[s] like the easiest way to tackle an obstacle is through it: that strength is all that matters in a fight," which he implies is the fatal flaw of raven's that "tore our team apart and […] did a real number on our family," even though "raven was great in so many ways: her strength, her ambition, her dedication." 

in V5: blake describes yang to sun as "[the embodiment of] strength."

also in V5: yang confronts raven in the vault under haven academy and, when raven calls herself strong, snaps back: "oh, shut up! you don't know the first thing about strength! you turn your back on people, you run away when things get hard, you put others in harms way instead of yourself! you might be powerful, but you're not strong."

in V6: blake reassures yang by telling her "adam's strong, but his real power comes from control."

also in V6: adam taunts yang: "moment of truth, yang! do you think you're faster than you were at beacon? …heh. me neither," and after catching his weapon she retorts, "i may not be faster, but i'm smarter." (<- put a pin in this one, it's important.)

in V8: yang falls, blake fails to catch her, and it's the hit she can't come back from—it doesn't make her stronger, it just plunges her into the void to her apparent death.

in V9: when they catch up with yang, she's performing strength ("i said i wasn't done with you yet!") but in reality she's exhausted, barely able to stand. later, blake describes her like this: "you're an extraordinary person. you're always the first to lighten a situation; you act bravely when you're afraid; you do what you say."

ok. 

there are a few threads to unwind here.

first let's unpin what adam says to yang during their final duel: "do you think you're faster than you were at beacon?" not "stronger." not "tougher." faster.

ruby tells blake that strength is what makes yang special. qrow tells yang she's too tough to let one "slip-up" bring her down. her father thinks she relies too much on her strength. before their reunion, blake sees yang as the living personification of strength.

but just as a younger blake was wrong about adam being "justice" or "passion," she's wrong about yang being "strength," and adam is actually—ironically enough—the first character besides yang herself to notice that strength is not what yang is about. he taunts her for not being fast enough. 

speed. agility. not just in the sense that yang is a very nimble combatant, but she's emotionally agile—look at how she handles herself and her feelings during fraught confrontations with blake in V2 or raven in V5. she's a self-described thrill-seeker, but she also worries about being too rootless. her biggest setbacks all come from rushing—and her big wins all come from outmaneuvering her opponents, whether physically or emotionally. she's strong, but strength is not what she is.

keeping that in mind, the second thread to follow is the difference between strength and power. yang tells raven "you might be powerful, but you're not strong." blake tells yang that adam is "strong, but his real power comes from control," from getting into people's heads and making them feel small. when ruby and tai and blake talk about yang's strength (and when blake talks about adam being strong), they mean raw physical strength—but that's not what yang means when she talks about strength. in yang's terms, raw physical strength is just power. her semblance makes her powerful; it doesn't make her strong. 

yang defines strength as the choice to put others ahead of oneself, even and especially when it's hard. 

in the ever after, blake says that yang uplifts others (always the first to lighten a situation), that she's brave, that she has integrity. between V5 and V9, after reconciling with yang and going through the harrowing experience of of fighting adam with her, blake sees the vulnerability behind the brave mask yang puts on for her loved ones. her perception of yang at beacon was colored both by her adam trauma and by the way ruby saw yang as invulnerable, unshakable. since then she's come to see yang as she truly is: caring, brave, and honest. she sees and loves the kind of strength that yang values.

third thread: the really crucial piece is what kind of strength is salem referring to? 

and the answer is that she's talking about power, explicitly in contrast to what she sees as humanity's true strengths: wisdom, resourcefulness, passion, ingenuity, and hope. in V1, salem credits hope as the reason mankind was not wiped out (again) by the grimm and names "passion, resourcefulness, and ingenuity" as the qualities that allowed them to find a way to survive against the odds. then, "nature's wrath in hand, man lit their way through the darkness, and in the shadow's absence came strength, civilization, and most importantly, life."

in this story salem tells about the beginning of the world, strength is one of the fruits of mankind's triumph, something that could only develop after the darkness had been beaten and pushed back. when she gives her warning—"there will be no victory in strength"—she names "your guardians" and "your monuments" explicitly. 

to be precise, she is talking about the maidens ("a guardian is a symbol of comfort"), amity coliseum("it was decided that the tournament would need a stage equal in greatness to that of its competitors. amity coliseum was the culmination of four kingdom's efforts: a technological marvel and a shining symbol of harmony, capable of making the journey to all the kingdoms of remnant"—but note that menagerie is excluded from the vytal festival), and atlas ("the people of mantle needed a sign of a brighter future, and that sign was atlas; a city in the clouds is as bright as it gets").

those things represent ozpin's definition of strength: technological marvels, shining symbols of harmony and comfort, a girl who is "strong, caring, and intelligent" enough to make the people feel safe. and of course outside of these soliloquies, the word salem uses is power—and she warns cinder, twice, in no uncertain terms that power will not make her strong: "it is because of the maiden's power. […] your newfound strength brings with it a crippling weakness" and "you will have the power i promised you, but remember that it comes with a cost."

now back to yang: she and salem share this mindset, this clear delineation between true strength and mere power. salem tries to impress it upon cinder; yang's power blinds her family to her true strength, which blake learns to see clearly as they become partners, and she is placed in juxtaposition with adam, raven, and cinder—all of whom are powerful but not strong. 

and, like salem, the way yang is perceived (that her power is what makes her special, and she thinks physical strength is all that matters in a fight) does not align with how yang sees herself or what she values: yang takes pride in being able to face her fears, speak the truth, put others before herself, and outwit her foes; she likes that blake has never been intimidated by her, and she admires blake's dedication and willingness to forgive. 

salem values wisdom, i.e. experiential knowledge—yang tells her past self that her losses and failures "more than anything are what have shaped me into who i am, showed me how i need to grow." salem values passion—yang is passionate in everything she does and likewise admires the passion she sees in blake. "you know what matters to you." salem values resourcefulness and ingenuity—yang revels in outsmarting people who underestimate her, as they often do, and flat out tells adam that she may not be faster than him, but she is smarter, then throws his weapon to bait him into running right into blake's punch.

yang values courage—salem fomented rebellion against the fucking gods and vowed to keep fighting even after they crushed her like an ant, and rewards cinder for defying her, and disdains lionheart for being a coward. yang values honesty—salem explodes when people lie to her and loathes ozma for his deceit. yang values compassion—salem built her whole rebellion on the premise that no one else should have to suffer as she did. yang values cleverness—salem cultivates spies and meticulously prepares to stack the deck in her favor before making a move.

