#and looking at these results in the context of when they first got together
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A Brief AU Explanation
I noticed that there are a lot of new followers that do know Danny Phantom, and others that the know very little. I am also aware that I haven't fully explained - maybe NOT in too much detail - the "story" and plots of my AU. You only have the ideas that I've been telling of this story through illustrations.
This AU is all about reconnecting with one self, with Jazz and Dan as the main two of this particular game.
Jazz remains as the same character that is portrayed through the OG show. She has always been the psychology enthusiast of the group, the one that cares for others and help with whatever she can. For her, others come first. First being her family.
On the other hand, we have Dan, an alternate entity of Danny’s ghost half and Vlad’s. A new form of entity that lost his humanity. For him to show any form of emotion is null.
Jazz involvement in this has to do with her putting everyone else first and then herself, and being keen to the study of the human-psyche, and now ghost-psyche, she secretly partakes to the role of Dan’s therapist. This was kept in secret from the rest of her friends and Danny until she can gain more control over Dan.
This, of course, prove to be a VERY difficult task. With her having to hide her constant fears when facing that “particular someone”: he could go on a rampage, have uncontrollable outbursts, cause havoc, and that he could turn against her any day/time without any remorse. She knows this, but she also knows that deep down, her little brother is still there. She’s looking to rekindle that part of him again. Of course, never knowing at what extent this could go.
And this, apparently started to bear fruit, although at a slow pace. As Jazz stood closer and closer to him, she understood that he stayed alone his entire life, and after losing everyone he cared, his violent actions were his significance of showing the world "hurting". The hurt he have been caring so many years. Now he has that second chance. To “live” a new life and Jazz wants to help him out.
With this new information, each time Jazz got close to him, Dan, instead of seeing her as an obnoxious-human-parasite, he slowly starts bonding with her. His interest increasing each day he is with her and grows more comfortable being around her (something Dan originally despised).
***
Part of this AU, enrolls on a particular context that the ghost of a halfa is sentient. The original show as proven this*. When Danny’s ghost has been separated, his ghost has a mind of his own, but when staying together, human-ghost, the consciousness of the halfa acts as one.
*Episodes in question: What You Want, Identity Crisis, The Ultimate Enemy
This part that the ghost plays on the known halfas is a mayor plot point from this AU. Let me explain my concept briefly:
This roll that the ghost is part of the halfa is the one that caries the power of the wielder (human). The human can transform into the ghost and vice versa. The ghost powers remain within the ghost half. The human half acts as a vessel/host to the ghost half.
All living things have the instinct of survival. And on this case, the ghosts would do ANYTHING to keep their host safe as they are the means of a linked connection human-ghost. Not unlike the rest of non-halfa- ghosts that their link/host relies on the Ghost Zone -since they no longer have a corporeal body, the vessel for their survival is ectoplasmic energy, the one that emanates from the GZ.
***
Since Dan is no longer connected to a human, he became a full-ghost. An entity that merged from two ghost halfas. He can sustain himself alone, but strangely enough, he building a bond with Jazz, it rekindled what Jazz intended, but in an unusual way.
Jazz intention was to try and reconnect Dan with his long-lost humanity. Even if he didn’t have a human half, both his ghosts may have some little information stored deep within of what that used to feel like. And even though that started to give results, the ghost also retained that of his original purpose: Protect the host.
And as the bond Dan and Jazz grew more and more, unknown to them, it caused a physical manifestation: a white streak formed in Jazz’s hair. And even if this came up as a surprise to Jazz, she later discovered that this manifestation was much more than just physical.
Dan rekindled his humanity but he, unknowingly, intertwined Jasmine’s humanity to his. Her humanity is part of him. Jasmine’s emotions have an impact on him. Whatever she feels, he can sense it, let them be good or bad ones.
They both are this new form of halfa, both human and ghost are separate life forms, but from the ghost side -Dan’s perspective- Jazz is acting as his human half. His host. That’s is why his instincts respond to protect her at all costs.
No. This new form of a halfa representation doesn't mean Jazz has ghost powers. The one with that power is Dan. This bond is more of a psychic link.
(i.e. In European folklore, you “could” say Dan is Jasmine’s "familiar", although Jazz is not considered to be a witch, but imagine the possibilities of this small plot causing people or ghosts to think Jazz is a witch… idk… random ideas)
This is why Dan is more sympathetic towards Jazz and why their bond is very important.
______________
It's worth pointing out that I don't have a specific name for this AU, like many people do when they create these stories.
And NO. Please refrain from saying this is a romantic relationship. It is a sibling/platonic relationship.
