#sometimes moreso than i like the words inside

[yuellii]

catch me if you can, salvatore

𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 there are quite obvious red flags in your relationship, and they’re all from him

feat. neuvillette, zhongli, pierro ( separately )

note. reader’s gender unspecified, the old men of genshin ( i’m so sorry ), established toxic marriages given the prompt, possible fontaine lore inconsistencies

> [part one] . part two

NEUVILLETTE. always too serious

Your bedroom was a space sadly quieter than even the outdoors. For at least on your doorstep, the sounds of crickets were heard, the mechanical noises of distant construction were there—but here, there was not even a sound.

Perhaps you were too sensitive. But you also thought a spouse had every right to feel love and respect from their husband, and you felt none of that. The suffocation of this Fontaine air only brought up an even more suffocating man, and you fear you may lose your breath before even coming to your senses.

“You’re up late.” He stood right behind you at the opening of the balcony. Of course, you didn’t hear him coming from inside that silent fortress of a household. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

His words—you wish he didn’t say them, for they’ll unwillingly fill your thoughts with the idea that he cares. But sometimes ( or perhaps most ), you were too foolish to counteract that.

“Couldn’t sleep,” you simply said, continuing to stare out into the blue aura of the nation. A technicolor world made of music and machine—but unfortunately, your husband was only like a machine. “Was so caught up awake, completely immersed by your current court performance,” you yawned sarcastically.

He grumbled, “It’s a court hearing, not a silly performance.” Then, he joined you at the bar of the balcony, perhaps far too distanced from you for your liking. He was never next to you; always paces away just light tonight. “And I’ve been telling you, I can sign you up as a spectator or part of the jury.”

You almost snarled after he failed to pick up your sarcasm. “I’d rather die before you did that,” you scoffed. “Me? Sitting in that stuffy courthouse whilst you talk for hours? If it were my way, Her Grace would’ve had her way a long time ago. Perhaps you can learn from her, sometime. It can loosen you up for once.” He turned to glare at you.

“Oh, spare me the levity.” From the way he suddenly straightened his back, presenting himself a towering height over you, you knew you were about to be scolded. “If you cannot take the Court of Fontaine for what it is instead of a laughing stock, than perhaps you should be the next one on a treason hearing for exile.”

Your stomach dropped. As inconceivable as it sounded, you wouldn’t put it past him with how booming his tone was. And… coming from your own husband… “I wasn’t trying to be disrespectful, good Monsieur.” To very man that wore your wedding band. “But spare me one truth…”

“Right now, are you my husband, or are you the Chief Justice?”

You immediately regretted the question once his eyes looked ready to kill.

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ZHONGLI. overprotective

Sunrise, Midday, Sunset, Midnight.

You could only see the light from the cold glass of your window, or the freshest air from your porch. Sometimes the fresh sea breeze of the harbor, but that was more of a rarity.

You loved Liyue Harbor; so did your husband. Living in Jueyun Karst was safe, sure, but it was boring. And maybe, there was a time that you loved the harbor so much during Lantern Rite—a time where lanterns graced the sky and fireworks were heard all the way from your small home in Minlin. So much, in fact, you almost felt like Rapunzel in those fairytale books when she leaped out of the comforts of her tower to chase the lights.

And even moreso like Rapunzel when Zhongli saw you at the harbor with a look of horror on his face, not caring of the genuine smile you carried before dragging you away by the wrist. Perhaps it was then that you felt more like his scolded child than his ‘beloved’ spouse.

Could he not see the light in your eyes as you pranced around the harbor? Could he not understand how boring it was to be cooped up in the mountains for your ‘safety’? It sucked, it really did. And it sucked even more once you tasted freedom at the harbor, once you met people that would never shackle down your life to never experience the many joys that Liyue had to offer.

“Am I your partner, or your controlled child?!” you seethed once he dragged you back inside the house.

“I am simply bringing you back after you failed to listen to me,” Zhongli calmly stated. Calm, he was also so calm, emotions be damned. “I told you not to go to the harbor, especially on your own. Have I told you what happened before through the tale of Osial?”

You coughed out in exasperation. “You’re acting like this during a festival?” There was a clear betrayal in your voice—it was truly something he had been hiding from you all this time. “You’re just going to let me be locked up in here, because you think a festival is unsafe?”

“It’s for your protection.”

“‘Protection’, give me a break, Zhongli.” You were near desperate to go back, like once you got an inch of freedom, you suddenly needed it all—but perhaps he only saw you like a partner who needs to be more controlled. “I married you for all your adventurous tales,” you reasoned. “You sounded much more excitingly interesting than you actually are, I fear.”

He continued to stare at you, face hardening into something of a glare like a parent disciplining a child. You hated it. You hated this, you hated him. And as he walked back out with the door locked by some force, you could only wonder how you married a man so cruel.

⎯ ✧ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

PIERRO. a master manipulator

“You know I love you.”

The large pads of his fingers massaged coarsely through your hair at the very top of your head, brushing the your scalp almost delicately like a doll.

“Right?”

It felt almost like Hell itself to feel flutters in your stomach from the way the deep mess of his voice resounded in your ears. It was akin to signing a contract with the devil, like this feeling of infatuation was a demon’s sickly trick. “I do.”

He hummed in contentment. Not like you pleased him with your answer, but like you answered him correctly, as if this some sort of test where there was only one right answer.

He had you seated down on his lap, and it still made you feel like a doll. But there was an uncertainty in it—one that made you question if you should be feeling used and disgusted, or in love with being pampered by your husband like this.

You married a leading man of the most dangerous elites. Perhaps the fluttering feelings pulling at your heart were more of a warning sign than something good, but you couldn’t help it when he made you feel so special. Special words, special treatment—so painfully addicting and so obvious to win your favor for your hand in marriage.

“When the time comes,” he whispered once more, as if speaking the holy words only pure lovers could dare to hear, “would you die for me?”

You should’ve know this was coming, truly. It should’ve been clear the moment he courted you, and painfully obvious once he wanted to wed you. A puppet he could control at his will, someone who looked so innocent compared to the dangerous looks of the Fatui—a person easily stricken by love and compliments, easily you.

But he captured your heart in a way that was devouring, like your love was swallowed into a black hold the moment you showed any weakness. He trapped you in a web you could not escape once pulled in, and you feared you were truly doomed from the start. But that was how the leader of the Harbingers worked; and that was how you gave up your life.

“Yes, I would.”

#zhongli x reader #neuvillette x reader #pierro x reader #harbingers x reader #genshin men x reader #genshin imagines #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin x reader

[granolawriting]

A change in fate ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

pairing: no breakout!Joel x fem reader

Summary: Your toxic ex kicks you out of your place without another word. Only hiring a mover to get your stuff somewhere else. And when Joel finds you in a state of disarray, and stays indifferent, you butt heads until it comes to a head when your paths cross again after that night. That time, much more complicated.

Content warning: age gap, you're 21 and Joel is mid 30s to early 40s. Enemies to lovers.

word count: 4k

A/N: this is the first of a two-part series inspired by an old movie I grew up with. If you can recognize it, I'll like, give you a really big treat. no nsfw this chapter, but the next one will. And as always, let me know if you like my work or if you have any suggestions for anything else I could write :)

Part 2 out now!!: to make you forget

“NO. No. No no no no no no no NO!!!” 

Your fist hits solid wood once more. Every slam that pounds upon its impenetrable front leaves a mark on your hand in the shape of bruises and soreness-- you try the door once more. It's locked, as it had been the last ten times you attempted to open it. Desperation laced in the fruitless fervor that played its sound of metal clanking on metal as the knob refused to turn. 

The thump on the ground follows a fall of your knees. Defeated, hopeless, in a dress that isn't even yours. Tears stream from your face in such passion you can't even feel them anymore as more of you is wet than it is dry. You imagine you look a mess, hair disheveled as you held it as you screamed at him-- makeup once beautiful and elegant streams down and across your face in the motion your hands chose to wipe away your tears. 

A screeching of tires followed by the shutting of a door is what knocks you out of this pathetic display. A man walks over to you and begins to pick up the boxes right beside you, carrying them to the back of his truck that has the title “MOVERS” painted on its side. You clamor to your feet, disorientation doesn't help the heels strapped to your feet as you chase after him;

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going with those? Who the hell are you?”

Rancor coats your tongue as your anger spits out onto him, He stands in the middle of an empty parking lot with only the light emanating from houses and lamps decorating the street are you able to take him in. 

He was tall, perhaps 6ft, an older man. Salt and pepper hair covered just above his forehead and a stern face was complimented by equally gruff facial hair of similar color, and a frown that seemed natural for him. He wore an old jacket-- probably made in the same year you were born with plaid linings on its inside to support a Carhartt branded outside. All the clothes upon his body seemed worn, from the stained jeans and a belt fitted so many times it might as well have been made for the exact curve of his body, to the heavy worker's boots with every scratch telling a story beyond your years. He looks at you. Up and down his eyes register curiously the woman that stood before him. He scoffs, and with a low Texan drawl he replies in kind; 

“Well princess, looks here like someone was kind enough to get yourself a mover for all them boxes outside the house. ‘Supose you know where i'm to drop em off?” 

“They can stay right here.” 

It comes out of you not in a literal sense, but you guess a plea of desperation. You can't imagine that this is actually happening. You can't just leave. After all the years you spent with him, all the hours you poured into his care and the best he can do is call up some old guy to take your shit somewhere else? 

“Now you know I can't do that. I ain't come all the way down here just for’ nothin. Now, I was hired to move, least you can let me do is my job.” 

His palms outstretched to you as he finishes putting the first box in the back of his truck, looking to you with little care for what you’re properly going through, moreso just a plea to let him go home sometime before 1 in the morning. 

your breath grows uneven again, you feel something build up in you again as you just refuse to accept this. Turning your back to him, you storm over to another box untouched by him and kick it, screaming and crying and truly just making a mess of yourself as you collapse once again on the curb of the sidewalk. Folding your arms across your knees, and with a head buried deep in your chest you sit there for a moment as you listen to the crunch of his boots against the loose gravel along the pavement trail back and forth past you as each box is stored into the vehicle. 

“Still haven't given me an address. Or were ya’ thinkin' of just sitting here and lettin' me take yer’ things?” 

Irritation follows his tone as he becomes increasingly impatient about your behavior. 

“I don't have anywhere to go.” 

“Surely you got someplace. Now get a move on, I'm bout damn tired of all this.” 

He drags you up by your upper arms, feeling his calloused hands hold onto the smoothness of your body as he lifts you to your feet. Shocked though, you push him away from you in haste;

“I can get up by myself. Thank you very much.”

You dust yourself off for just a moment before continuing, he looks at you with impatience.

“And I need a ride.” 

He stammers a bit as he begins to speak, 

“A- fucking,? Damn. alright then. Just get the hell on alright? Sure you wouldn't want em’ having to pay me extra.” 

He walks back to his truck as you follow, The two footsteps upon the concrete road are all that can be heard in the neighborhood as your pain slowly wells into your chest, and the outbursts cease. 

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

“Now, listen here. We've been drivin' for damn near an hour now, and ain't nothing come of it. Where the hell am I takin you? Or I'm about to leave ya on the side of the damn road. I've got a kid at home.” 

“Just take me to the other side of town.”

“Are you fuckin kidding me? Now, I don't know what you've got goin on and I truly, don't want to. But you're real damn selfish ya know that? Makin me drive all over town like this like I'm some goddamn taxi. This place best got some money to pay me for.” 

His voice is deep, gruff, and when laced with the anger of a despondent woman who seems as if she has all the time in the world he's not keen to hold back judgment anymore. His hand grips the steering wheel firmly and doesn't look at you for a moment as he speaks to you. 

You're taken aback, to say the least. After the pain you've felt, the torment you've faced the only thing to greet you is the unwanted mouth of some old man who doesn't know what he's talking about.

“I'm selfish? You don't know the night I've had. How can you call me selfish? You were hired for a reason so why don't you just do your fucking job okay? As long as you’re getting paid it shouldn't matter a damn to you.” 

You shrug your shoulders and cross your arms in his passenger seat, watching him with disdain as he grips the wheel and drives relatively carelessly through the empty streets just to get you out. 

After a few minutes more, and by a few you mean around 30, you find yourself in front of a home you’d never think to see again truthfully. As you take in the sight of it, a simple house facing an otherwise unimpactful street, but you held memories of all your years within the confines of these blocks. You were home, after so many years away. 

“Get out.” 

He says bluntly. The clock shines a bright 1:47 on its dash, signifying that you definitely didn't meet his “before 1” pleas. But damn, could he have been any nicer about it? 

You watch as he hops out of the car himself, to the sound of a hard opening of the back that held all your belongings. And as you made your way ever so slowly out of his truck, trying to not fall as the step was coated in the darkness of the night that was no longer politely illuminated by street lights. As you made your way to the concrete below you, rounding his truck was he almost done putting your stuff back out, only on a different curb this time. And without a second to spare, he gets back into his truck, and leaves. Not a word said to you, not even an exchange.

What an asshole. 

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

“So you’re telling me, that the man you were with for how many years, kicked you out for what?” 

The voice of your childhood friend rang once more through the old walls of the house, in the kitchen where you two sat. this was her family home, one that she now inherited, and one that after many years of silence on your part, she gladly opened up to you as well. 

“We were together almost 3 years. And he just, found another girl I guess. But she was in my closet, filled with her clothes. It's as if he’d moved me out overnight. He didn't have a word to say to me, it's like I never even mattered to him. But I've told you this time and time again, what more can I even do at this point?” 