"the ability to derive strength from hope is undoubtedly mankind's greatest asset," says salem. "even the smallest spark of hope is enough to ignite change."

"look, blind optimism isn't great, but no optimism means we've already lost; we need hope. we need to take risks," says yang. 

aside from blake, all of team rwby repeat salem in some way: weiss is the girl who frees herself from her tower, ruby the idealist who sees how broken the world is and takes it upon herself to fix it, inspiring the world to strive with her. (blake repeats ozma: the warrior who fights for justice, but her journey is the inverse of his: her ideals are corrupted by adam's spite in the beginning and she leaves him behind in pursuit of true justice.) but yang is salem's heart. 

(<- the reversal in how blake sees yang before/after they reunite at haven and defeat adam together is a fractal-ozlem thing, by the way: the inflection point occurs in 6.5 when yang opens up about her flashbacks and blake sees her hands shaking. the maiden's tears restore her prince's sight—yang allows blake to see how scared she is, and blake recognizes how badly yang needs blake to be there for her, to stay.)

WHICH IS HYSTERICAL BECAUSE,

"all this endless death, because something bad happened to you once upon a time? no one gets a fairytale ending! everything i've lost, every person i've lost, is because of you!"

yang is being deliberately provocative here. her intention is to redirect salem's boiling fury from oscar to herself, to protect oscar. she is trying to piss salem off, and while she succeeds in distracting salem from oscar, she completely fails to make salem angry—instead, salem calms down.

why?

the anger and scorn yang throws in salem's face here are completely genuine, but as i said before, yang's emotional agility—her control over her emotions—is unparalleled. she does not "lose her temper" (and on the rare occasion she snaps without meaning to, she reins it in lightning fast). she lets it out. so in this scene, yang makes a calculated choice to yell at salem. to get angry.

now, we've seen her do this once before—and by "this" i mean specifically the choice to get mad enough to verbally explode at somebody—and that was during her last confrontation with raven. 

"oh, shut up! you don't know the first thing about strength! you turn your back on people, you run away when things get hard, you put others in harm's way instead of yourself! you might be powerful, but you're not strong."

i think yang is not quite as in control of her feelings in this scene with raven, because the wounds are very personal and very raw, but nevertheless she is making a deliberate choice to let her anger come out because—again—she's trying to make raven mad. if raven decides she's leaving with the lamp, yang can't actually stop her. she knows that. she also knows raven isn't going to listen to an appeal to join them, so her only real option is to upset raven enough to make her abandon the lamp (and yang) (…again). 

so that's what she does! yang asks questions and needles raven on her answers until raven starts to react emotionally ("i survived because i'm strong enough to do what others won't!"), and yang pounces on that. shut up, you don't know the first thing about strength. she goes right for the throat, attacks the thing at the center of all raven's rationalizations. and raven fucking shatters.

this is what yang tries to do to salem. "why do you keep coming back?" -> "why do YOU!?"—raven says "i'm strong," yang goes "shut up, that's bullshit, no you're not." salem says "why do you keep coming back," yang hears salem playing the victim and goes "shut up, that's bullshit, your suffering isn't special" because she guesses—based on what she's been told about salem, and what she just heard salem say to ozma—that salem has built her sense of self around victimhood in the same way that raven built hers around "being strong."

only. it doesn't work this time.

because salem is just like yang.

just like yang, salem prizes courage and conviction and abhors liars. she makes the same distinction between genuine strength and mere power, and values power not at all. 

she also, just like yang, keeps her anger firmly in check. when salem yells and slams her hands down or flips a table to intimidate someone, or threatens cinder with the hound, or tortured oscar, that is a choice she is making to let her anger out. the one time salem actually loses her temper, she sends everyone else out of the room, waits for the door to close, makes what appears to be a herculean effort to hold it in (<- the air boils), and then explodes all the windows.

this tactic of yang's depends on her opponent not having her level of emotional control. but that isn't the only reason she completely fails to get a rise out of salem; look at salem's reaction:

<- "why do you keep coming back?"—this is genuine fury. teeth bared, crushing oscar's head with her nails digging in behind his ears.

<- "because something bad happened to you once upon a time?"—she's nonplussed. it's not even that salem's too in control of her anger for yang to provoke her, salem is legitimately thrown for a loop by this line of attack. yang misses the mark by such a wide margin that it knocks salem out of her anger altogether. she was seething about ozma sacrificing children for the god to whom he debases himself in blind obedience, why is this child yelling about fairytales. what.

it's telling, i think, that salem does not, in any way, dispute the premise that her own suffering does not justify the suffering she causes or that she is personally responsible for yang's losses. neither of those ideas challenge or threaten salem's self-identity, and in fact the only response she does make is to ask who she took from yang. (<- implicitly conceding that she is responsible for ruining yang's life, or at least that she might be.) 

she and yang are Very Alike.

(this is also why yang has such pronounced paralleling with cinder. by the way. two halves of salem's psyche. fire as hope, fire as wrath.)

anyway

the point of yang vis-a-vis "there will be no victory in strength" is to clarify and articulate the distinction salem makes between power (which neither character values) and strength (which they do, and define as the sum of many virtues). both of them are positioned in counterpoint to ozpin, who trusted only in power and symbols of power (the maidens, amity, atlas), and ruby, who mistakes power for strength and is on a journey that puts both her power (silver eyes) and her strength (hope) to the test.

[featherstorm2004]

Nana Shimura's guilt

Ok, so I'm sure plenty of people have noticed that in the latest chapter Nana has been insisting that Izuku must kill Shigaraki and that he's a wall that Izuku doesn't have to climb over. And I want to discus that as whilst I certainly don't agree with her, I find her reasons for such a perspective to be fascinating.

But let's begin with a trend I've noticed in any chapters where Nana and the vestiges talk about Shigaraki, and that's the fact that despite originally agreeing to go along with Izuku's wish to save Shigaraki they constantly refer to him as an 'it' or a 'thing' more often describing him as something less then human. And whilst it may not be surprising for the others to refer to him this way, it is incredibly disturbing that Nana his own grandmother seems the most determined to remove Shigaraki's humanity.