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୨♡୧ THE MAN WHO HUNG THE MOON — sakusa kiyoomi x reader. sfw. fluff. dad!sakusa.
the sound of sleepy giggles from down the hall makes a smile tug at the corner of your lips. as you pick up the toys scattered about the living room, you picture the scene; your daughter comfy under her blanket and sakusa squeezed into the toddler bed beside her with a book of her choice in his hands. he’s probably changing his voice with each character just the way she likes, tickling her tummy every time she laughs so that the joyous sound is prolonged. little moments like these, ones that warrant you a glimpse into their daddy-daughter time never fail to make your heart swell.
the noise from the back dies down a few minutes later and the quiet click of a door closing tells you that your husband has finished putting the girl to bed. you’re almost finished cleaning up the toys left behind in the living when sakusa wraps his arms around you from behind, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. he doesn’t give you time to savor the feel of him before he’s gone, leaning down to aid you in tidying up.
you shoot him a petulant look that he can’t see as you reach down to pick up the doll by your feet. you have every intention of tossing it in the bin with the rest of your daughter’s things but before you can, you realize that you don’t recognize it. your eyebrows knit together in confusion as you meet sakusa at the toy bin. “when did you get her this?”
“a few days ago,” he replies upon seeing it. in all honesty, he had meant to put the doll away before you returned home. now that the cat is out of the bag, he might as well be entirely transparent. “and i actually got it for me.”
“like, got it for you so the two of you could play together?” you eye him curiously with your question. you’re sure that’s what he meant but, without context, the statement produces an entertaining image in your head of the man playing with toys even in the absence of your daughter.
“not really,” sakusa admits, and he can see a sparkle of interest swimming in your gaze. the real reasoning behind the purchase is nothing to be embarrassed about but he still hesitates to spit it out. he’d hoped that you would see the result before you could ask about the process.
“sakura told me she likes the way you put her hair in two braids so i bought the doll to practice.” he turns the doll in your hands so that you can see what he’s taken away from the youtube tutorials in the past few days. it’s a lot better than his first attempt but sakusa thinks he could use a few more sessions to hone the skill before surprising sakura with the style.
you survey his work on the synthetic hair. it’s not bad by any means. the braids are a little loose, but you can clearly see all of the effort he’s put in. you glance up to meet his onyx gaze and offer him a smile. “you’re cute. but why didn’t you just ask me? i would have been more than happy to teach you.”
the thought had passed sakusa’s mind when the girl had first told him that she preferred the way you did her hair but he had convinced himself that the task was something he could easily do on his own. it’s not that he feels like he’s above asking for help, though, he does feel like you’re busy enough with work of your own. the last thing he wanted to do was worry you with this—something he should be entirely capable of.
“you already have so much on your plate, i thought i could take care of this on my own.” sakusa takes the doll from your hands and places it with the rest of the toys in the wooden chest before closing it.
it’s hard to believe that this is the same man that expressed doubts about whether or not he’d be a good dad before your daughter arrived. every day since then, he’s proven that his anxieties about being a parent were misplaced. sakura looks at him with stars in her eyes, like he’s the very person that hung the moon—a lot like you’re looking at him now.
you interlace your fingers with his slim ones, giving his hands a comforting squeeze as you boost yourself up on the tips of your toes to press your lips against his in a soft kiss. his breath is minty, likely from brushing his teeth with sakura not too long ago. you pull away with a smile, bumping the tip of your nose against his before returning to your normal height. “she’s going to love when you do her hair.”
thanks for reading! consider commenting or reblogging if you enjoyed ❤︎
#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: haikyuu#sakusa kiyoomi x reader#sakusa x reader#hq x reader#haikyuu x reader#sakusa fluff#haikyuu fluff#sakusa imagines#haikyuu imagines#sakusa drabble#haikyuu drabbles#sakusa scenarios#haikyuu scenarios
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I love jack so so much he's perfect but tbh I do think it would've worked much more with the show if he was a destiel baby instead of lucifer's. and I'm not just saying that as a shipper or whatever I mean narratively it would've been a lot cleaner- and actually, I think it would've been super funny to no-homo them creating a baby together, like, literally all they would have to do is say "oh, when cas rebuilt dean after hell he accidentally left some grace tangled in his soul, and every time he's healed him since then it's been growing stronger until a nephilim was born". like yes the studio is homophibic etc etc but all the jokes they'd make about dean being spiritually pregnant would be very funny for me personally.
but ANYWAY, jack's story gets messy and convoluted and I think this would've been like...a simple fix. them worrying about him going dark side could be because they're worried how demon!dean and lucifer!cas affected him in development, the show LOVES bloodline drama, chuck's wanting abraham and issac 2.0 would've worked better this way, dean's storyline with him would be improved, bc rather than 'oh no I slowly but surely emotionally adopted the antichrist' like I think he would've had an easier time clocking his john-behavoir if it wasn't a question whether he was jack's dad or not. plus last time dean actively raised a kid he went to great lengths to keep the supernatural away from him, so it'd be interesting to see how he handles a kid he CANT possibly hide from this part of his life. it would make more sense why michael wanted jack as a vessel- yes obviously he wanted the nephilim power boost but also having him as part of the winchester bloodline, making him a PERFECT vessel he doesn't have to worry about burning up would add a lot. we could also use this argument for why lucifer is so interested in him if anyone actually liked that plotline in season 14 lmao. we know chuck hated cas and dean's relationship, could you imagine if he checked in and found out they made an unauthorized baby together💀 like that really would've given better context for why he hates jack so much. cas wouldn't need that whole weird brainwashing arc to wanna protect unborn jack, PLUS it could've been an interesting source of angst for him- he feels like he's failed once again, creating an abomination and putting dean in danger, but also still loves jack immensely. it'd be so good! also imagine how fucking stressed out heaven would be to find out a mini castiel is on the way. they wouldn't even wanna exploit that kid for power they'd be preemptively treating the headaches they know they're gonna get lmfao.