She repositions herself with her legs crossing over one another as she looks for a response, taking a sip of coffee before having it dawn on her. 

“Today. 3 pm. Uncles holding a barbeque. You remember my uncle right? Everyone will be there. Maybe we could find you a good little rebound to bring you down to earth.” 

“Are you- a rebound? Seriously? Is that all you can think of right now?” 

“Listen. The only thing you can do with a broken heart is fix it. And that doesn't happen in a day. Least you can do is get something tasty to chase the pain with. Like hot old guys. You’re only 21! This is the prime time to do whatever you want.” 

You think for a second. Letting this wash over you as you try and figure out the next thing to do. Do you really doll yourself up after the most traumatic evening of your life is not even 24 hours in your past, just to eye all of your friends older relatives, and family friends that you’ve been ogling at since you were 16? 

I mean fuck it, what else are you going to do. 

Following your friend up the stairs, she lets out an excited giggle at the prospect of having you back after so many years. There's so many things to tell, different people to see, and subsequently laugh at, but the best of all her skills with a brush have gotten much better since the last time she helped you look good. Much better, apparently for as you looked at yourself in the mirror you could barely recognize the woman looking back at you-- let alone any trace of the girl sat in a torn dress the night before screaming outside her ex’s house. 

You put on a pretty yellow dress, adorned with flowers It's hemmed all properly frilled to some level, and the flow of the skirt portion barely getting over your back end does the top also treat you well; a low neck cup to shape your chest perfectly as the daintiness of your outfit, paired with little yellow heels, made you look properly irresistible. 

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

“Guess whos backkk!!!”

The excited shrills of your friend beside you make everyone who'd arrived at the party thus far to crane their heads back to look, all of which subsequently smiled with shock as they looked upon you. None of them had seen you since you were 17, about 18 years old. That's when you left, the moment you could. Looking back you missed all of this so much, the community, the story told in every face that looked upon you. But all is lost now and the most you can do is make the best out of the time you have right now-- and as it stands you’re at the center of it all. 

They approach you by the droves, asking every question they can that have undoubtedly had rumored answers to in your absence; detailing from where you've been, what you’re doing, where you go to school, where you work, and most hurtful-- how your ex was doing. You briefly told them all that you and him had since parted, and that you were just getting back on track, spending some time at your friend's house in the meantime. They all looked upon you in sympathy, but as more people entered the party the more they dispersed to greet other guests. 

“Oh my god, is that who I think it is?” 

A low, familiar tone enters the backyard where you stand, and turning around to face you is your friend's father. Who, for most of your life was like a father to you as well. He opens his arms and you follow suit, embracing him in what feels like a much-needed hug, before setting you down again to continue talking to you. 

“Oh, honey if, if I'd known you were coming I'd have brought you something. How long has it been since I last saw you? God, you seem so grown up now. It's like I barely even know you.” 

His head moves to look behind him for a second, and soon he ushers someone forward to join in the conversation. 

“Ah, there's something I'd love for you to meet. This is a good friend of mine, Joel. I haven't had him around any of these much, he just moved back here from Texas a couple weeks back. But he's someone I've known my whole life. Kinda like you and my daughter in a way!” 

Though as the man who emerged behind him reared his head, you couldn't believe your eyes. It was him, of course, it was him. That asshole that drove you home like you were the greatest burden he's ever had to carry. 

“Yer fuckin kidding me.” 

He looks at you in shock. Nothing more. However, you see that to his side is a young girl, no older than 12 who seems to be in awe over you. Her hair was tucked into each side of her face to illuminate it in a crown of curls that came to her shoulder and stretched all the way to her ears in volume. She wore a small shark tooth necklace, and some form of singer on her shirt that you didn't recognize.

He-, Joel, looks down at her; 

“Sarah how bout you go say hi to your friends for me. I'm gonna be busy a moment” 

She runs off, and your friend's dad begins to speak again. 

“Do you, know each other from somewhere? I can't imagine you do.” 

“She's that insane little girl I told you ‘bout. The one kickin n’ screaming all over the place. Reason why Sarah hadta’ stay the night at your place.” 

“The insane little girl?” 

You chime in.

“There's no way- Joel, you’ve probably got the wrong girl” 

“No, he has the right one.” 

You stare directly at him, sending daggers into each of the brown eyes that look back at you. 

“He kicked me out of his car at almost 2 in the morning without a single word. Isn't that right?” 

Though no matter how piercing your gaze it fails to impact him as it should, for with equal level tone he snipes back; 

“Yep, after makin me drive all the way cross’ town just cause she wanted to. Knowin I got someone waitin’ for me. Clearly, something she don't understand all too much anymore.” 

That was unnecessary. 

Something brews inside of you as you glance upon his finger void of a ring, even a tan that would indicate its recent removal. Though as the only sane-minded person seemingly left to observe watches your eyes as you make such a connection, he swiftly puts an end to it. 

“Now, Joel. you know how young girls are they-” 

“I'm not that young.” 

“Alright well, they. Are just passionate, that's all. She was with him for how many was it now? Three years? Left the moment she turned of age. Clearly she just doesn't know how a mans supposed to be. This is all she really knows.” 

This is all she really knows.

That's all that rang through your head as the conversation died and Joel exchanged brief apology. That in a way, he was all you really knew. And now you’re back home, and you don't know what to do with yourself, really. You don't know what you like, or what you don't like. It was all just, him. For so long. You vowed to yourself that day that, no matter what went on you would say yes to anything. To embrace kind of, anything that came your way as some divine fate, or at the very least a fun experience. 

As the night droned on, and you fielded the barrage of squeals, hugs from people you don't remember, and a bit more liquor you could've accounted for, the night came to a slow end. Feeling eyes on you constantly was one thing, but feeling the eyes on the man with who’d you'd had a comfortable reunion was even worse in a way. Although, as you looked upon him in your own moments you saw in him something unveiled after the veil of hatred and sorrow fell off of you. Something, interesting about him. Attractive. Obviously nothing you were going to personally indulge in, but an interesting assertion nonetheless. He stood in the light of the evening, fairy lights covering the backyard as it illuminated his now more time-appropriate outfit; one of marginally better jeans and a plaid shirt, rolled to his elbows to reveal what were impressive forearms, and with the proper fit of his shirt, showed an impressive physique for a single dad.

… … …

 Thats stupid. Anyways, the night drew to a close and as you saw your friend too wrapped up in the conversation of someone relatively older than her, you decided to take the few blocks walk home, especially since you didn't have a car anymore either. Though as you exit the front door to travel down the sidewalk you hear a familiar accent call out to you after only a few feet have been made distance between you and the doorframe; 

“Ya’ walking home this late at night?” 

“Yeah, I am. Not like I've got a car do I?” 

You turn your body to look at him, but only after you've finished your sentence, using the body language of someone unequipped for any more stupid banter to cue him into leaving you alone. 

“How’s about I drive you home. Least I can do after what I’d said today. It wasent quite my place.” 

His voice has an unfamiliar tune of sympathy as he lets out that apology of sorts, so you engage. Though, begrudgingly. 

“Don’t you have a daughter to take care of? That seemed what got you so mad before.” 

He sighs a little, you notice you've hit a bit of a nerve. 

“Well, she’ll be stayin' at a friend's place for a few days, really hit it off. Got nothin but time on my hands now.” 

“Well in that case I'm not gonna say no to a free ride. Obviously.” 

You smile a bit, a first with him. Other than ones of sarcasm, every interaction you've had with him thus far hasn't been all that pleasant. And he smiles back. And, as the light of the moon shines down upon his weathered face, the smirk on his makes your smile grow even more. 

Hopping into his car once more, you take the road to your place with a little more enjoyment than how it transpired the night before. This time, the sound of his music accompanied by a hum through his car is what played to fill the silence of the atmosphere. Something old, country, of course. You’d never heard it, and it sounded well beyond even his years. But despite that, there was a comforting air that was shared in the car-- cool air blowing in from the windows rolled down, watching as his arm held on to the side of the car door from the open window, tapping its side in unison to the beat. 

“This here is it right?” 

Pulling up to your shared home you felt almost a little reluctant to respond with a yes. Though when you do, he steps out of the car as you do as well. You watch as he awaits your circle to the front where he stood, as a means to walk with you to the front of your door. Looking at him curiously as you reach the entrance, he gives response to your motions, though you watch as his fingers fiddle with one another ever so slightly as he poses such a response;

“It ain’t right leaving a lady to walk all by herself after dropping her off. And, I just wanted to say again that it ain't my place makin assumptions about you like that. Wanted to know if I could make it up to ya’. Kinda seems like lifes dealt you a bad hand right now, thought to offer you a drink over it.” 

A drink? 

You thought about that for a second. The man that kicked you out of his car, literally less than 24 hours ago, is now offering to take you out for a drink. Well, it was as a means for apology. So that's something. Nothing more to it, it's a Southern thing. They drink to anything. Especially sorrow. 

“I think I’ll have to take you up on that. You’ll know where I’ll be.” 

You reply with a smile that grows just large enough to show your teeth. He gazed at you for a bit longer, as his eyes grew brighter at the prospect of an invitation accepted. He was a lot less harsh than meets the eye, it seemed. But you still weren't properly convinced. And, there was still much a mystery about him that although intimidated you, enticed you even more. You cock your hip to the side of the doorframe, leaning up against it as he spoke to you as a means to accentuate your figure just a bit as he looked at you. Just to see what would happen. 

“Oh, alright then. 7 alright with you? I’ll come pick you up course’.” 

“Seven’s more than alright with me. I'll see you then, Joel.” 

As you bid farewell to him, you watched as his eyes tracked your movements as you did so. The way your hips have shifted place, the tone at which your voice shifted ever so slightly. He took in your gaze, a small cat eye that sharpened your eyes paired with the sly smile of a woman your age was enough to catch his stare for a moments longer than it should've. You relished in that. 

He leaves you off with a nod and a smile, though you take the time that he walks back to his truck as a means to take in all that he was without interruption. He was handsome, to say the least. There was something to be said about a man with southern hospitality and an ass made from manual labor that reached deeper into a realm of attraction that was often untapped by the men of your age range. And you enjoyed greatly that you’d discovered such a thing. 

Tomorrow, 7pm, Joel. 

#joel #joel miller smut #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel smut #joel fanfic #joel miller #joel miller x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #pedro x reader #pedro pascal #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfic #joel tlou x reader

[sanjisblackasswife]

How The Monster Trio Act When They’re Needy(NSFW)

Black Fem Reader in Mind

Ft. Sanji, Zoro, Luffy

Sanji

You catch him staring at you with blush all over his face , it’s mostly because while you were walking around the ship he was imagining the last time he made you cum and now he wants to do it again

He kisses you a lot, whether it’s your lips, or hands he needs an excuse to touch you, he mostly aims for your knuckles

It’s not annoying persay but he whines a little while talking to you, he drags your name out, more chirpy than usual.

He speaks more French. Moreso compliments you in the language whether you can understand French or not he will talk his way into your panties

Luffy

If he doesn’t just straight up ask you for sex he will be clingy like a baby koala . He will latch on to your body and squeeze your breast or thighs every once in a while. It’s kinda cute cuz he pouts a lot despite how he’s acting towards your body

Okay speaking of asking for sex, 2 things and about 1: He never says “Sex” or anything similar to it he refers to sex as “that thing” or “play time”, and 2. he only does it when you both are alone. You’ve told him many times if he wants something sexual then to tell you in private. So if he catches you alone he’ll tug your arm and say, “Can we do the thing again? When I was inside you?”

Very quiet. It’s a rare occurrence but his mind is lost in thought. Sometimes it’s blank and others it’s thinking of you bouncing on his Dick. Either way the silence always catches your attention first and that’s when Luffy does a big smile and drags you to the bedroom.

Stares at your tits a lot. He really likes boobjobs and so when he is in the mood he just oogles your chest mindlessly like your eyes are down there.

Zoro

Smirks and glances at you alot. He wants you to know that he is staring at you. It’s not like you can ignore it though, you always feel a form of weight on your back when his eye pierces at you.

He only talks in your ear. If you’re running around on the deck he will only call out your name once. When you see its Zoro he will motion you with two fingers to come here and he will hold you by your waist, lips grazing your ear just to whisper, “Come sit with me I want to take a nap.” It has absolutely no reason to make you flustered but he does

Sometimes if he really wants it he just throws you over his shoulder, and takes you to the crows nest. No words needed

He tries to make you needy as well so you can be the one begging for it. Zoro never begs. He’s a stubborn asshole so he would rather have blue balls then beg for sex from you. So he will dirty talk in your ear, and his fingers dance on the fabric of your cunt since you just HAD to wear a short skirt today and he won’t stop teasing you until you break.