In fact it appears to be a theme that anyone who had a personal stake in how Shigaraki came to be are the one's most determined to ignore any sign of personhood inside him. This can be seen with Grand Torino, who despite having come to the realisation that his and Nana's decision was a mistake, seems to double down and tries to convince Izuku that killing Tomura is the better option; hell, literally the moment Shigaraki's identity is reviled he is the one to convince All Might that he isn't worth saving and that no matter his bloodline he's still a villain.

And he says this with full confidence despite the fact All For One outright told them both that he deliberately groomed Shigaraki to hate All Might and only chose him to mess with his enemy.

Even All Might chose to give up on Shigaraki very quickly and hasn't even thought about him since he found out, which is honestly really sad because of all people he should have been the one who cared the most, especially since he knows one of the only reasons All For One chose to mess with Shigaraki was to hurt him.

Which brings me back to Nanna and why she is acting the way she is and honestly, it's most likely due to a number of reasons and guilt is likely the most prominent one. After all it was her choices which led to Kotaro becoming traumatised and despising hero's, and it was because she was a wielder of One For All that her family/Tenko was targeted. Now I'm not saying it's Nana's fault Kotaro became an abuser, after all he was a grown man who was more than responsible for the way he handled his trauma however, that doesn't erase the fact that she was the root of his hatred which he passed down onto his son.

Not to mention she knows that the main reason Tenko was targeted was for revenge against her for defying All For One, so not only dose she have to deal with the fact that her son abused his child to near insanity but also her mortal enemy, who killed her, her master and tried to kill her student also groomed her grandchild to hate her, hero's and to become his next vessel.

That a lot of guilt for anyone to be burdened with and whilst it isn't directly her fault, the birth of Shigaraki is a result of the legacy she left behind.

And she obviously can't cope with that because if she did, it would basically invalidate every sacrifice she made for the sake of protecting One For All, so what dose she do? Well she makes a very human mistake and choses to ignore it. After all if Shigaraki is just a monster, a creature beyond human understanding then she doesn't have to face the guilt, "it was out of my hands, what could I have done?" "there's no point in dwelling on what could have been".

Ironically it's the same response All For One had regarding his own humanity. Essentially she's taking the responsibility out of her hands in order to protect herself because if she dose acknowledge it, it would essentially be an ego death for her and well humans are naturally programmed to protect ourselves at all costs. It's not nice but it's the truth, which honestly makes someone like Izuku stand out more.

Izuku has no reason to sympathies with Shigaraki, he has no idea what he's gone through or the history behind his creation but despite that he is the only person on the hero's side who has NEVER ignored him. Hell, even back in the mall scene where Shigaraki practically had him a gun point he still took the time to listen to him and give him a proper answer to his question and clearly what Shigaraki said meant something to him as he ask's All Might about it later.

It's clear that ever since these two have met that for some reason, whether it be the legacies they both carry or the fact that Izuku is just an innately empathetic person, these two have shared a connection. It's like Izuku and Shigaraki said, it's almost like fate has brought them together and we'll just have to see however that played out.

However, it's abundantly clear that whatever might happen between the two of them for Shigaraki to be truly be saved Nana and by extension all others who have kindly rejected Shigaraki will have to eventually accept that he is in fact human. They cannot keep pushing things under the rug because Izuku won't let them.

#shigaraki tomura #nana shimura #midoriya izuku #my hero academia #character analysis #mha #bnha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #bnha meta #boku no hero academia #bnha shigaraki #bnha deku #bnha 412 #mha 412 #bnha nana

[forever-rogue]

Hi Bee,

OK I got a Nurse Steve request for you. I was thinking tooth rotting fluff. I'm thinking it's been a few days since Cami was brought home and Steve doesn't leave her side. He's talking to her in a baby voice, badly singing, watching her every movement, telling her that if she ever considers dating Uncle Eddie and Aunt Robin will help bury the body..etc. The reader watches smiling, Steve's sees her his eyes light up with so much love. He knows its time for Cami to eat he says something like "Mommy's the best, she's going to feed you, just go easy on her " Or something like that. Then he kisses the reader, presses their foreheads looking into her eyes saying. "Thank you for everything, my clumsy girl"

(Let me know what you think <3)

AN | Okay, but imagine Stevie and his clumsy girl bringing home baby Camila 🥺 This can be read as a companion piece to the below but also as a stand alone!

Warnings | Mild Language

Pairing | Nurse!Steve x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 2.1k

Masterlist | Steve, Main, Nurse Steve

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Camila May Harrington had been home for almost a week. 

And it had been singularly the best and most stressful week of Steve’s life. There wasn’t a way for him to properly describe the feeling that came from being at home with his wife and daughter. To put in simple terms it was the best feeling in the entire world; he had everything he could have ever wanted. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The two of you were lying in bed, thoroughly exhausted but happy. You were hoping to squeeze in a few hours of sleep before Cami woke up again; it was hard adjusting to the sleep schedule of a newborn, but at least you’d had some practice with the last trimester of pregnancy where you could barely sleep yourself. 

“Hey,” Steve whispered softly, shifting over to face you, a sleepy smile on his own face. He reached over and tenderly brushed his knuckles over your cheek, causing you to lean into his touch.

“Hey yourself,” you reached for his hand and brought to your lips, pressing a soft kiss to it, “do you think we’ll be able to get some sleep for real this time?”

“I think we might be in the clear,” he laughed softly, draping an arm over your waist and pulling you closer to his warm body, “maybe Cami will have some pity on her poor old parents.”

“Can’t even blame her but fuck, this is hard,” you hated saying the words out loud but if anyone in the world understood what you were going through it would be him. He knew, at least technically, all that your body was going through. Plus he was there with you in the thick of it all; you were so thankful that he’d taken time off to be home with the two of you, “I love her so much but do you think it’ll get easier? Am I…am I a bad mother?”

“Angel,” he tutted gently and shook his head, “it will get easier, I promise. We’re adjusting to a whole new little person being with us, and having to be the people that keep that little person alive and happy. It’s a big change and responsibility but it’ll get better the longer we do it. And you are not a bad mother. You’re amazing-”

“How do you know? It’s barely been over a week,” you felt the tears well up but Steve pressed a kiss to your forehead in what he hoped was a sign of reassurance, “I don’t wanna mess anything up!”

“You’ve already been taking care of her for nine months,” you couldn’t help but snort in amusement at his bright smile, “and it’s easy to see how much you love her. She knows that too.”

“Okay,” there wasn’t a way you could love him anymore if you tried. He really was everything to you, “you too, you know. It’s easy to see that you adore our daughter.”

“I do,” he promised, even though it definitely didn’t need to be said, “and I like getting to say our daughter.”

“She definitely takes after you,” you yawned and he raised an amused eyebrow, “those pretty brown eyes and an already full head of hair. And she’s got you wrapped around her little finger.”

“So does her mother,” he took your hand and laced his fingers through yours, “we’ll make sure the next one takes after you.”

“Oh? You assume I’m going to go through this again, Steve Harrington?” his cheeks pinked as he sheepishly shrugged. But you ruffled his hair affectionately, “you already know I would, my love. We’ll have all the little Harringtons running around one day.”

“I am so-” before he could finish whatever he was going to say, you hear Cami’s soft cries coming from her crib. You didn’t bother to hide your sigh; this was a normal reaction after all, it didn’t mean that you loved her any less.

"I'll go," you couldn't even remember whose turn it was to go and check on her but it had just become such a natural reaction. Steve wrapped his fingers gently around your wrist and kept you from getting out of the bed, "Steve-"

"I'll get her," he insisted softly, but with a firmness that suggested he wasn't going to take no for an answer. He kissed you softly before making his way out of the bed and towards the door, "I'm going to take her to the nursery so you can try and get some rest."

"Thank you," you looked at two of them, the absolute picture of perfection, before slumping back against the pillows, "I love you both so, so much."

"We love you too," he replied softly as he held Cami against his chest, "lots and lots."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Hey there Cami girl," he cooed softly as he held her gently, but securely, against his chest. Her cries had quieted slightly but she was sniffling and had big crocodile tears running down her chubby little cheeks, "its alright baby girl, Daddy's got you."

He opened the door to her nursery and turned on the nightlight before gently sitting down in the rocking chair. Steve remembered how much you had loved it while you were pregnant and how'd you sit in there while you watched him work. He wouldn't have had it any other way.

"Shh, shh," he cooed as she laid against his bare chest, her chubby little hand holding onto his pinkie. He liked getting to hold her like this and was a big fan of skin to skin contact, "yeah, you're okay, huh? Daddy's right here."

He smoothed his hand up and down her back in the way he'd come to know that she loved. She hiccuped lightly but the gentle rocking of the chair seemed to lull her and calm her down.

Steve started singing softly to her, lullabies that he remembered from his childhood - some of the earliest and best memories he had of his parents - and one that he’d taken the time to learn during your pregnancy. He thought he sounded terrible, but you always insisted that you loved his voice; he hoped that Cami agreed. 

Once she grew more tired and her breathing evened out, he switched to telling her stories from when he was younger and all the people that she was going to meet soon. 

“Family,” he stroked her pink, chubby little cheek, “one thing you’ll learn in life is that sometimes the best parts are the family that you make. But I hope that you always know that your mama and I love you so much. We’re always going to be here for you.”

She made a small sound almost like she was agreeing with him, which brought a smile to his face. He closed his own tired eyes, willing himself not to fall asleep; there was a part of him that was still worried about accidentally crushing her despite the fact that he knew that was extremely unlikely. 

“You’re already so loved,” he promised her, “you’ve got a huge family all waiting to meet you. I think you’re going to be stuck with them for life. Like Aunt Robin, Uncle Dustin, and Aunt Nancy and Uncle Eddie. You’re never going to be lonely. And, as you get older, you’ll be so thankful for them. Except for maybe when you start dating…Aunt Robin and Uncle Eddie would be the first to help me hide a body, but I’m just putting that out there. But we won’t have to worry about that for a long time.”

Before the two of them managed to fall asleep, Steve told her some stories about his adventures with his friends, the parts that were either suitable for children or severely edited, and about his story with you. Eventually, sleep won over and Steve fell asleep along with the baby snuggled up on his chest. Meanwhile, you were passed out in bed, snoring softly as you caught up on some much needed sleep.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You weren't sure how long you had been asleep by the time you woke up but you were still alone in bed. You stretched, enjoying the popping of your stiff joints before making your way down the hall to the nursery. You had a feeling you'd find your loves there.

Sure enough, the two of them were in the rocking chair, both snoozing away. You didn't want to wake them but you also felt bad for leaving them like that knowing Steve would have a stiff and sore neck. 

"Hey, my love," you gently put your hand on his shoulder, attempting not to startle him. His sleepy, pretty brown eyes slowly opened and he graced you with a gentle smile, "come back to bed. It's your turn for some rest."

"You sure?" He mumbled as you nodded. Your husband gingerly stood up, doing his best not to wake the baby as he padded back down the hall after you. 

Pulling back the covers you made a space for him and he almost all but fell into bed. You slid in next to the two of them, snuggled up as best as you could.

Cami seemed to have other ideas as she started to squirm and fuss around again. Steve gently cooed at her, attempting to calm her down, but nothing seemed to work. It only took him a few minutes to realize what was going on, "you're hungry, huh baby girl? Well, your mama's the best but you have to ask her."

"Yeah, I think I can help out here," you whispered, gently reaching for her small body to hold her to yours. It was amazing what just a few hours of sleep could do, but you already felt a little better. 

"You gotta be good to her, okay? Be easy on her," he murmured as fixed your top so she could easily nurse. He rolled onto his side and closely watched the two of you with nothing but awe and reverence in his eyes, "you gonna be okay, angel?"

“Of course,” you settled Cami on your chest so she could latch on properly and start nursing. After a little bit of struggling the first couple of days, it had become so much easier, “the little bit of sleep helped. And I’ve got you right here….there’s nothing better.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” he wished he had his camera then and there to capture the sweet moment of his family, “my whole world, right next to me.”

“You’re such a romantic,” you carded a hand through his dark hair, gently scratching at his scalp, “I love you.”