#sanji #sanjionepiece #TimikosMonsterTrio #one piece #black reader #one piece x female reader #female reader #black foot sanji #x female reader #one piece headcanons #one piece smut #sanji imagine #sanji x black reader #sanji x reader #one piece x black!reader #zoro headcanons #zoro hcs #one piece scenario #sanji smut #luffy headcanons #ronoroa zoro #one piece zoro #luffy #luffy smut #zoro x reader #luffy x reader #monster trio #Monster trio Headcanons

[bratphilia]

nsfw alphabet: mike schmidt

note: i am a nsfw alphabet virgin so please be kind ^-^ also the wild card was so self indulgent byeskdj

taglist: @dilfity

a = aftercare

mike checks up on you, during and after sex. he brings you water and anything sweet. will also take a shower or bath with you that sometimes ends in round two.

b = body part

doesn't have one tbh. he's obsessed with your boobs, big or small, he likes to make the peaks harden with his fingers while the other is in his mouth. he loves clutching at your chest when you're riding him and looking at your pair while you suck him off. but he's also an ass man — again — big or small. loves to smack it, grab it, knead it, or finish on it.

c = cum

only comes inside when he's pussy-drunk and forgets to pull out. he doesn't want kids but he'll entertain the idea of coming inside if you have a breeding kink, then he'll just buy you a plan b. again, loves to pull out and come on your chest or ass.

d = dirty secret

wants you to tie him up when he's feeling needy, OR wants you to call him daddy.

e = experience

a lot of mike's experience comes from random occurences, such as high school flings, but since he's been taking care of his sister he hasn't had much of his adult life to explore sex that much. he watched a lot of porn to cope with the sexual frustration and it's hard for him to build relationships with women outside his family. it's complicated.

f = favorite position

LOVES IT WHEN YOU RIDE HIM. he gets to see everything, from your pretty little reactions, the way is cock disappears inside and reappears outside your pussy, and he gets to play with your tits

g = goofy

sometimes he'll laugh at some of the things he says when he's dirty talking to you like he can't believe he just said it. he also sometimes can't keep a straight face if you two are roleplaying. other than that, sex is no laughing matter to him.

h = hair

his hair is as messy as the hair on his head. enough said.

i = intimacy

varies based on the context leading up to sex. sex used to mean a lot more to him meaning he would always make it romantic, passionate love making, but he's getting used to more rough sex and quickies.

j = jack off

his favorite way to get off is either you telling him what you want to do to him, or just masturbating to photos of you, purposefully sexy or not.

k = kink

i've included this in two fics so far and i'll say it again: he has a huge voyeurism kink. he doesn't necessarily want to watch someone else fuck you... but if he did? fuck, it would get him hard. he moreso wants someone to watch you guys.

l = location

bedroom but sometimes he can't just help it!! there's no time for when or how, he'll just have to have you right then and there. this is where he really gets annoying because the public teasing goes crazy with mike.

m = motivation

i kid you not he is literally like a wild cat that goes into heat every now and then. however, if you're wearing something of his (especially the classic big t-shirt + panties combo) he just can't contain himself. he's also very much motivated by his anger and stress.

n = no

would never do something that you guys didn't talk about first. he MIGHT entertain the idea of cnc, but you guys would have to go through every explicit detail of what you want him to do to you.

o = oral

blowjobs are fine. they get him off. but mans is the biggest munch that ever munched. he will literally come in his pants while you're riding his face, no stimulation required.

p = pace

again, depends on the mood and the context leading to sex. if he's in a needy mood, he's practically humping your leg and thrusting in erratically and babbling incoherent words. when he wants to be rougher, he'll push your face into the mattress and just pound into you.

q = quickie

king of quickies. they tend to be the most efficient way to fuck when he's a caretaker at his age.

r = risk

things have to be discussed beforehand, in very explicit detail. he honestly wouldn't know what to do to you otherwise. he just wants to satisfy you!!

s = stamina

he'd honestly just be happy as long as he can give you head and make you orgasm at least twice. that's enough for him.

t = toys

would never personally buy a toy but would use the fuck out of them to tease you with if you had any. but vibrators ONLY. he hates anything being inserted into you that isn't his cock, tongue, or fingers.

u = unfair

loves to tease and edge, but it depends on how much time you have and the situation. if it's out in public, he's teasing you and there's a twenty percent chance he'll actually let you come.

v = volume

has surprisingly trained himself to keep quiet for the sake of his sister, but a whimper escapes him every now and then. he loves to tell you to "shut the fuck up" when you need to be quiet.

w = wild card

if you dated him before and during the events at freddy's, you would be right there with him at his career counselling appointment, where he caught his counselor raking his eyes up and down your body. he decided, intrigued, he wants to try a threesome.

x = x-ray

average but very girthy. maybe about 5 inches?? i don't really see him as a grower.

y = yearning

he literally has two moods: in heat or dom. literally the definition of a switch.

z = zZz

he takes sleeping pills after you guys fuck, but tries to stay awake until you've fallen asleep first.

#fnaf #fnaf smut #fnaf x reader #five nights at freddy's #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt smut

[oigimi]

. warm drinks .

. arthur x reader . 1k words . day 1 of 12 days of arthur .

I sighed and flopped down on the couch by the fireplace. A hard day’s work had gotten to me, and my body physically couldn’t support itself any longer. Cleaning after ten vampires was not for the faint of heart. I closed my eyes for a moment, not because I was particularly sleepy, moreso due to fatigue. My eyelids couldn’t remain up anymore, and as they got heavier, I started to succumb to the spell over me. Just a few more moments…

“Ah, there you are, bird,” a familiar voice chimed. I didn’t open my eyes, but my other senses quickly registered who it was: The mansion flirt and prolific mystery author Arthur Conan Doyle. I sat up and stretched, taking a sharp inhale. 

“What do you want?”

“What do I want? I don’t know if you’d like the true answer,” Arthur chuckled. “Well it’s quite late and we haven’t seen you in hours.”

I blinked. “What do you mean? It’s only nine o’clock.”

“I disagree. The clock does too,” Arthur mused, pointing to the clock on the wall.

“Jesus, it’s two-?! I didn’t even realize, I just wanted to rest for a sec.” I rubbed my head and stood up. “No wonder I’m aching so badly. Jeez, my back hurts so bad.”

Arthur laughed a little bit. “Poor thing. If you’d fallen asleep in my bed I think you would have had a much better time.” Satisfied with the pout on my face, he looked around the room. “Alright, alright. Come on, I know what’ll make you feel better.”

“Oh really? And what’s that gonna be? A full body massage or something?”

“Don’t give me ideas! No, you’ll like this.” He led me through the dark hallway, almost reaching for my hand at one point before remembering we knew where we were. I couldn’t help but smile. Arthur was a lot of things. He was flirty, he was smart, he was determined, he was sometimes annoying, but deep down inside, he had a heart too big for him to know what to do with it. I could tell how much he cared for the other residents. He teased Isaac because he liked spending time with him. He was always around Theo despite his rough exterior because he understood him like no one other than Vincent. He was grateful for Comte and Sebastian. He coated his true feelings in a thick layer of frivolousness, refusing to let anybody peel it back. That was why he was leading me down this hallway. That was why he cared enough to look for me. And that was why I needed to begin trying to peel as much as I could until I got to the center one day.

“Okay, tell the truth. What’s happening?”

“Nothing! Nothing. You’re so abrasive, love. Here.” He entered the kitchen and turned the lights on. “Let’s get you to bed soon, but first…” With a few swift motions, he got out some milk and dark chocolate out. “I figured you’d need something to drink.”

I once again blinked quickly, and felt a swift, sharp pang in my chest. He was making hot chocolate for me? Really…? I had completed my psychoanalysis earlier, but it was still hard to fathom someone like him doing something so nice for me specifically. A man treating me sweetly, who ever could’ve thought? “Ah… thank you. Here!” I got on my toes and opened the cabinet, grabbing two china cups and a shaker of nutmeg. “Let’s drink it out of these. And it tastes better when you add nutmeg than sugar, in my opinion.”

“Nutmeg? Alright then. Are you sure we should drink out of those? You’re pulling out all the stops for me, I’m flattered. I hardly see you and Sebas using them. They must be for special occasions. Do you consider this a special occasion, (Y/N)?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know, really.” We heated up the chocolate and watched it boil. It wasn’t the only thing warming up; I felt my cheeks and ears slowly becoming pink as I became more aware of the intimacy of such a domestic situation. I turned my head to try and steal a glance at Arthur, who looked away from me. Apparently he was attempting to do the same. But why wasn’t he performing his usual schtick? 

“The chocolate is done,” he hummed, going to take it off the heat. Arthur poured it into the two cups, and added some warmed milk and nutmeg into both of them. “I hope you’re right about the nutmeg. I can’t say I’ve ever tried it with chocolate before.”

“Really? It seems so popular though!”

“Indeed it is, but I’m not a trend follower, am I?”

“Uh huh.” I laughed and sat down at the table, feeling some of the tension leave my body. “Alright, bottoms up.”

We each took a sip of the chocolate, and let out our own satisfied sounds in perfect sync. 

Arthur looked down at his cup and took another sip. “Mm, I daresay this is the best chocolate I’ve ever had. Perhaps it’s your nutmeg, perhaps it’s because you’re with me.”

“I might be able to say the same, really. Thanks, Arthur.”

“Oh? And why are you thanking me?” He rested his head on his hand, smiling a little bit. “For our time together?”

I nodded, huffing a little bit. “Yeah, I am! It means a lot to me, you know. Seeking me out so late and making something nice for me… It’s small but it really means something, you know. I think you’re a lot more genuine of a guy than you let on.”

He stared at me for a moment, a little stunned. “Well, if that’s how you feel.” Grinning again, he wrapped an arm around me and gently rested my head on his shoulder. I sighed again, this time, a little bit more peacefully. He smelled like fresh parchment and ink. I could’ve just basked in it forever, paired with his cologne and strong shoulders… My eyelids grew even heavier, and before I knew it I was asleep again.

Arthur kissed the top of my head, rubbing my side gently. “Goodnight…”

#12 days of arthur #ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp arthur #ikemen vampire arthur #ikevamp arthur x reader #ikemen vampire arthur x reader #ikevamp x reader #ikemen vampire x reader

[wolfawaycamp]

Overstimulated introverts Ryan and Abi finally getting some peace and quiet during camp. Can be platonic or romantic, no preference- just spreading the Abiryan agenda <3

Ryan’s sitting on the grass in the shade below and to the side of the lodge’s porch stairs when the girls step outside. He’s got a sketchbook propped open on his lap and an earbud stuck in one ear, set on a volume that’s much lower than his default in the name of hearing a camper or any other staff member approaching who doesn’t already know he’s retained custody of his phone, unlike all the rest of the counselors; even so, the bass is successful at drowning out the incessant chatter of a thousand bugs screaming as the sun began to set on a warm July evening.

It’s precisely that low volume that allows him to hear the voices approaching; one high and loud and theatrical in such a way that means it can only possibly belong to Emma. That fact means that it’s also practically a no-brainer that the second voice — similarly high in pitch, but much softer and quieter in volume — is Abi, even if he hadn’t had the familiarity to place it immediately.

Discreetly, he slips the earbud out of place and tucks it out of sight under the collar of his topmost shirt where no one will be able to see it. It’s not that he intends on eavesdropping or anything; moreso just the fact that Emma, out of all the possible options, would certainly not keep her mouth shut if she saw him with contraband devices. And while he’s reasonably certain that his shady retreat is still out of sight, he also knows Emma well enough by now to be familiar with her freakish talent for picking up on things she shouldn’t actually know about… like where Ryan’s gone to be left alone, or who likes who, or where to sit to perfectly avoid getting caught in the crossfire of Dylan and Jacob’s prank battle. (Ryan certainly doesn’t share that innate gift; it’s been three weeks and sometimes he still spots little specks of craft glitter washing out of his hair in the shower.)

Thankfully his assumption of going unseen is correct, for he goes unnoticed for a good ten minutes in the shadows of the stairs while the girls chatter on above him, which he’s perfectly happy to try his absolute best to tune out even without the aid of his music. Even so, he’s aware enough of the conversation going on above that he notices when there’s a sharp decrease in the noise level.

Curious, his head cocks a little to the side as he listens a tiny bit more intently as footsteps cross the porch, before the sound of the lodge doors admitting someone back inside. Then, more closely than before — right at the porch railing just above his spot — there’s a weary sigh.

“Finally,” Abi huffs.

There’s so much unexpected ire in her voice that it punches a loud snort out of him, completely unbidden, and even ducking his head does nothing to prevent being discovered. Abi jolts a little on the porch with the tiniest of gasps, head whipping down at break-neck speed to stare down at Ryan with comically large eyes.

“Oh my god!” she squeaks. “Ryan! I- I didn’t mean that like—” 

The girl stops short, seemingly lost for words, but her eyes are cutting rapidly back and forth between his seated position and the doorway Emma just disappeared through. He doesn’t have to be a mind reader to know what she’s thinking: holy shit holy shit please don’t tell Emma I said that she’ll be so hurt—

Plus or minus the swears, maybe. But then again: who really knew what Abi’s internal voice sounded like?

“It’s fine, Abi,” he tries to reassure, but she’s still too flustered.

“I— I just meant— it’s been so loud all day today and I just wanted some peace and quiet for once and she just wouldn’t stop going on and on about how Jacob did this and Jacob did that—”

“Abi,” he cuts in, earning another wide-eyed stare as she halts abruptly. “Really, it’s fine, I get it. Why do you think I’m sitting down here?”

It’s this point that finally seems to knock her out of the instinctual panic response at being caught expressing a less-than-strictly-positive thought about another person, and a friend and coworker at that. The girl wavers for a few moments, waffling in indecision and chewing her lip anxiously before she finally seems to make a decision, one that sees her descending the stairs until she’s in the open bit of shade just to the side of Ryan.

“Do you… mind if I crash your hiding spot?”

He glances up from his sketchbook. Abi’s cautiously pulling one of her own as well as a set of multicolored pencils out of the satchel on her shoulder, still eyeing him a bit worriedly.

“Go for it,” he offers, nodding to the empty space.