“I love you,” he yawned and felt his eyes getting heavier again, “‘m sorry you have to do all the hard work.”

“What do you mean?” you couldn’t help the small giggle that escaped your lips, “Stevie?”

“You’re the one that had to be pregnant and your whole body is still going through so much,” yeah…that had been pretty hard, “would do it for you if I could.”

“I know,” and you both knew that he was being serious, “you’re a good man, my love. But don’t worry, it’s all okay. And just so you know, I’d do this all again.”

“Again?”

“Mhmm,” you soothed your hand gently along Cami’s back, “and we’ll do it again eventually, yeah? Have baby number two.”

“Only if you want,” he loved the idea of having more children, but he’d never push you to do anything you didn’t want, “you’re really cute pregnant, but you’re always cute. Beautiful, sexy. All of it.”

“Oh Stevie,” you sighed contentedly, “I love you so much. We’ll figure it all out eventually. But for now, we’ll take it day by day.”

“That sounds perfect to me,” he agreed softly, “my girls, you’re everything to me.”

And he was everything to you too, as was Camila. 

That broken ankle really was one of the best things to ever happen. 

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington one shot #nurse!steve #joe keery

[right-there-ride-on]

Chronology of Major Gyjo moments (sources cited)

Gyro refuses to leave Johnny behind despite making it a point that he won't be slowed down by him

Chapter 14 - Across the Arizona Desert: Continuing on the Shortest Route

2) After being attacked, Johnny states the only one he trusts is Gyro

Also, early example of Johnny being willing to give the corpse up to save Gyro (even before Sugar Mountain!)

Chapter 27: Tusk (Part 3)

3) Gyro disobeying his father and familial tradition by giving in to his urge to save Johnny (and thereby fight like a 'true man' for what he wants)

Chapter 35: The True Man's World (Part 3)

4) Gyro putting his faith in Johnny to defeat their attacker. When Johnny thinks he's failed, he cradles Gyro's face and asks for forgiveness. (it's a major moment. to me)

Chapter 44: A Silent Way (Part 5)

5) Ok this one is just a little sus but I'm putting it in anyway: Gyro dreaming of that time he slept with one of his patients, only to immediately wake up and have a domestic scene with Johnny. For what purpose...?

Chapter 45: The Promised Land Sugar Mountain (Part 1)

6) Johnny gives up the corpse parts for Gyro (again), immediately followed by them drinking away their sorrows into the sunset. Who's doing it like them.

Chapter 48: Tubular Bells (Part 1)

7) Gyro finds the Golden Rectangle, previously described as, “… the foundation for every perfect structure for beauty" (Chapter 43: A Silent Way, Part 4) in Johnny eyes, and refuses to answer Johnny's question about where he's finding it. The implications of what Gyro thinks of Johnny's physical appearance are obvious.

Chapter 52: Wrecking Ball (Part 2)

8) Gyro sacrifices his hand, his only other point of reference for the Golden Rectangle, in order to save Johnny from a hit he probably could have tanked. Even Gyro looks a little surprised at himself... Also, they are all over each other this arc. Gyro is especially protective.

And, a little later:

Chapter 53: Wrecking Ball (Part 3)

9) Once it's revealed that Valentine intends to kill the rest of the racers (at least the ones who pose a threat to him), and makes an attempt on Johnny's life, Gyro attempts to convince Johnny to drop out, implying that he would drop out with him.

Of course, this is immediately followed by Johnny begging Gyro to, at the very least, help Lucy and see what she knows about the corpse parts. Seeing Johnny's distress at being so close to his goal only to have it snatched away from him convinces Gyro to stay in the race (something that will ultimately get him killed) and theorize how they can use the spin to defeat Valentine (via the stirrups). He tries to play it off but goddamn he is in love with him.

Chapter 72: Ticket to Ride (Part 2)

10) Shuiesha coloring may imply that Johnny is wearing Gyro's shirt beneath his own?? It's got the same collar and everything.

First appearance of this coloring choice is Chapter 63: 7 Days in a Week

11) Exchange of secrets no one else knows (they are each other's most important person!)

This panel in particular:

Chapter 76: D4C (Part 9)

12) And last but not least, thee set of chapter titles ever, in which Valetine attempts to bargain with Johnny to spare his life in return for bringing back Gyro. Johnny refuses, not because of any moral quandary about saving the life of an evil man, but because the Gyro brought back would not be the same. On top of that, he recognizes Valentine as a liar.

When it's all over, Johnny just breaks.

And that's the end of the chapter!

Chapters 88 and 89: Break My Heart, Break Your Heart (Parts 1 & 2)

13) Johnny's Goodbye (I like this scene more in b+w what can I say)

Chapter 95: The World of Stars and Stripes (Outro)

Obviously Johnny and Gyro have a lot of smaller moments too, but these are the ones that come to mind when I think of them!

#gyjo catalogue #gyjo repository #gyjo #gyro zeppeli #johnny joestar #steel ball run #sbr #holy fuck the resolution is garbage #anyway. I fully believe they were in love. I love gay people #my posts

[daddypriceugh]

Mr. And Mrs. Mactavish

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

I saw that you guys want fluff so I'm giving you fluff :)

I will maybe upload another fic today, if I don't fall asleep (it's 10:30 pm here)

Anyway enjoy this one <3

Tw: nothing just fluff

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

Today is the day you've never thought would come. It just always seemed unreal. But here you are, standing in your wedding dress in front of the church door waiting for the music to announce your entrance.

Your nerves are playing wild and your body feels on fire. What if you trip? What if he changes his mind? What if-

"Are you alright?"

A voice interrupts your thoughts. You look to your left to see John Price standing next to you, with a worried look on his face.

" Yeah I'm fine. Just nervous"

He nods in understanding and takes your hands in his.

"Trust me it's gonna be okay. Hell don't worry about him changing his mind, I've never seen someone that wipped for a girl before"  he says while laughing at the last part.

A chuckle escapes your throat, which then tightens again when you heard the music start playing.

"Ok ok no panic (Y/N)" you tell yourself, trying to calm down.

You take a deep breath and nod at John, giving your ok to enter the church. He smiles at you and links his arm with yours.