She takes the offer. And finally, finally, after ten peaceful minutes of sketching with no words exchanged, the tension in her body seems to drain away completely. The two of them are sat there for hours, just barely touching shoulder to shoulder in companionable silence outside of the gentle scratching of their pencils and the dull chatter filtering through lodge windows that somebody opened for fresh air, until some point late in the evening when Nick comes looking for the pair of them with the last two brownies he had saved from the ravenous masses in the dining hall.

🐦‍⬛

Hope you like!! Thanks for the request <3

#the quarry #ryan erzahler #abigail blyg #abiryan #precanon #crowe

[seasidefallenangel]

everything i wanted

notes: anne faulkner x afab reader, implied gender dysphoria + self deprecation

“You’ve been out here for a while.” You don’t bother turning around, knowing that Anne can already suspect something is up. The celebration of BAE’s win carries on inside the penthouse as the muffled music echoes outside on the balcony where you two are. You should humor your partner with some sort of response, maybe a joke, but can’t find it within your brain to even digest their words. The acid in your stomach claws its way up your throat as they sit next to you while you’re staring aimlessly into the night sky.

“What’s on your mind, honey?” Their voice asks, quieter than when they first came outside. As much as you love their voice, tonight it reverberates through your skull and becomes dangerously close to giving you a headache. It fills you with guilt - because you’ve been keeping something from the person who you can trust the most, who would understand this situation more than anyone. 

It started when VISTY had shown up after being invited by Anne themselves. The four of them had been relatively vocal about their admiration for BAE, the most prominent being Aoi’s adoration towards Anne. The two of them had spent what seemed like forever talking, with Aoi saying that Anne had inspired them to be their true self. Anne had nearly gotten teary-eyed at being such an inspirational role model for the teen and proceeded to nearly smother Aoi to death in a hug afterward. Something about it made you sick and you had silently dismissed yourself from the situation.

Which led to now.

Perceptive as ever, Anne begins to speak once more, “There’s nothing to be jealous of. Aoi is way too young for me - it was more of a sibling thing.” 

Your head quickly turns to them as you wave your hands to deny the accusation. It wasn’t a romantic thing ; Anne is loyal to a fault and there’s no chance you’d ever suspect them having feelings for Aoi other than purely platonic. 

“God, no. I didn’t even think of that. It’s more cute than anything else. Aoi’s a sweetheart,” you defend and sigh out after. “It’s moreso…” 

You trail off with a sinking feeling in your heart. Half the issue stems from the fact that you don’t even understand why your brain is in such turmoil to begin with. Your nails dig against the fabric of your pants and for a moment you swear you can feel blood bubbling from underneath them. Even with the hoarseness in your voice, you manage to say something else to Anne.

“... How did you know when you weren’t a boy?” You can see the way Anne stiffens from the corner of your eye and there’s a moment where you’re scared that you’ve fucked everything up again. Something in the air feels rancid and you have half a mind to just bolt from the balcony, but your fears are softened ever so slightly when Anne answers your question. 

“I sort of always knew - in my heart at least,” they say solemnly, looking out up at the moon shining. “I liked things I shouldn’t, and disliked the ones I was supposed to love. Every time I saw a girl I assumed I had a crush on her, but I didn’t understand that I wished I looked like her instead.”

Leaning back in their chair, Anne turns to you. “But I didn’t feel like a girl, and I didn’t feel like a boy. I barely even felt human sometimes, and it’s not like my mom helped at all. But I like myself the way I am now, and that’s what matters.” 

They smile softly when you turn your head to meet their gaze, and their hand reaches out to hold your own, squeezing gently. It’s comforting in one way and foreign in another, almost as if you don’t deserve to touch someone like Anne.

“I like you the way you are too,” you murmur with your own smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes, but you hope it reassures Anne regardless. As expected though, it doesn’t, and they shift ever so closer to you in hopes it’ll bring you comfort. “Why did you wanna know? I don’t mind telling you or anything, but it’s a little random for you to bring it up so suddenly,” they speak slowly. It reminds you of someone trying not to scare off an animal and it seems so fitting. You, something primal and feral, a beast chained down in your heart that you’re trying to suppress to the world in hopes it’ll be satiated on its own instead of ripping apart everything you hold dear.

“Every time I look in a mirror,” you start with a shaky voice, “I see a girl who shouldn’t be there. I hate her for being alive, but she’s so deeply tied to me that I could never let her go.” It’s exactly why you took the mirrors out of your room, and why you rush out of the bathroom after a shower ; so you don’t have to see the painfully female body you’re attached to. Anne nods along next to you, hesitant to say their next words, “... You don’t feel like a girl?” It hurts so badly to hear out loud even though you’ve known it forever. You know Anne is the last person on earth to judge you for something like this so you don’t know why it’s so hard to admit to them.

“I guess, yeah, but it doesn’t work that way. I can’t just stop being a girl, you know? It’s wrong,” you begin to explain, but quickly backtrack when you see the hurt flash across Anne’s eyes and their hand slip out of yours. The implication of your words is horrible and causes you to wince at yet another thing you’ve messed up. Your hand reaches for theirs again, hoping they won’t pull away, “Not you! You and Aoi - I’m happy you guys figured it out and that you have someone who sort of understands, you know? I mean me specifically, I can’t be trans.” “Why?” Anne’s jaw steels as they speak and part of you is terrified that they’ll just leave altogether at your messily squished together sentences. You wouldn’t blame them either, given how this is a core part of their trauma and identity.

“I, well,” there’s a heat on your face now - humiliation, most likely - while you stammer out an answer, “I’m just not allowed to be. I don’t deserve to be.” Confusion overtakes their face and you try to save face once more, “Just like, you’ve been through a lot to figure that out you know? And sometimes I do like a few girly things so maybe it’s just me and I shouldn’t be able to say I’m non-binary if I’m okay with that cause it’s insulting. I’m probably overreacting anyway cause I’m very obviously a girl so -” You’re cut off by Anne’s thumb wiping a tear that’s begun to slide down your cheek, one you didn’t even register being there at all. Their face looks pained, and you’d do anything in the world to never have to see that expression again. All you can offer is a whisper of, “Sorry,” and let the shame course through your body. 

Shaking their head, Anne pulls you into a hug, letting you rest your head on their shoulder while your tears drip onto their skin. You feel pathetic crying over something like this, because was it even that big of a deal? 

“Don’t be sorry, dear,” they hum into your ear, holding you tighter when you choke back a sob, “You’re allowed to feel how you want, and be what you want. There’s no right or wrong when it comes to this sort of thing. You ‘deserve’ what makes you happy. Why would you ever think otherwise?” 

But you don’t have an answer for them. You can’t explain the inherent guilt you have for simply being alive and the need to justify your existence to someone, to anyone who will listen. 

Even so, Anne provides a sense of stability even when it’s hard to grasp your own sense of self. You could know tomorrow, or you could never figure it out, and they would still be there just as they are now to walk by your side - and as long as you had them, surely the rest would come easy.

very personal piece about my own issues with struggling with my gender for nearly 9 years, and the things i can't explain about it. thank you for reading.

#anne faulkner x reader #paralive x reader #paralive scenarios #paradox live x reader #paralive imagines

[ryukyuin]

Heyy😭 Idk if this is dumb but idk if you do fanfics! If you do can you do Yandere shaiapouf x reader headcanons! I am a fem but the reader can ofc be gender neutral:3

I DO HELLOOO !! Yandere Shaiapouf is a very silly concept to be because just... ??? Is it just me or is he really barely toeing the line. For the other ants it seemed moreso "devotion" but just. Pouf. POUF... sighhs.

assume pre-established relationship btw this man has to go through all six stages of grief before he accepts he loves a STINKY HUYMAN... this just isn't the place to write allat

WARNINGS: Mentions of blood, "yandere" behaviors/tendencies, unhealthy mindsets, dead animals (non-graphic), Shaiapouf idolizing violence/depictions of him wanting to fucking maul people GFHDSAH

HIS LOVE LANGUAGE IS ACTS OF SERVICE!! despite all the flowery bullshit he might say later on n the relationship, you'll always know how he's really feeling by his body language and what he goes through with.

there's so little shaiapouf content that its soooo fun to just make up stuff for him. little habits and ticks and sounds he makes as he goes about his day....

have you heard abt the orange cracker butterfly? you will now (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=01hjJ4EhWtI)

that shit sounds like a TASER and they make that noise to tell other male butterflies to fuck off from their territory.

.........yes shaiapouf makes irritated taser sounds in public. yes you've almost gotten kicked out of places because workers think you're threatening patrons with a taser.

peppering his face in kisses until he calms down....... he starts warbling and chittering and his pupils dilate and he melts. three bajillion s/o points if you cusp his face in your hands and just rest your forehead against his afterward.

i think he'd give you dead animals as gifts, especially if you were too skinny for his liking. youre his monarch, his ruler, his sovereign, of course he'd find the best of the best for you! it's okay if you don't know how to skin them, he can take care of the gore himself, blood shouldn't grace your hands!

the level of dejected he looks when you turn him down is unfair in every sense of the word. you could have kicked a box of puppies and he would have looked less hurt. he probably would have white-knighted for you and said the puppies deserved it, actually

if blood DID grace your hands however,,,, god,,,,,,,,

him grabbing your arm, pressing kisses to the inside of your bloody wrist before lapping up every trace of red marring your skin......

DO NOT ASK ME ABT HOW HE'D BE DURING YOUR CYCLE!!!!! THE WORLD ISN'T READY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! /silly /nsrs

THIGHS THIGHS THIGHS THIGHHSS MMMMMFF.... i think its less about him being a thighs man and moreso that he'd enjoy just resting his head there. it doesn't matter how much shorter you are than him, he'd still contrort himself just to rest his head there as your hand cards through his hair......

okay time for the actual yandere headcanons, you didn't think he could just be cute and kissable and slutty, did you 🤨🤨🤨🤨

he REALLY likes pressing himself as close as possible to you, to watch the way you squirm in the iron shackle of his grip before he lets you go

because don't get it wrong-- he LET you go. shaiapouf finds it entrancing sometimes, the way he can feel your bones grinding together in your hand when he squeezes it too tightly, letting go the moment you yelp and pressing kisses to your knuckles until you complain at him for being the gooiest sap on the planet

micro-manages. god he micro-manages. he'll do the dishes, clean entire rooms, get rid of the old food in the fridge that he knows you're never going to eat despite saying you'd get around to it....

it feels... gross sometimes? you'll be laying in bed, sitting on the couch, at the kitchen counter, and he's just..... been working.

he looks so sad if you try and stop him though. he just wants to help, you know?

it doesn't matter if he's throwing away the clothes that you hide away your body with, stained and threadbare. they're your comfort clothes? that's okay, he'll get you better ones-- or even better, maybe you'd like to try on his own? he's sure you'd look adorable in them <33

it doesn't matter if he's slowly working out your chipped and dented dishes for fine china, delicate crystalware that clinked softly whenever he plated a meal for you. polished silver gleamed from your cutlery drawer, and you were a little scared that your knives would give you a thousand tiny cuts if you even breathed in their direction.

but thats okay, isn't it? he just wants the finer things in life for you... you do like his gifts, right? he worked so hard to get them!

you ask and you ask and you ask, and he never... quite tells you where he goes when he leaves, humming about it being 'confidential' and not to worry your pretty head about it before nuzzling against your temple .

he's not... trying to get rid of your comfort items, to warp your safe spaces. but if you come running into his arms, cuddle against his chest a little more often, well.

that's perfectly fine with him <333

just... don't worry about the speckles of blood on his clothes, the red marring his lips, pretty please? he'll lick the gore from his fangs, peel his clothes from his skin and toss them into the laundry basket before worshipping your body.

don't think about anything else. just him.

loves loves loveessss nipping at your skin...... if you're a chubbier s/o then i'm sure he'll ADORE you.

don't say anthing self-deprecating about your body around him. a gleam will enter his eyes, something dark and menacing before he's laving his tongue across your skin, leaving you squirming and breathy...........

he just really really likes how you look when your skin is littered with bruises and hickeys!!!! when his teeth sink in a little too deep, he'll whisper apologies into your skin, lapping at each droplet and pressing open-mouthed kisses until you're a giggling mess

ermmm anyways let me stop hornyposting this is the yandere part he gets SO SUPER IRRITATED WHEN YOU DO SOMETHING THAT DOESN'T MEET HIS IMAGE OF YOU!!

he SAYS he loves you but...... he can't understand you sometimes, why you'd shiver and start tearing up when he entertains the idea of viserally ripping someone to shreds whom he thought had personally wronged you a few minutes prior

in his mind you're his liege, the thing he worships and protects and lavishes n anything he can offer, he simply can't comprehend the way you start to shy away from him in fear when he entertains any of these ideas too long.

oh, he'll excuse it as instincts, his culture even. he's more than aware of how humans function, their benign society and rules that they keep in place and enforce, but oh.... he's so sorry for asking to rip off the arm of the mailman just because his fingers brushed against yours as he passed a letter to you, to sew his mouth shut with silk thread just because he complimented your appearance.

it was commonplace in his culture, you must understand-- to make moves towards what was very clearly someone else's partner simply wasn't to be tolerated.

ohh, how he wanted to pinch your cheeks and snatch you up from the way your face adorably scrunched up, right before you asked him how the grocer asking credit or debit was making a move.

guyyyysssss he's so sillyyyyyy please just stay with him and vcudlde with hijm in bed and dont think about anyone else ever