You tear up at the gesture, knowing that your father would have loved to walk you down the aisle.

John had become like a father figure to you -even though he's not that much older- and you're more than grateful that he said yes to walking you into your new chapter of life.

The heavy doors open and you can see the guests standing up at the sound, all of them turning their heads to see the bride.

You take one step after another, gripping John's hand in yours. Looking around you see familiar faces like your mother and some aunts, but the most important person to you was standing at the altar.

Turning your head you lock eyes with him. Time seems to slow down as you take i the sight of him. Damn does he looks handsome. His mohawk was freshly cut and he wore a new black suit with a red tie.

It may look like a unoriginal outfit, but to you it is perfect.

A smiles forms on your face when you stand directly in front of him. John hands him your hand over and shoots a threatening look. It was the "if you ever hurt her I will personally kill you" look.

Before leaving to go to Johnny's man in honor side to stand next to Gaz and Ghost, he gives you a small kiss on your forehead, whispering "I'm proud of you" against it.

Now it was just Johnny and you. Two people that love each other more than words can describe.

The pastor says the usual things but you hear nothing. You just stare into your soon-to-be-husbands eyes, and you could swear to see tears swelling in them.

The pastor speaks up.

"It is now time for the vows"

You take a deep breath and start talking:

"Johnny, I have loved you since the moment I saw you. It was the way you introduced yourself, the way you saved my ass on many missions, it was the way you held me after my father died and it were the many things in-between. You made and still make my life perfect. I finally found a reason to life and I'm glad I get to spend the time with you. You are perfect in any way imaginable. I love you dearly and I will stay by your side in good and bad times"

Your voice cracks midway, tears streaming down your face. But it seems that your fiancé feels the same way. He doesn't hide his emotions anymore embraces the tears.

It was no his turn and he grabs your right hand and puts it on his heart.

"Dearie, you absolutely make me the happiest man alive. I'm blessed to wake up with you next to me evey day. I can't think of something better anymore. I love the way you laugh at all my stupid jokes that I tell the Lieutenant. It seems that his skull is too thick to understand our humour"

Laughter goes through the room, even Simon chuckles at the mentioning of his name.

"I love everything about you and that will never stop. Even after my death. I love you from the bottom of my heart."

You smile at him and place your hand on his cheek.

The pastor raises his hands and announces the moments you have been waiting for.

"I now announce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride"

Not waiting a second longer, Johnny pulls you by your waist and presses his lips to yours. Applause rings through the crowd and people cheer.

The kiss doesn't last long but it's perfect. Johnny then suddenly lifts you up and carries you towards the exit, and your friends and family follow.

Time skip:

The evening goes smooth. People are laughing and having fun. You are currently sitting on your husbands lap after having danced to two songs.

Head laying on his shoulder while you're admiring him, tracing every scar with your thumb.

"And how does it feel to be married"

"Feels incredible my darlin'. Absolutely the best feeling ever" You hum in response looking up to him. He catches your stare and smiles.

"I hope you won't grow tired of me Mr. Mactavish"

"I would never in my life. I promise you that Mrs. Mactavish"

You laugh and move you face to his to meet in a kiss. This time it's more passionate, full of love and excitement for what the future holds.

#cod x reader #ghost x reader #call of duty #cod fluff #john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #john mctavish x reader

[extremelyblackandwhite]

pairing: dad!bucky barnes x au pair!reader

warnings: age gap (reader is 10 years younger than bucky), smut (18+, dni if under 18)

author’s note: sorry this one is a bit short. i am worrying myself silly until tomorrow.

masterlist

and wouldn't you love to love her?

Bucky didn't know if Y/N wouldn't be back. He had decided to give her space, allow her the time off since she never had any but explaining it to Sadie was, to say the least, complicated. The two year old had decided to live up to the terrible two cliche and between refusing to go to school and kicking any time he tried to bathe her. Whenever she asked when Y/N would be back all Bucky could say was that he did not know and, honestly, that was the truth. The more the days passed by and her viva examination got closer, he was starting to believe more and more that maybe she just wasn't coming back at all. I like you just the way you are, what ever happened to Hey Y/N, would you like to go for some coffee? No, he just had to be upfront about it.

As if Sadie living up to her prophecy wasn't enough, Christopher was equally on him blabbing and wondering about Y/N. He could only tlel him so much before Chris charted a jet to Ohio and he was certain Y/N would hate that more than what he told her.

Bucky was in the middle of dealing with Sadie screaming bloody murder about the pancakes not having chocolate chips when he heard the front door close. At this point, if someone came to shoot him in the head he wouldn't mind. However, it turned out to be a much pleasant sight dressed in a professional black dress.

      - Why is she crying? - Y/N drapped her coat over the chair.

      - There's no chocolate chips. - Bucky sighed both of relief that Y/N was here and of tiredness.

      - Sadie Barnes, you either eat your pancakes or there will be no TV, no tablet, no toys, no Etch-a-Sketch and definitely no Bluey, Disney + or any other streaming service your dad may be paying for. Your choice.

The redhead stared at Y/N before starting to eat her pancakes. That's it, Y/N was a witch. She had to be a witch. That's it. She was a witch, a very pretty witch who looked way too polished to have come out of an Ohio farm, but a witch.

      - How were the cows?

      - Pardon?

      - Your parents. You went to see your parents right? They live in a farm in Ohio?

      - Yeah. They were ok. Apparently mum has named them Rose, Sophia, Dorothy, and Blanche much to dad's dismay.

      - Like the Golden Girls. - he chuckled. - So, your viva is today.

      - Don't remind me. It's like walking into a slaughter house and then being denied being called a doctor. They should decapitate me, put my head on a spike, and parade me around Columbia as the massive disappointment.

      - What's decapitate? - Sadie asked.

      - It's the capital. - Bucky said not wanting to traumatise his two year old with the scenario Y/N had just described. - Go wash your hands and get your backpack, bug.

Sadie nodded but not before going over to hug Y/N's leg. Y/N ruffled her head before sending her along to wash her hands. Bucky got to making Y/N a plate, patting the chair next to him. She smiled at him before taking a seat and cutting a bit of the pancake. She stopped chewing, looking at him with a forced smile.

      - Good?

      - Buck, why are they salty? - she put a napkin in front of her mouth to spit out the pancake.