#spitballing.doc #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere hxh #yandere shaiapouf #shaiapouf #this is so fucking late #and i could have gone on longer BUT i need to keep writing meow meow meow!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #ermmmm... maybe ooc ngl i dont REALLY LIKE IT #but umm. yeah i need to literally do anything THIS IS SUPPOSED TO BE A WRITING BLOG!!!!!!!!!!! #UMMM!!!! IF SOMEOMNE ASKS FOR A PART TWO I WILL LIKE..... #go more in-depth abt nen manipulation and silly isolation stuf :))))

[queermania]

Same anon, I also wanted to add that bodily autonomy IS inherently a Sam issue because there are so many instances in the text that has to do with something out of Sam's control. Being Lucifer's true vessel (which yes, Dean was Michael's and he didn't have control over that either, but that's not portrayed as much in the text because they WANTED the viewers to see Sam's struggle with his "destiny" because Lucifer is Lucifer, but it would have been nice to see Dean being Michael's vessel affect him more.) The demon blood was a violation, obviously. John violated both of his children's autonomy by trying to turn them into mindless soldiers. That's why it showed Sam get away, because it was showing a small portion of his life when he gained that autonomy back, only for Azazel and Lucifer to control his life again by killing Jess so that they could manipulate him into leaving the life he made for himself free of control. (Not to mention they controlled more than just Jessica's death. His best friend was a demon, his prom date was a demon, his teacher was a demon, etc etc. His whole life was meticulously planned out in a way that Dean's wasn't.) Then the Special Children stuff, then Ruby comes along, and as I explained before, violates his autonomy. That's why FINALLY in the season 5 finale, which as a reminder was supposed to be the end of the show, it portrayed him getting his autonomy back by taking control of his body!! It doesn't get any clearer than that!! His first words of the series are "Do I have to?" and his last are "You're going to have to make me!" This is his whole story arc of the first 5 seasons, regaining his autonomy and it was done so well. But then the next seasons go back to violating them again when he comes back soulless and his soulless self does a bunch of things to violate it, like sleeping with people and doing certain things Sam would never do. Then the whole Gadreel thing. (Which I wasn't as mad that Dean tricked Sam into bringing him back to life, but moreso that he manipulated him for months and Sam had a whole ANGEL living inside of him and Sam was losing time. THAT is violating his bodily autonomy on multiple levels.) Sure there are instances where other characters get their autonomy violated but none more than Sam's whose entire arc of the first 5 seasons involved it.

first of all, the show didn't only last for five seasons. it lasted for fifteen and everything that happened after season five is still canon. and my entire point was that just because the show sometimes frames it like sam has his autonomy violated more often, doesn't mean it actually happens that way.

being lucifer's true vessel is not a violation of sam's autonomy anymore than any other person being a potential vessel for an angel is. but even if you take that stance, you've already highlighted exactly why that's not specific to sam anyway. dean is also a true vessel, ergo...

i've already agreed the demon blood when he was a baby was a violation of his autonomy.

but again with john.. you've explicitly brought up an example of something that applies to both sam and dean. so once again, not specific to sam.

and if getting away was a restoration of his autonomy and dean didn't get away then i guess we can assume dean was having his autonomy violated while sam wasn't. soooooo... now it's specific to dean and not sam.

demons possessing other people is not a violation of sam's autonomy wtf. it's a violation of those people's autonomy. it's a fucked up thing that happened to sam, yeah, but it has nothing to do with his autonomy.

sam's last line of the series was "dean" because, again, the show went beyond the first five seasons and when i'm talking about the show, i'm talking about the entire thing.

sam's actions when he was soulless are not him violating his own autonomy??? literally WHAT?? but even if you want to use that completely unhinged logic, then that means at the very least that jack's actions when he was soulless were a violation of his autonomy, which again means it's not specific to sam.

i'm not arguing that gadreel possessing sam was a violation of his autonomy.

but again... just because the show made it a recurring theme doesn't mean it actually happened to sam with any more frequency than it did to dean (or cas).

#replies #anonymous #sw #wank for ts

[dokoni-mo]

Mortal Shenanigans || Khonshu x GN! Reader

summary: you have a night out.

SFW // fluff

word count: 5008

warnings: fluff, cursing, mentions of canon-typical violence, post-canon, mentions of marc, steven and jake (they do not make an appearance), khonshu struggles with human emotion sometimes and gets frustrated a bit easily but we love him for it, established relationship, khonshu also has a really big ego but thats just common knowledge, non-violent usage of knives

disclaimer: i do not have DID myself, so if i wrote anything incorrectly as it pertains to the mentions of marc, steven and jake I apologize, i just tried to stay as close to canon as possible

a/n: wow its been FOREVER since ive written for a different fandom,,, look look ik what yall are thinking: really? the bird man?? well YES the bird man if i can simp for the worst evil dilf in the galaxy i can simp for the bird man too (he's also my comfort character and ive been struggling with some anxiety/more insomnia recently so ffkadfjkdlf i just need this one okay??),, anyways taglist open!! enjoy!!

~~~

Every time you looked at Khonshu, you could only wonder one thing. Why didn't he give himself any hair?

You had been with the god for years now. Long before either Marc, Steven, or Jake was his avatar. You knew him. You knew that he was full of pride. The god took great pride in the "vengeance" he sought on those who have done wrong. He took pride in his Moon Knight; even if he had to jump through some hoops to get one. Khonshu almost never admitted he was wrong. And even more rarely, he would apologize for being wrong. You had to give him the silent treatment for days for him to do that.

Which is why his lack of hair puzzled you greatly.

Although he wasn't very forward about it, you knew Khonshu also took great pride in his appearance. Hell, it ate him up for weeks when Ammit had said that time had not been kind to him. He had tailored his physical form to perfectly fit the description of God of the Moon. He liked to be handsome, in his own weird, oddly specific way. You loved him for it, along with a great deal of many other reasons, but why. Why didn't he include hair?

All the other Gods you had met had hair. Ammit did. Taweret did. So why not him? If he did it right, it might suit him. Something long, with lots of braids and charms. But also kept tidy, to suit how particular he was about things.

You knew he could do it. Have hair, that is. With one wave of a linen-wrapped hand, he could have all the hair in the world if he wanted to. It would look nice. So why not?

These questions were asked over and over inside of your mind that night. It was Sunday, which meant Khonshu relieved Jake of any moon-knighting so that he could spend time with you. While the god was passionate about protecting the travelers of the night, and carrying out his own form of justice, he was moreso passionate about you. He missed you deeply during the leading days to Sunday. He knew of your longing for him as well. So, he took Sundays very seriously.

You were lain on the couch of your flat, your legs resting in the lap of the hawk-headed deity. Khonshu's staff was leaned against the wall next to him, one hand on the side of your thigh whilst the other idly drew patterns into your shin. His skull was pointed at your television, which was displaying some over-the-top reality series you had found on Netflix not long ago. Khonshu grumbled over and over again how such "trash entertainment" was beneath both you and him, but you saw how interested he was in it. You knew it was just more than curiosity when he asked if a new episode had dropped. How he seemed disappointed when you scrolled past it when looking for better things.

Typical Khonshu.

But because his attention was somewhere else, the deity didn't notice how you had been staring at him for the past twenty minutes. You had been taking in every single one of his features, trying your best to picture in your minds eye just what kind of hairstyle would suit him. Even after days of scrolling on Pinterest, you had failed time and time again to find the perfect look for him. It was up to you now to create it. Yet still, you wondered...

"Khon?" you squeaked out, having to clear your throat after not talking for so long.

Not looking away from the TV screen, your bird-headed lover answered you, "Yes, my moonstone?"

"Why don't you have any hair?"

Your question certainly got the god's attention now. Out of all the things he had expected you to say, you could tell that certainly wasn't one of them. It surprised the bird-man enough to rip his gaze away from the TV, and make him stop rubbing those small, loving circles into your leg as he looked down at your inquisitive face.

"Hair?" he asked.

"Yeah, hair." you responded, "All the other gods seemed to have it. Why don't you? And those little string things back there don't count."

It took him a second to answer you, thinking of what to say, "I... have never seen a purpose to have it, I suppose."

You laughed, "You don't need a reason to have hair. You can have it just to look nice."

"Look nice?"

"Yeah, like how some people use it to express themselves. Remember the other day? When we saw that person with the yellow mohawk? That was them expressing themselves."

"Are you suggesting I get a yellow mohawk?"

You laughed again, "No, no! I'm just saying it might look good on you."

The god thought to himself for a moment again, letting out a hmm as you saw the gears beginning to turn inside of his skull.

"I don't think I agree with you, little one." He said.

"Whaaaat?" you groaned, sitting yourself up to get a better look at your lover next to you, your legs still in his lap, "Why not?"

Khonshu leaned the end his beak down to tap against your cheek at your protests, his own way of kissing you to wash away your exasperation, "I am the God of the Night Sky, my little mortal. I have put great effort in to how I look now. Hair would not suit me in the slightest, nor would serve any purpose. Your suggestion is adorable, however, my star."

You half-smiled and rolled your eyes at his comments, not in the mood to give up so quickly.

"Okay but have you even tried having hair before?" you asked, "You can't say it won't suit you until you've tried it."

"I don't need to try it. I just know it wouldn't."

"Well can I see? To make sure? Just like, just something you think would look good."

"It doesn't work like that, little one."

Feeling defeated, you let out a groan as you leaned back against the chair, lying down again as you stretched your hands out behind you. Reaching down to your face, Khonshu used his thin, linen-wrapped fingers to brush the hair away from your eyes, trailing them down to cup your face; his palm taking up nearly the entire expanse of the side of your head. Feeling his comforting touch, you leaned your cheek against it as you looked into the sockets of his skull.

"Your suggestions are always welcome with me, my sweet, but this is one that I cannot accept. I do hope you understand." The deity said to you, rubbing his long thumb lovingly against your smaller cheek.

"I just don't understand why you won't even try." you said, "It sounds like you're just being stubborn again, bird-brain."

"I am not stubborn. I just know what is best."

This warranted another laugh out of you, along with a swift kiss pressed against the hawk-headed god's palm. This was definitely typical Khonshu. You half-expected your schemed conversation to go in such a way, so you found it hard to be angry at the god's lack of adventure. He was never really one to try new things much anyway. Not unless he was given a push. You knew this. After years of being by Khonshu's side, you knew everything about how he operated. Which is why you felt comfortable shifting your scheme from plan A to plan B.

Pressing one more kiss into your lover's palm, you sat up and pivoted on your butt so that your legs were out of the hawk-headed god's lap. Your feet now firmly on the floor, you paused the show on the TV as you pushed yourself up from off of the couch. You could feel Khonshu's gaze on you as you bustled your way over to the doorway of your flat. Taking it off of the hooks, you shrugged on the old coat that Marc had left behind from his last visit onto your shoulders. Bending down, you begun to slip into your shoes as the god on the couch decided to chime in.

"What are you doing, little one?" He asked you, skull tilted slightly to the side.

"Going out." you said, a small smirk on your features.

"Out?" he interrogated, "For what purpose?"

After slipping on both shoes, you stood up straight again as you grabbed your keys off of the hook.

"Well," you said, "I'm not giving up on my suggestion yet. And if you're not willing to show me some hair up on that thick skull of yours, then i'm going out to get the next best thing."

Khonshu was standing now, his staff placed firmly in his hand as he looked to you.

"(Y/N), this is absurd."

You giggled, "No Khon, what's absurd is that I'm about to make myself a traveler of the night, and you're not gonna be there to protect me."

~~~

In order to avoid weird stares from the other people that walked the streets of London, Khonshu and you had agreed long ago to not hold hands in public. No one out there other than you could see him, but they could see you clear as day. It would draw a lot of unnecessary attention to you if you were constantly seen holding hands with nothing. So, for subtlety, and to allow at least some PDA between the two of you, you and Khonshu agreed to hold pinkies instead. Something subtle, but still loving and intimate all the same. It was one of the few things you didn't have to pester the deity so much about until he finally agreed. Silly old bird.

The streets of London at night were almost -- if not just as -- lively as they were in the daytime. In the light of the full moon above, along with accompanying streetlights, you saw how all the people around you seemed to be enjoying themselves as you walked along the sidewalk, pinky held firmly in Khonshu's. There were many younger people out that hour of the night, walking along and laughing with one another like they were the only people in the world. When a group would pass by you, you would see how they payed no mind the tall bird god next to you, phasing through him like it was nothing. Granted, you were the only one that could see him, but it was still amusing nonetheless. Sometimes, the person would turn around briefly to see where the sudden change of temperature in the air came from. Them being unable to see Khonshu, they would just stare by your side with a furrowed brow, making you giggle softly to yourself every time it happened.

Usually, Khonshu would chuckle along with you. However, that evening, he didn't do so. Not even once. Staff held firmly in the hand that wasn't busy with yours, he stared straight ahead without a word as he trudged alongside you. He was grumpy about your little plan. He was throwing another one of his tantrums. You would never call it a tantrum to his face, though. You weren't that mean.

At least he wasn't teleporting around this time, and still wanted to hold your pinky. A change from the other tantrums he threw.

When the fifth drunk person of the night phased through him, he had let out a grumble of disapproval. You saw how he gripped onto his long, tall staff even firmer, and shot a warm smile up at the deity.

"Don't be so grumpy." you said to him, not bothering to keep your voice low so you don't get stares (since most people seemed to be minding their own business, at least for now), "A night out is a nice change of pace anyway. As much as I love and appreciate you setting aside a day for us, you can't keep me cooped up in my flat forever, Khon. We should get out and do more. And that doesn't include riding around with Jake."

The tall bird next to you let out another disapproving rumble, "I prefer to spend Sundays inside with you, (Y/N). I know you are aware of this."

"I am aware of that. But come on, it'll be fun! Just give it a shot. One night out isn't gonna kill you."

"We seem to have differing tastes in fun, little bug."

"Ohhh, I don't think so. Remember all that time we spent together? In Cairo? Before you found Marc in the desert?" you asked teasingly, bumping up against his arm to emphasize your point.

Khonshu let out another hum at this as he recalled all of those old, fond memories, though more pleased-sounding than the last as he leaned down to press the tip of his beak against the side of your cheek, "How could I ever forget?"

You giggled, "Exactly. And that was pretty fun, huh? So trust me when I say this will be fun too."

The god next to you looked down at you without a word. You could practically feel the gears turning in his skull, trying over and over again to come up with some sort of snobbish remark to emphasize his distaste for your little scheme. Try as he might, however, Khonshu could come up with nothing. For months now, you and him had spend Sundays indoors. As much as he did love just having you near him, holding you on the couch as some dumb form of entertainment played out before him, he did have to admit. He was getting a little bored with it. He could tell that you were bored of it too. Even if you had never complained about it before, he could see it in those eyes of yours. It made him feel a little bad. And a walk under his moon did always liven his spirits. He loved seeing the moonlight on your skin, anyhow.

So perhaps you were right about this. Even though going to such lengths to see him with hair was still absurd to him (although he realized that this was probably just some sort of excuse for you to get him and yourself out of the flat), Khonshu found himself not being able to hate the idea of a night out with you. His sweet little mortal. His one true love.

Returning his gaze to the road ahead of the pair of you, Khonshu straightened his posture as he held your pinky tighter, angling his beak to point more upright and poised.

"Very well. But only for tonight, little one." he said.

You let out a laugh as you returned your gaze to the sidewalk, "Fair enough."

Typical Khonshu.

~~~

The shop you had stopped at was one of the ones you used to frequent in your youth. It was a typical children's store; full of games, toys, and sweets to make any child drag their guardian by the wrist in through the doors, whining and begging all the while. It was a quaint little thing, even just from the view from the windows outside. Perfect for any child.

Which is why Khonshu was terribly confused when you had dragged him all the way there. He wasn't a child. He was a god. Had you forgotten?

Because the deity was too big to fit inside without being prone to accidentally knocking something over (but mostly because he claimed he didn't want to deal with such "foolishness"), he resided himself to staying outside. He watched you through the windows of the store, holding on to his staff firmly with hunched, irritated shoulders. You were sure taking your sweet time in there. He knew that you knew exactly what you were doing; making the god of the night sky wait out in the cold, damp streets of London as you perused through the aisles of the small store.

"Just wait out here," you had said to him, "I'll be back in a second."

That was twenty minutes ago now. Khonshu liked to consider himself a patient god. Unlike some of his brothers and sisters, as well as other members of the ennead, he had much more to give when it came to mortal behavior. It was a trait acquired over time, through countless years of worship and praise directed towards him and his moon and stars, as well as all the knights he had taken as his own. Hell, he figured that his patience had to have grown ten-fold over the years, since he had put up with that worm Steven Grant so long without killing him. And when it came to you, he had even more of a fuse to give.

However, Khonshu had never been one to simply sit around in the face of such shenanigans. This whole idea was ludicrous to him. He didn't even want hair.

The god grumbled to himself as the travelers of the night passed by him, laughing and shooting-the-shit amongst themselves without a care in the world.

You were lucky he loved you. Otherwise you would've been put on the short-list to feel his wrath.

After twenty-five minutes had passed, Khonshu had begun to consider going inside the store to fetch you. He knew you hated to be rushed, but right then, he probably hated waiting even more. A reprimand from you would be bliss compared to agonizingly waiting for your return. Khonshu was seriously considering it, weighing his options on an imaginary scale.

As if it was on cue, you had finally exited the shop. The god first noticed the comically large amount of bags that you had hugged close to your chest, held snug inside of the confine your arms. You had situated them all in such a way that they were nestled more-or-less in the crooks of your elbows, so that your hands were free. In your left hand, however, you held a sheer, small white paper bag. The bag was full of what appeared to be some sort of small pastry, and you used your right had to break off pieces of it to fit into your mouth. With a small smile on your face as you chewed, you crossed the street over to the disgruntled bird-man, noticing how his linen-wrapped shoulders were hunched as you found your place in front of him.

"What on earth took you so long, little bug?" The bird-man questioned, softly gesturing to your person with his staff, "And what are all those?"

You breathed out a giggle in response, finishing the bite you had took before you spoke.

"I saw a few cute things that I wanted." You said.

"A few?" Khonshu questioned.

"Yeah a few, things there are cheap! I know the owner so I get a good discount. Don't worry, I got your present too, Khon."

You reached in the small white bag and broke off another piece of the pastry, tilting its opening up at the god of the moon.

"Croissant?" you asked.

Even though Khonshu didn't have eyes, you could tell in his unamused silence that he had looked to you, then the pastry, then back to you again.

"No, thank you." he said.

Letting out another amused giggle, you briefly stood on your tip-toes and pressed a soft kiss to the tip of the god's beak, seeing how he relaxed just a tad at your display of affection.

"Come on, let's find a place for you to open your gift." you said to him, hugging the bags closer to your chest as you took another bite of your snack. Resuming your trudge down the sidewalk, Khonshu lingered behind for a brief moment, staring at the back of your head in silence. Khonshu was never one to be speechless. Everyone that had ever come across him knew this. The god of the night sky was a being of many, seemingly endless words.

But you never failed to leave him scrambling for what to say.

Sighing to himself, Khonshu repositioned his grip on his staff as he followed behind you, his long strides making him quick to meet his place by your side again. He glanced down to your height, watching as you absent-mindedly rummaged through your bag for any remaining bits of the pastry. As if you didn't have a care in the world. Nor as if you were phased in the slightest to have a literal god by your side.

Khonshu reached his hand down to you, giving you a gentle, loving caress to the small of your back.

You were lucky he loved you. But he felt equally as lucky to be loved by you.

~~~

The place you had picked out to settle down and open Khonshu's present was a spot you and Marc liked to visit when he first came to London. When Khonshu wasn't busy making him moon-knight, and he would spare himself a brief moment of relaxation, Marc liked to spend it someplace calm. Somewhere out in nature, where he could just get lost in the scenery around him and forget about his troubles, and ignore the constant squawking of the god over his shoulder. You remembered how many petty arguments you had to break up between the two of them. How many times you had to act as the middle-man when they refused to speak to one another.

They were fond memories of yours, and dumb as they were. Marc, Steven and Jake were your favorite moon knights so far, after all. They were your friends.

The dock was a place that was hard to find and hard to get to, making it the perfect spot for if you wanted to be alone. Having memorized everything about the path down there, it wasn't hard for you to make the journey with so many bags in your grasp. And, with the added help of your bird-ish lover balancing you whenever you needed, the trudge down was a piece of cake. Sure enough, the old, worn-down dock was empty, and the gentle sound of the waves of the harbor lapping against the wood was the only sound hung in the hair. The water was a dark, rich black, with the reflection of the large, shining full moon overhead glistening across its surface. This gave you just enough light to see what you were doing as you made your way to the edge of the dock, sitting down with your legs dangling a few feet above the water's surface.

Your lover sat next to you, setting is staff down behind him so that he could have his full attention on you and your present. Your bags were scattered all around your personal space now, but just far enough away so that they wouldn't interfere. All except one, of course, which held the present you had in store for the god.

"Trust me, Khon," you said, sliding the bag off of your lap and into his, "once you see this, you're gonna wish you had thought of having hair sooner."

The bird gave you a look before lowering his hands down to the bag, gentle and unsure with his movements. You could feel the skepticism pouring off of him, but you just simply looked at him with a smile as he opened the gift.

After some fiddling with the paper of the bag, Khonshu was able to free his gift from its confines. The plastic crinkling around his fingers, the god lifted up a small, square plastic bag. Inside of the bag there seemed to be some sort of dead animal. It was some kind of strange looking brown, stringy, somewhat curly pile of hair, totally synthetic in the way it shone in the light of Khonshu's moon. Upon further inspection, however, Khonshu realized that it wasn't a dead animal.

It was a wig.

The package held in his grasp, Khonshu turned his beak to look down at you again, only to be greeted with your giddy smile back up at him.

"Soooo?" you questioned, "What do you think?"

It took the deity a moment to respond to you.

"My stardust," he said, "it's... I am amused at the lengths you will take to get your way, darling."

You rolled your eyes with a playful scoff, "Khonshu, please! I can tell you don't like it!"

"I am most grateful for any offerings you wish to give me, moonstone. However, this one just seems quite... synthetic."

"Yeah, well duhhh," you said in response, gently taking the package out of the god's hands, "I can't really afford a real wig. Those things can be, like, hundreds of dollars."

Khonshu seemed a bit taken aback by that, "Hundreds?"

"Yeah, hundreds." you said in response, opening up the plastic as it crinkled and crunched in your hands, "I love you, Khon, but I'm not made of money."

The god let out a low hum, "If it is wealth you desire, my sweet, then I shall have Jake obtain it for you. You need only ask, and anything you desire shall be yours."

You giggled at your lover's sentiments, taking the cheap, synthetic wig out of the package and brushing it through with your fingers, "Come on, you know I'm not in to all that. I like just being normal. With my dingy flat and stubborn, bird-brained, god of the moon partner."

Once you felt like you had sufficiently combed through the wig, you lifted it up in front of you, using one of your hands as a make-shift stand so that you could see what it fully looked like. The thing was obviously fake material, with many frayed, jarring locks of hair jutting out in every which way. The item just barely resembled that of a medium-length, layered wolf cut, along with what seemed to be a few locks that were trying to be bangs. Even in the dim light of the moon above, you could tell that even though the wig was fresh out of the package, it had seen better days.

"Look, Khon!" you said, using your other hand in vain attempt to try and smooth some of the hair down, "These hairstyles are super trendy right now. You'll be, like, with the times and all that. Jake is gonna be floored when he sees you."

The god let out another hum, "I agree with you, little one. But I think we disagree on just why he will be floored."

You rolled your eyes playfully at Khonshu's remark, "I don't think it's gonna fit your head, though. Your skull is too fat. Hold on."

Before Khonshu could could protest at the characterization of his skull, he watched as you set the wig down on your lap, keeping it steady as your hands groped around the pockets of the jacket you wore. After checking almost all of the pockets, you let out a quiet aha as you found what you were looking for. Fumbling with the fabric, you pulled out a small, metallic sort of thing. Pushing the button on the side, it was revealed to be one of Marc's emergency knives he had tucked away in his coat for safe keeping. Keeping your hands steady, you angled the knife down at the wig in your lap. Carefully, such that you wouldn't lose your grip and accidentally cut yourself, you begun to cut away at some of the inside bits of the wig. Your jaw was clenched in concentration as Khonshu watched.

"What are you doing now?" he asked, the smallest hint of loving exhaustion in his low, rumbling voice.

"I'm trynna make this bigger," you said, "So that it'll fit your fat head."

The moon god's back stiffened at your words, long, proud beak dipping ever so slightly to one side.

"I do not have a fat head!" he exclaimed, his temper poking through making you giggle again.

"Well, maybe not to you," you said, "But compared to the size of a normal human's head, it's quite fat. Now be quiet so I can focus."

Without another word, Khonshu scoffed and looked away from you out to the moon's reflection on the water's surface, grumbling to himself some nonsense you couldn't understand. Likely in Egyptian. He often did that when he knew you were right, but didn't want to admit it out loud. The bird was just lucky none of his brothers and sisters were around to hear him be reprimanded by a mere mortal. Khonshu loved you greatly, he really did. You were one of the few he had ever been willing to put up with for such a long time.

But he was still a god. He often wondered if you forgot that part.

But he loved you enough to overlook it.

After a little longer of you cutting up the wig to make it fit, you had put down Marc's knife to admire your work. You had done a fairly good job; the wig was now wide enough to where it seemed like it would fit on Khonshu's fat head. The god would never say it out loud in order to preserve his pride, but he thought you did a good job as well. He guessed that you were more serious about this whole ordeal than he had originally thought you had been.

"Okay!" you said, "It's done! Are you ready to try it on?"

The moon deity let another disapproving rumble out from inside his chest, "Do I have to?"

"Yes." you responded matter-of-factly, pushing yourself up onto your feet.

Even whilst sitting down, Khonshu was still a fair amount taller than you were. You had to stand on your tip-toes in order to securely reach the top of his skull. Draping the synthetic mess of hair upon his head, he tried to keep very still so that it wouldn't fall off, and you would have to repeat the process all over (as tempting as discarding the infernal garment into the water below was to him). Once it was properly balanced up there, you used for fingers to try and style it as best you could. You knew he would like it more if it were at least passably good-looking.

Combing the plastic strands with your fingers one last time, you lowered yourself back flat on your feet and took a few steps away, trying to get a good look at your lover with his new head of hair. As you backed away, the god lifted up his beak again to stare ahead at you without a word.

Admittedly, you thought the color you chose did suit him. But, in every other way, it was ridiculous.

You could only go a few seconds without busting out in an amused, hearty laugh.

"Oh my god!" you said in between your giggles, "You look like you ripped the hair right off of some pop-star's head!"

Khonshu grumbled to himself again, "I knew this was a mistake."

Wiping away a few laughing-induced tears from the corners of your eyes, you shook your head, "No, no! It's not... terrible looking! It's just really jarring. I'm used to you being bald."