      - They're not salty. - Bucky took a forkful from her plate to try it himself.

      - We've had this discussion, Buck. Salt is in the black pot and sugar in the white one.

      - I'm gonna be a mess when you quit. - he pushed the plate away from her. - Speaking of which, I would like if you interviewed your future replacement. I trust you to pick the right person.

      - Most likely you won't need a replacement because I'm failing my viva today.

      - You are not. - Bucky put his hand on her shoulder. - You are smart, Baudelaire.

      - Baudelaire?

      - Do the scary thing first. Get scared latter.

(...)

Bucky drove Y/N down to Columbia, ensuring she got there safe and ready for her VIVA before driving down to take Sadie to school. Y/N swallowed in empty, merely staring at the hallowed halls of a building which had many notable alumni and she was now hoping she would be one. The VIVA was intense to say less and as she came out of the room, she was sweating buckets and wanting to be as far away from the building as possible.

      - Y/N! - shit. Shit, shit, shit, she'd forgotten he existed. What ever happened to men taking a hint?

      - Chris. - she turned around with a fake smile. - What are you doing here?

      - Anderson told me it was your VIVA today, I wanted to come see you. I haven't seen you in a while and Barnes said you were on holiday.

      - I thought after our last chat you wouldn't want to talk to me, Christopher.

      - It was a hurdle, Y/N. - he got closer to her. - Listen, I understand it was rough of me to attack your job like that but you have to understand it's because I care for you and that job is beneath you.

      - No job is beneath anyone, Christopher. You think that silver spoon mouthed talk is gonna make me forget you basically insulted me, my boss and the child I look after?

      - You have a Bachelors and a Masters, Y/N. You should be working internships, assistant positions to help you build your curriculum, not being a silver spoon mouthed man's child's babysitter.

      - That's all fine when you can afford to work a non paid position, Christopher.

      - I care about you, Y/N.

      - But I don't love you.

      - I don't expect you to love me yet, we haven't been seeing each other for too long and if we ...

      - Christopher. - she interrupted him. - I love someone else. It's not gonna stop.

(...)

Y/N dragged herself home. It was now a week, a week long of worrying wether she passed or not. She guessed it was better than having to do it again, heck she hoped she wouldn't have to do it again. She opened the door and heard mumbling with all the lights being off. She moved to turn the lights on, coming face to face with a home made sign and Sadie yelling surprise.

      - What is this? - she smiled, leaning down to pick Sadie up.

      - You're done, it's a party. - Bucky chuckled, pointing to the sign. - We have reservations in about 3 hours. Bought an ice cream cake and Sadie made you a card.

      - You shouldn't have done this.

      - What? After 3 years and a half of you moaning and whining over psychology, you need a nice night out.

      - You do know she'll start crying at around 10.

      - That's why we have dinner reservations at 6.30 and once she's in bed, I will allow you full control of the television. How does that sound?

      - I may not pass.

      - You got this far. You deserve a celebration just for you.

taglist: @talesofadragon @themermaidscales82 @winters1917 @vladsgirlxx @stinkerbelle007 @maybefoxysouls @blackwood-bodecker-housewife @chipilerendi @kandis-mom @belennasif @abitofblues @buckybarnessimpp

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan/reader #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan/you #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan/y/n #bucky barnes #bucky imagine #bucky #bucky x reader #bucky/reader #bucky x y/n #bucky/y/n #bucky x you #bucky/you

[finniestoncrane]

Finnie you know who this is (I wish they let you send asks from a side account 😭😭). ANYWAY soooo per our discussion, I would like to request 2022 Ozzie being a gentle Dom but specifically focusing on his fingers. 👀👀 The coldness of his rings contrasting the warmth of readers body, how he may tease them until they say "please" and then he's willing to do anything for them.

Also if it could be plus size reader, that would be fantastic uwu. 💙💙

Two Fingers

Farrell!Penguin x Fem!Reader, word count: 1.75k fingers fingers fingers fingers fingers i am going insane over this request bug and it cheered me up immensely while i was writing it at my desk BUT it kinda got away from me lmao i hope reader was plus sized enough, i always forget to describe reader because i spent so long training myself not to lol 💜🐧 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: teasing, fingering, nipple play, gentle dom ozzie

"Two fingers of scotch, sweetheart."

You stopped in your tracks, arms on either side of you, pushing you up from the cushion. Looking over to Oswald's desk, you caught his eye, and he smiled towards you.

"If you're getting up to go to the bar."

"Oh! I wasn't actually. I was getting up to come over and see you."

You stood up from the sofa in the corner of Oswald's office, your perch, as he called it. The place you sat most evenings, waiting for him to finish up his work. When you reached him, you jutted your hip out and rested against the edge of the desk, laying your palm delicately against the lapel of his suit jacket.

"I thought that maybe you'd be better comforted by a warm touch, than a stiff drink. Besides, with the day you've had? Do you really think two fingers'll be enough?"

He grinned, gold tooth catching in the light, twinkling in sync with his eyes as a mischievous sparkled in them.

"Two fingers is always enough."

You fed into the flirting, encouraging it with your smile and batting your eyelashes at him. Running the edge of the lapel between your fingers, you stared at his lips, biting softly at your own as you held back the embarrassing, excited giggle that threatened to escape you. In an attempt to maintain composure, you took a deep breath, exhaling with a sultry sigh, and shifted ever so slightly closer to him.

"Is that so?"

"Oh yeah, you'd be surprised at what two fingers can accomplish. Or, rather, toots, you'd be amazed at what I can do with two fingers."

No longer able to suppress the glee in the giggle you let out, you practically jumped at the way he spoke to you. Low, growling, so incredibly attractive. You were moving closer to him, now on the same side of the desk as Oswald. He turned in his chair, resting his palms on the widest part of your hips. His fingers tickled delicately over the surface of your protrusions and curves as he moved his hands up and down your sides, guiding you with him as he turned his chair back around to face the desk. He let his touch linger as you settled into your new position, sandwiched between his body, still seated, and the desk, which you rested against.

You stood still, your legs between Oswald's which were spread wide apart to give you space. The way he looked up at you made you feel like a work of art, gazed on from people smaller than you, people down on the ground. People who were trying to get to the same level as you, reaching for the pedestal that Oswald sat you on.