"There is no need to lie, moonstone."

"I'm not lying! I think it would look good if we got you a real wig!"

Reaching in your back pocket, you pulled out your phone and held it up to the god, using its black reflection as a make-shift mirror for him.

"See?" You asked, "It's not the worst thing in the world. Wish I could take a picture of you, though. To show Jake."

Peering down at his reflection in the tiny screen of your phone, Khonshu remained silent as he studied his reflection. You were right in the sense that him having any sort of hair was, in fact, jarring. His appearance hadn't changed in many hundreds of years, so it was odd to see him with a full head of scraggly, unkempt hair. Looking at himself longer, he decided that he still did not agree with you. Trying to picture himself with a better wig, he found that he didn't like the improvement much more either. He was fine with how he looked. As long as you and him thought he was handsome, he didn't feel any need to change. Hair was more of his sibling's thing, anyway.

"It is not totally dreadful, little one," he said to you, looking back to your face, "but I still do not care for it."

You let out a half-defeated sigh as you slipped your phone back into your pocket, a smile still lingering on your features, "Well, it was still worth a shot. I thought it wasn't that bad. Here, come on. I'll help you take it off."

Eager to rid himself of the itchy synthetic thing on his head, Khonshu leaned himself downwards. Still having to stand on your tip-toes, you slid the wig off of the god's skull, moving to discard of it after it had come loose. Khonshu shook himself off just a tad to get rid of any lingering scratchy-ness left behind by the wig as you set it inside of one of your bags, stretching out his shoulders after having to remain still for so long.

Once you were finished, you took a few steps back over to the god, leaning up to press a quick, warm kiss just underneath his eye socket onto his bony cheek.

"Hey," you said as you took a seat next to him, slipping your smaller hand into his, "Thank you. For at least giving it a shot."

The moon deity peered down at your smaller form, letting out another, but more content, rumble escape his chest.

"As I recall, it was you who so adamantly wanted to go out on this little venture." He said, "And it is my duty to watch over the travelers of the night."

You let out a soft laugh, "I know, but still. You couldn't said no. Been mean about it."

Khonshu unfurled his hand from yours, lifting it up to gently wrap around your plush, warm cheek with his linen-wrapped fingers.

"Never, my stardust. Never to you."

Your cheeks heating up at his touch, you smiled up at the god, nuzzling your cheek into his large palm.

"Does this mean we get to go out more often?" you asked.

Khonshu let out a hum as he leaned his beak down to you, pressing the tip against your cheek as his hand fell away from it, "Don't be overzealous, little scarab."

"Oh come on! You had fun too!"

The moon god tapped his beak against your cheek once more in response, reaching behind him to wield is staff once again. Once it was secure in his grasp, he rose up from his seated position to a stand. Bending over slightly, he offered you his hand for you to mimic his movements.

"Come, little one." He said, "The night grows old, and my moon shall soon disappear. Let us get you home. You need your rest after such an eventful excursion."

Groaning out a long fiiiineeee, you gathered up your bags in your arms again, hugging them tight to your chest. Once you felt like they were secure in your grasp, you folded your hand inside of Khonshu's, having him help you to your feet. When you were steady, the god laced his long, skinny pinky finger alongside yours, pulling your smaller body closer to his as you begun the trudge back to your flat.

"Well I had fun," you said, "And I know you did too. You can't hide it from me."

The moon god softly chuckled, "I love you, foolish mortal."