"Ok then, what can you do with two fingers then, Mr Cobblepot?"

It drove him wild when you teased him, even more so when you added an air of faux formality to it.

"A lotta things! Sign checks, make business deals, command my empire. Which way will Cesar Cobblepot's thumb fall, y'know?"

"Impressive. That's all business though, what about something more personal?"

Oswald let his hands drop down the back of your thighs, swooping round to the front where he lifted the hem of your skirt, just enough to expose your knees and let his thumbs graze over them.

"Well, I can hold open a door for my beautiful princess. I can summon a waiter over to take her order. I can send her a message to cheer-"

"The way you type, you only use one finger. And you do it with your nose pressed all the way right up to the screen."

You smiled, satisfied to get a gentle dig in. He raised his hands to his heart, mimicking some sort of fake pain your words had caused him before throwing his arms out to the sides.

"Listen, you forget I'm an old man! And I don't quite need glasses yet, sugar. Let me have that one."

You placed your hand on his cheek, your own eyes now boring into his deep, dark brown irises, making a note of the creases and lines that branched out from the corners of his heavy lids, the ones that shifted in different ways depending on what kind of smile he gave you.

"Ok, what else then?"

"Lemme think... Oh! I can do this."

He brought two fingers to your bottom lip, pushing on it gently until they parted and your mouth opened. Oswald stroked at the velvet skin, watching it tremble slightly at his touch, the sudden crossing from verbal flirting to physical shocking you in an entirely pleasant way.

"I can surprise you with just two fingers, huh? Make you speechless?"

You nodded, a small sound at the back of your throat cut short as he moved his fingers further back on your lips. Watching you carefully, keeping an eye out for any subtle, or obvious, signs of disagreement with his movements, he pressed those two large, thick fingers into your mouth. Laying them flat on your tongue. Licking his own lips as you pressed the muscle flat out against your chin, drool forming and spilling onto your face.

"I can show you who's boss too."

Oswald brought his hand to your cheek, rough fingertips grazing gently over your flushed skin, tingling at the tiny, soft hairs that stood on end as he brushed past, electrifying them. His digits continued, skipping over the shell of your ear, catching a loose strand of hair in the process and pushing it back, threading it into place.

"I can keep you neat and tidy, lookin' perfect."

His walked the digits down your front, sweeping them to the side of your body and pressing them into your plush curves, watching your plump skin fold under his pressure, indenting with the soft force, and pushing back out again into the soft curves he admired so much.

But as gentle as he was, he turned the other way completely, looping two fingers in the gap between your top button and the next one, tugging sharp on your shirt and bursting it open.

"Or, I can make a mess of you."

He tugged again, another button popping open with the strength of just his fingers, until your shirt had exposed your bra completely. He dipped two into the cup and pulled it down, revealing your breast, your nipple hardening as he grazed his fingertips over it.

Oswald drew a circle around your nipple, watching your skin shiver despite flushing with heat. Pinching you, teasing your nipple out and pulling your breast with it, he smiled as your breath became heavier, chest rising and falling against his grip. Once he let go, he began flicking his finger over the nipple, tickling you, teasing you, and you could barely hold back from asking for more.

"What else? What else can you do?"

"You wanna know? You gotta ask nicely, sugar."

"Please, Ozzie. Please show me."

Quicker than you thought possible, Oswald had his two fingers gliding up your thigh, pressing into the skin, watching the way your thickness dimpled under him. And then he had them under the hem of your skirt, both of them pressed together and rubbing your desperate pussy over your underwear.

Your body reacted immediately, grinding into him, keening and whining for more, satisfied with his two fingers, but needing them closer to you, to feel them on your skin. And sensing this, he pulled your panties to the side, letting his digits stroke against your swollen lips, spreading them apart and closing them around your clit.

As you bucked up towards him, he rolled the sensitive bud between his fingertips, biting down on his lip as he watched the way you held your breath, letting it go in long, trembling sighs when you couldn't hold it any longer. Those two fingers, now coated in your slick, coaxing your arousal on their own with ease. Forcing you to buck your hips towards him as you silently, but not subtly, asked for more.

And he obliged, letting his fingers slide between your lips and inside of you. Thick, strong, pulsing as he explored you, beginning to fuck you with them as you felt the definite threat of orgasm burn inside of you. He pressed further, the sharp cool of his rings as they came into contact with your skin serving as a delicious change in texture, one that made you mutter some expletive much to Oswald's amusement.

He rotated his wrist, fingers deep in you, down to the knuckles, hooked and tapping at the exact right spot to have you almost doubling over. It took so much effort to keep yourself balanced as you felt those two digits, manicured nails, polished rings, the hair close to the knuckles, now covered in your slick as he pumped them in and out to a purposeful beat. If you hadn't had something to concentrate on, like not falling, you knew you would have cum long ago.

The edge of the desk felt like it could snap under your white knuckle grip as you clung to it, your whines growing into moans, which gave way to a desperate scream as you reached your climax, clenching around Oswald's fingers as he spoke to you, endless praise, notes of admiration, 'good girls' being let out in a steady rhythm as he saw you through every ounce of pleasure.

With a shuddering breath and a soft whimper, you let the last vibrations of your orgasm roll over you, collapsing against the desk and steadying yourself on wobbling legs.

"See, what'd I tell ya?"

Your chest heaved as you caught your breath, body settling down post-orgasm, muscles relaxing, fingers untensing. You'd been hoping for such a tremendous example of what he was capable of, even though you already knew very well, and of course, being Oswald Cobblepot, he had delivered.

Watching him with hazy vision and half-lidded eyes you took in his every move. The slow, precise way he produced the napkin from under his empty whisky glass, running his two fingers along the flat of it before licking the last of your slick from them, a low moan rumbling in his chest at your taste.

Catching your eye, the lustful gaze with which you focused on him, he winked, offering you another of his knowing, mischievous grins.

"Two fingers, two of my fingers, are all you need, sweetheart."

#reeves!verse #finnie writes #oswald cobblepot #the penguin #the batman 2022 #colin farrell penguin #the batman fanfic #the batman 2022 fic #oswald cobblepot x reader #oswald cobblepot x you