You shot him up a smile, "I love you too, bird-brain. Even though you're bald."

~~~

#moon knight x you #moon knight x y/n #moon knight x reader #khonshu x y/n #khonshu x reader #khonshu x you #marvel x you #marvel x reader #moon knight fanfic #moon knight fluff #khonshu fanfic

[wishmemel]

OMGOMG SAFI congrats on 100 ml !! hihii im here to participate in your cute slumber party event ! (i even brought my fave pillow and totoro plushie)

okok soo yk i'm dria 🩵 black / caribbean, around 5'1 (i promise im so close to 5'2 don't @ me haters will hate i drink my milk and eat my veggies) i have huge hair!! like very big hair, too many curls!! it's alot! i love reading, i write plenty of poetry, which is what i use most of my time to do — i lovelove r&b and early 2000s rap music. however, if u open my spotify rn and shuffle my liked songs it would go in order of hip hop, rap, afrobeats, classical music bcus my taste is all over the place. (i also keep a folder of edit audios for my own maladaptive daydreaming purposes lmao)

im rlly a baby blue girlie, fave flowers are tulips (idk my brain js thinks they look yummy), fave season is autumn ofc bcus rainy weather and i have an excuse to stay inside under my blankets 😭 fave animal would beee a black panther or a tabby cat! (my bby bella is a tabby lmao) i love vintage shows (rlly old noir films of all types of genres) i love cinema and visual art it stimulates me sm (im autistic btw i forgot to say mb) i've watched almost every wes anderson film in existence i love soft color palettes in film so bad <3

i enjoy watching old cartoons to relive my childhood nostalgia, jewelry (esp rings i never go anywhere without one or two on), rainy days, late night car drives, baggy shirts, scented candles, afrobeats n anything astronomy related.

im very much a social science n humanities junkie - yearning to be a clinical psychiatrist or complete my dream of teaching literature / psychology. i cry very easily (im js a crybaby istg) - in general im just very very emotional and more often than not i forget common sense and instinct are a thing bcus wtv i feel i just go with it - though i am extremely introverted and freak out when overstimulated in huge crowds and whatnot.

for the event im picking toji bcus that man is the love of my life bye ☹️ the epitome of sunshine and sunshine protector - tiny human and big scary guard dog ! in terms of our compatibility, we're so opposite it's insane! but we balance each other out well. sometimes i have to serve as toji's brain bcus this man is spending money he does not have on all sorts of things for me js cause i looked twice (my sister hced that he'd go below bankrupt buying me sanrio plushies and rings) he works mostly off instinct where i go completely off emotion so we butt heads alot in terms of decision making but he does not know how to tell me no, all i do is sigh once and HES DONE FOR.

i stress this man out like hes my full time babysitter pls

we acc spend alot of time having deep talks about the world and life in general, (i told him ab the backrooms lore and it messed w his head for weeks) which is a side of him he rarely shows to anyone (also he listens to me rant abt daily pop culture developments bcus he lowkey loves the celebrity drama) he's rlly protective, and even moreso bcus of how my anxiety gets. in a crowd this man is standing in front of me and blocking my view of everyone (he also subconsciously pulls me into his side when we're walking in public bcus my autistic ass will see one thing and wander off never to be found again) im always talking like talk talk talking and he pretends he isn't listening but he's literally able to repeat today something i mentioned two weeks ago - he's attentive, shows his love through actions rather than words. if i even make a face that gives away that im uncomfortable being somewhere, or my social battery is dead, hes taking me home no questions asked not a care as to who says what.

im an affection junkie - physical touch is my thing ! and hes so big! so im always pouncing on him for bear hugs and he acts so unimpressed and cocky abt it like "oh you missed me? im not goin anywhere relax" but he acc melts bcus when was the last time someone gave him affection?? he prob thinks im a figment of his imagination lolol

days off / dates would mainly be : window shopping, grocery runs, sitting in the park at sunset, indoor ramen dates n movie marathons and cuddles !!

AHHH sorry if i ranted way too much omg i can't wait to see what you do safi, i'll love anything u write ily so baddd <33

note: hihi dria, thanks for bringing your fave pillow and your totoro plush to the slumber party.

dria x toji — ꒰ tojria

“in this space right here that we have made for each other, you can say anything and i will not abandon you. unwrap the worst things you have done. watch me hold them up to the light and not even flinch.”

height differences, cinnamoroll x badtz maru, protective touches, 3 am conversations about life, romantic picnics at sunset, shopping together, opposites attract, shy x protective, princess treatment, introvert x introvert, buckling your seatbelt for you, tired bf x hyper gf, teasing remarks, day x night, accidental eye contact, blushing, midnight walks, late night phone calls, giddiness, sunshine x sunshine protector, stealing his clothes, late night drives, deleted texts, holding hands under the table, "mean to everyone but her" bf, head pats, she fell first, he fell harder.

being with toji is not always as seamless or easy as you make it look. He's gruff and protective and difficult and incredibly stubborn. like that time you two fought because he was ignoring what you were saying and he flat-out refused to acknowledge your demand when you called him out on it. to be fair, he'd come home after an eight-hour shift and you'd started talking his head off, but it wouldn't kill him to listen. he wasn't paying attention when you were talking about that new hello kitty cafe with the fun milkshakes and the mini donuts that you wanted to try. hell, he ended up falling asleep on your shoulder after brushing off your argument and as much as you wanted to remain angry at him, you'd softened immediately upon seeing his tired face, all eyebags and troubled frown. and he did make it up to you later by taking you to said cafe and proving that he had been listening, though when you brought it up to him, he pretended not to know what you were talking about. but deep down he cares for you and he's trying — you know he's trying and you don't want to make him feel bad for things he can't control. a lot of the concerns you should bring up to him, you don't — you want this relationship to be easy and safe. you want him to feel comfortable with you the same way that you feel comfortable with him. even if sometimes he comes home with a busted lip and bloody knuckles and sends your heart skidding against your ribcage. but what matters is that he comes to you first and he comes home to you. so you know that no matter what, no matter how he's feeling, if he thinks he can talk to you or not, he'll always come home to you. and even if you doubt his commitment sometimes, he knows that you're home to him and he'll do anything to keep it that way.

NOW PLAYING

the way i loved you, enchanted, daylight, afterglow, how you get the girl, treacherous, sparks fly, so it goes...

join safi's perfect slumber party event — requests are open for everyone!

#꒰ safi's perfect slumber party. ꒱

[sunnybunny2468]

answering a entire ask game for one oc because i can (but its probably only gonna be miley)

(use the link for a key!!)

🌈 orange and grey, mainly neon orange and darker shades of grey (not black, more of a #48494a than a #acadb0 if that makes sense)

👁️ from how i see it? a moody teen who's only like that to counter his best friend. and while that's semi-true, he is meant to be a bit more than that.

💝 eeeeh....he just puts on a grey hoodie and calls it a day 99% of the time. he's always cold.

⚠️ 'incredibly paranoid and easily provoked, interact with caution.'

🌨️ outside with his camera, taking photos of anything that catches his eye, and probably napping in a few places while he's at it.

💙 somewhat messy, a few posters and a desk + spinny chair, closet, and a messy as hell bed

👖 i mean. hes in hs.

☕ he likes soda, cherry to be specific, but also can do with energy drinks sometimes. not often. he would refuse to ever sleep if he had them more.

🧁 8/31/2007, with his friend group. his parents try to leave something for him (one works day shift leaves a gift, one who works night shift gets a cake) but he spends the day with the rest of the quartet. Bri especially makes sure she wears something miku related (since him and miku share a birthday)

🧠 fight. easily fight. though he moreso.....either makes the other person try to hit him so he can dodge and blame it on them, or lets them tire themselves out.

💭 ooooh boy. inferiority complex, anger issues, paranoia, yeah hes doing great. a lot of shame, since he doesnt really feel like he's a good or worthy person.

💔 absolutely hard. he can come around to it after a WHILE, but forgiving himself is off the table.

❗ keeping his friends from other people bullying them, taking photos of important things, and just staying alive.

⚔️ he tries to stay out of it, unless it's someone he cares about or a unfair fight. then he steps in and ends it by either surprising the other person or scaring them off.

🌍 eeeh. he doesnt give a shit. he's not dying, is he? and he's a bad person, right? why worry about a way to redemption when you know you're already damned?

🌊 ...he really wants to take care of animals. cats, specifically. sadly, animals don't like him much, so he doesn't think it's possible.

✨ taking photos of his friends and keeping them physically. it's something to remind there are people who spend time on him and want him around. helps his self-loathing.

🧶 photography. he loves photography.

🍪 rain, somewhat flowers, and fire/smoke.

☔ he loves it. in his words, 'it keeps everyone else inside, so it's just me and my umbrella.'

🌲 his friends houses, but also a abandoned gazebo he found in the woods while taking photos. he goes there when he feels like being 100% sure he's alone.

⚡ no, not really.

🗡️ his camera, maybe?

💛 awkward as FUCK. he'll push lavender instead, he knows he's bad at it.

🧡 eeeeh. if you're trusted, absolutely.

👁️‍🗨️ don't. just dont. he HATES it.

🐺 he's alright with it. not for too long, but for a bit, sure.

🔅 cursing. LOTS of swearing.

🌱 (doing it from from ic dialogue) "Eh?- Early memory?- ...I guess meeting Bri is early enough. She approached me, pulled me up from my seat, and dragged me out to go play with her! ....I was looking for an excuse to talk to her, don't worry. Sometimes I wonder what would've happened to me if we never met...."

🐰 eeeeeh. depends on the person.

🍁 autumn. he likes it being cool but not too warm.

🌕 he'd be a standard orange fox. he loves them.

🦷 ......probably not. i hope.

🐉 dragon.

🐸 a lot of sarcasm, snide remarks and teasing.

🚷 he's blonde and has blue eyes (i have brown hair and hazel eyes)

📓 'I’ll take all your pain, so you’ll escape and leave someday' 'I’ll bear the weight for your sake', 'Your compromise is my invitation to fight', 'But don’t forget with whom you are associated, Which sounds unfair, but fair play is overrated', 'It’s not about the strength, it’s about where you strike', 'I’ve weaponized my helpless spite, Now how about that pride of yours?', 'A matter of morals, of course, Poor little boy can’t solve all his problems with force', 'It’s karma, dude!', 'I’m an undead hero', 'Pressure, pressure! A slick rhymed hooligan', 'Me, the result of blame-shifting, no, can’t find that funny, With just one mistake and I’m out of chances', 'Flames closing in, are both sides losers?', 'Let’s raise umbrellas as we shade the world from rain'

#📒 #infodump

[phoenixfiiire]

@lastflowerpetal from [x]

He knew she carried flowers around with her. It had been why the idea of offering her one had even first come to mind, though now that Joshua really thought about it he could see there were more than a few flaws in his plan. The thought of trying to muscle into her 'territory' had never even crossed his mind; it hadn't quite clicked until now that she didn't carry them just because she liked them. They were for her to sell.

Most of the people below the plates of Midgar seemed... dim. It was the only word that Joshua had found that came even close to properly describing what glancing at them felt like, and even then it didn't quite seem like enough. Not dim as it dumb or dull; they were plenty smart, probably even moreso than himself if he was being honest. But... just dim. Faded. Washed out. Their color and essence and being drained out drip by drip until they were just identical grey blurs.

It happened to people above the plates too, especially to those who worked with ShinRa. Their colors lasted just a little longer and they didn't turn grey so much as horribly washed out, but it happened to everyone.

Hojo said it was a side-effect of the Phoenix. That he could see into people. Joshua wasn't sure if he really understood it, but he knew the monotonous colors got to him sometimes. It made something in his head feel almost like it was itchy, and there was hardly a good way to reach inside and scratch it.

The girl with the flowers had never seemed dull or dim or gray.

"No, I wasn't planning on doing anything like that." She seemed disinterested in talking. It was likely a good sign for him to take a hint and leave, but he wasn't the best with social cues - and he was curious about her.

"You sell flowers? Here I was thinking you just carried them around for.... fun."

#ic ; in character #lastflowerpetal #genetic apostate ; ffvii

[narrators-journal]

I don't know if you're busy or not, but could you do a Mitsuru Kirijo from Persona 3 x Male Reader where the reader has known Mitsuru for most of his time in school, and Mitsuru allows him to join the student council... provided he and her do "the deed" because she knows how much he likes her?

This took a hot while to write because I fought to try and keep it close to the actual prompt and, y’know, mental health. However, nothing really felt RIGHT. I didn’t like all of my ideas for the set up to the smut. So, I went more TEASING rather than full on smut. I opted to just go for moreso variety over sticking to the request again. So, this is less smut, and more suggestion. Sorry if it sucks, or isn’t satisfying, but I tried, and I hope it’s fun at a minimum.

CW: masochism, perverted mc, sort of? Stripping? Nothing too explicit here, but still. Some warnings.

Your crush was...obvious.

Even to the lower classmen, your inability to keep your eyes off of Mitsuru Kirijo’s breasts whenever you so much as passed her in the hallways was as clear as crystal. So, you were pretty sure even the well off redhead was aware of your feelings for her.

So, you were a little surprised when she invited you to the student council room one friday. However, at the same time, it sent a thrill through you. I bet she’s alone in there.You thought as you made your way through the swiftly emptied hallways of the pristinely clean school. Alone, with sunset so close, so we’ll be here probably for a while. Maybe even well into the night! She could get a nap in with me there.

Sadly, the possible fantasy-come-true thought was pushed aside when you came up to the doors of the student council room. Which, was slightly opened, allowing you to peek inside to see Mitsuru with paperwork before her. So, you knocked, and was swiftly waved in.

Once inside, you were quick to notice that Mitsuru’s snowy button-up shirt was unbuttoned three to expose her plump, soft-looking breasts to the dimmed light of the day. Soft, heavy breasts that you couldn’t help but imagine sandwiching- “-I was wanting to offer you a position on the student council.”

Mitsuru’s words suddenly trickled in through the haze of lust you were suddenly awash with, which had your eyes snapped back to her face in a flash, “Join the student council? No offense, but why? I thought the council was for more ambitious and better graded students?” You asked, quick to sit at the boardroom table regardless while Mitsuru sighed, “Yes, I usually prefer to offer roles to trustworthy, hardworking students. However, with the apathy syndrome spreading around the school, our numbers are a bit low. And the options are a bit slim. So, I decided to offer this job to you.” She explained, “After all, while you are...more enthusiastic for women than classes, you seem to have the free time this club sometimes required. Meaning, you would be a pretty good work mule to help take the pressure off of the rest of us.” Ouch, but true. “Wait, so I’m just going to be a work mule?” You asked, the feigned offense not seeming to be believed, as Mitsuru only gave him a deadpan look. “Yes. But you will be here with me, so…” She didn’t say it, but they both understood how much of a bag of sugar that was to the pot. “Alright, you’ve got me. I’ll help.” You assured, your hands up in mock surrender. So, Mitsuru stood up from her paperwork file. A movement that allowed you to swiftly notice that the zipper of her skirt was lowered. Which, meant the fabric of her clothes were allowed to slip down when she began to pace.

Surely, she knows, right? I’m sure she can feel her skirt falling. You thought as you watched her hips sway as she walked, her words in one ear, out the other. Is this some sort of flirtation tactic? A test maybe? To see how I’ll pay attention? Or is she so desperate that she’s willing to use her body to convince me?

Regardless, oh god, Mitsuru’s shirt paired with how her unzipped skirt slid ever so slowly off of her hips, it taunted you. Teased you. Her fair skin slowly revealed as she paced around the student council room and listed all of the expectations she had for you when you joined the group.

However, the sharp crack of a ruler on the solid wood of the boardroom table snapped you back to reality. “Are you listening to me?” The stern redhead asked, the plastic ruler gripped in her hand like a riding crop, her firetruck-colored hair dancing with oranges and yellows from the colorful beams of sunset from the windows. Like the fires of lust that always seemed to come alive beneath your skin. “Huh?! Oh, yeah, I’m listening, I swear.” You assured, though you felt your cheeks warm as the intimidating woman examined your very soul. Before, slowly, she put the ruler on the table and leaned forward.

And, in that moment, you got the strong sense that the simple movement was some sort of test. After all, Mitsuru’s cleavage was on full display, with her white button up shirt hung open just enough to let you peek down and catch a glimpse of her- Oh god, Mitsuru’s bra was a sheer crimson mesh, with what seemed to be some sort of floral pattern. This definitely was a test of some sort, so any peek down at those full, heavy breasts would get you slapped with that ruler for sure. Not that I would particularly mind… “If you’ve been paying attention, which role did I just explain?” Mitsuru asked lowly, a quiet, cold threat wrapped in silk. “Um...fundraising, right?”

Just as you’d predicted, that blue plastic was used to slap you across your face. The pain seared into your cheek and pulsed over your skin, but you swallowed down the moan that it nearly brought. “False. I was discussing the paperwork we have to deal with for festivals. Not fundraisers.” She scolded, her frosty demeanor a contrast against the warmth in your belly. Almost enough to cause a shudder before you could regain your breath enough to mutter, “Yes ma’am…” “Good boy.” She hummed, almost a purr to apologize for the sting of the ruler. “Now, onto the funding methods.”

Just like that, the red-haired woman was back to her lesson. A lesson you were intended to absorb while her skirt finally fell so low, that the top half of her equally sheer red panties. Oh she definitely knows about that. You thought, your eyes instantly locked onto the scandalous clothes as they were revealed. Until, another sharp smack of the ruler brought your eyes back up to Mitsuru’s. “Pay attention, or you won’t get into the student council.” She snapped, and you could do little else but silently nod with a muttered ‘sorry’. God I am gonna be so fucked in this group.

#persona 3 #Mitsuru Kirijo x male!reader #persona #Mitsuru Kirijo #persona 3 reloaded #male!reader #x reader #lemon scented #not sfw #minors do not interact #mdni #spicy #ask #scenario

[cowboyjen68]

Hi. Hope your day is well. I’m unsure what you’ll think about this but I think I just need to get this off my chest to an older butch. I feel an incredibly deep core-of-my-being connection to butchness and butch culture but I’m not a lesbian at all, I’m a gay masc guy. It’s so hard to make sense of this feeling. I feel cripplingly insecure in calling myself butch since I am not a woman nor am I attracted to women, but it’s the only descriptor I’ve found that truly feels like home to me, and that’s a feeling I’m reluctant to rescind. Butch feels honest and warm and *right* in my soul, moreso than any other term I’ve tried on. The first time I considered using it as a term for myself it instantly, permanently clicked something inside me and I felt so much unexpected relief that I cried. I’ve done a lot of experimentation and soul searching, so I know it’s not gender dysphoria or a case of mistaken sexuality that drives this connection I have with butchness, but god do I wish it was. Every day I wish I was a lesbian so I could have something in common with the people I feel the deepest kinship with, so my adoption of this label could feel legitimate, so I would not be rejected from butchness. I feel completely alone, like I’m caught between separated worlds with no community to relate my experiences back to. It’s lonely.

My day is moving along. I am at my office job today but we are allowed to be on line and today is particularly quiet. Thank you for asking.

What I think is you sound like a person doing a lot of searching to find where you fit in life. I can make all kinds of assumptions about you but with Tumblr anons I might never know details and sometimes the depth of the answer is in those details.

You say you are a gay masc guy. So there you go. You know you aren't attracted to women and I believe you. Butch is a lesbian term used to describe lesbians who encounter certain biases and experiences due to how we are perceived in the world. As a masc guy attracted to only men you could not understand that. If you are consistently and reliably perceived as a man, or at least not a woman, you don't have the same social consequences as butches who are seen as "being a woman wrong" or "like a man" which we are neither.

Since you are not attracted to woman you have no claim to butch. As a masc guy you have your own experiences and I, with no doubts, believe you suffer from suppressions and limitations placed on you by society. But they are not the same as for butches. You don't have the same type of assumptions aimed at you.

I know some will see this as gatekeeping or word policing. I am okay with that. I am not going to lash out at people who feel they have the right to words that I think they don't. I can't change the actions of others but you asked my opinion and I am sharing with an honest answer.

You can't be rejected from butch because it was never for you to begin with. What you can do is find others like you to relate to. Find other masc guys or other men to befriend and share your experiences with. It also does not mean you can't be friends with butches. I have lots of friends who are masc, trans guys, straight guys and bi guys and every other kind of guy. One need not be a butch to befriend and respect butches. Just as I feel a kinship with my gay men friends, you can share a kinship with butch women. I think you will find using butch might cause some butches to feel less trusting of you.

Not being a lesbian is not a punishment. Each of us has the right to love who we are and embrace our sexuality. Please don't feel bad for being attracted to only men. It is normal and healthy.

My best advice would be to meet and befriend butch women in real life. This might help you understand the differences you have and also discover the similarities that draw you to the word and maybe give you some clarity about yourself.

#masc #butch #lesbian #gay

[words-without-rules]

Incoming rant:

I swear, it feels like anytime I try expressing my gender or sexual identity, it always becomes a whole fucking thing. No matter how hard I try to explain it, it's like they just don't really get it. And, honestly, most of the time, neither do I. I don't feel like a girl or a boy and frankly it bugs me more than I'd like when people refer to me as either. Moreso as a girl because that is what I was assigned at birth as and what I look like, I guess. But I've always felt like I act a lot more like a boy. Ever since I was little, I even refered to myself as a tomboy so I suppose that was the start of it. But I also have a few feminine traits and insterests, I suppose? Which honestly I don't think those things should matter because gender rules are fucking bullshit and don't mean anything!! Which is why recently I started identifying as agender, but I've still been accepting she/her and he/him pronouns, because, I don't know, those just don't really trigger the same response as being called a girl or a boy does in me. But I feel like that's making it more confusing for everyone around me, because they're not sure how to refer to me and can sometimes end up calling me a girl or a boy by mistake. Or some people are just assholes and insist on calling me a girl because of my fucking sex. And what's even sadder is a few of them have been members of the queer community themselves which makes no fucking sense to me! So now I'm considering switching to just they/them pronouns but that's probably just going to make it even harder for people. So maybe it doesn't even make a fucking difference, I don't know. I just really don't give a damn about gender when it comes to identity or romantic or sexual preference. It makes no difference to me. The person on the inside is all that matters to me. Of course, I respect all others identities and pronouns still, this is all just my personal preference. But, I don't know, I've been struggling for years to find the words to properly identify myself. Hell, I remember the day I discovered pansexual was a thing and I was blown away, because I had never felt so.. I don't know, seen? That may not be the right word. And I only just looked up the definitions for all of the non binary terms and learned those for the first time to confirm agender was really the closest term to how I feel. And it is. So now I'm just stuck on the whole pronoun problem. I know people are going to mess it up no matter what I decide, so is there really a point? I honestly just want it to not matter. I want people to call me whatever and just not really care, but I do and I hate it. I'm stuck on this fence of if gender doesn't matter, does it matter how people see my gender or not? Because if they see me as a certain gender, they might make certain assumptions about me as a person based off of that and I can't describe how much I fucking hate it when people do that. I am not my gender! I am who I choose to be and I don't consider gender as any part of that. It's seperate entirely, in my eyes. But I know most people aren't going to see it that way. They'll just skip right ahead into putting me in a box. I hate it. I hate it so much. I've been trying so hard to just ignore it and not let it bother me, but it's getting harder and harder and I don't know how much longer I can keep doing it...

#rant #gender dysphoria #lgbtq #agender #nonbinary #pronouns #pansexual