also. the casting directors literally put jensen and misha into a face morph app and cast the first actor they could find that matched the results. which would've made more sense if,,,,he was just Theirs. the comedy of dean and cas making a baby before either of them managed to admit their feelings to each other would be more fun then the "dude adopted a kid and pawns him off on his unwilling roommate's all the time and they eventually warm up to the kid" storyline we actually got. we also could've replaced some of the jack-dean angst from the show with "dean wants to connect more with jack but he feels shut out whenever cas is around bc he can't relate to any angel stuff so obviously jack's going to cas for help more!", which I think would be interesting!! how AWFUL dean and cas would feel that jack didn't feel safe enough to be a baby. dad!sam is still in full swing but he cares for jack right off the bat instead of trying to use him for his powers at first. lily sunder talking about how cas killed her kid bc he thought it was a nephilim and dean, who's already fully aware he's (spiritually) knocked up by cas is like 👹 inch resting cas-tee-elle tell me more. mary having a 'my baby has a baby' crisis. cas insisting jack looks nothing like him is a running joke but then at some point he explains its bc jack's 'true form' looks just like dean's soul....
ALSO- in a show where, canonically, the very first act of free will was cas falling in love with dean...the physical manifestation of that defeating chuck and taking his place as god? come ON.
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PARTY 4 U [PT. 1]
Sungchan ₊ ⊹₍ᐢᐢ₎ mdni!! 18+
currently listening to: WANTED U - JOJI
word count: 2.1k
bb note: >:], pt. 2 posted!
You should’ve known your heart was too delicate for this. Incapable of detaching physical affection from romantic feeling. Or maybe you would have been able to pull it off, just with someone else. Definitely not with a friend you made your first semester in college who you had harbored a silent crush on for the last 4 years. But Sungchan was easy to love, even before you realized what it is you felt for him. He was beautiful beyond reason, and you watched him transform before your very eyes from the nervous and awkward boy freshman year, into someone who walked and talked confidence. But to you, he would always maintain a boyishness to him. A part of him that you cherished because you felt like he only showed it to you in the private moments the two of you shared.
The night everything started, you had both had a few too many drinks amongst friends hosted at his place. He was always the flirtatious one, but everyone knew that you yourself couldn’t hold back when you got a little tipsy. It started off innocent enough, being forced to sit pressed up against each other to accommodate everyone in the room. But then came the lingering stares, turning into touches that lasted a little too long, a hand on your thigh to catch your attention, you running your nails across his bicep in admiration of the time he spent at the campus gym. You had both done this song and dance a few times over the years, but never taking it too far. The timing was just never right, you had a boyfriend, or he had a girlfriend, or he was getting over a breakup or you just got out of a messy relationship, etc. Maybe it’s because of the way the circumstances lined up, but at the end of the night when the party goers eventually dwindled down with the remaining few leaving for a food run, you didn’t accept the invitation to tag along. Claims of feeling too ill to sit in a moving car right now falling easily from your lips, the feeling of your thigh pressed against Sungchan’s not something you were willing to sacrifice. You could barely hear them as they called they would be right back, your focus turning to him once the door shut behind them.
It wasn’t quick and heated like you see in the movies when the two leads finally get together, with lips crashing against each other and grabby hands. It was something different altogether, something better.
All your bite left you when the door shut, body going still against his, not wanting to be the one who says something first. You turn your face away from his, too afraid to come face to face with the result of your rash decision, worried that maybe you overthought everything. A silence passes, and then some more, and you’re starting to think that maybe he was just doing it for fun, of course he wouldn’t kiss you.
And then, so quiet and so gentle you barely feel it, you feel his lips on your temple. Your heart feels like its slamming against your rib cage as you feel his large hand cup your jaw ever so gently. In that same manner, he turns you to look at him, a thumb brushing over your bottom lip. You bring your gaze to his, catching the way he looks at your lips and then back at your eyes. Slowly he brings his face to yours, you doing the same, fluttering your eyes closed when you feel his lips press against yours for the first time. Your heart explodes despite the softness of the kiss, and you wish you could kiss him all the time, in any context. When he pulls away you feel a little dazed, you hear him swallow before he whispers,
“Is this okay?”
All you offer is a nod of your head, already leaning in again, feeling bold now. The second kiss is more sure, your mouth firm against his as his hands are on the back of your neck now, holding you in place as you lean into him. It’s starting to get a little more heated with each press of your lips against the other’s, both of you growing restless, the angle starting to hurt your neck a little. As you kiss him, he tries to slide you into his lap from his spot on the couch, picking up your legs so you get the hint. You pull away briefly when you understand, moving to straddle him, body pressed flush to his on his sofa.
You're embarrassed to admit but already you can feel yourself getting wet. The heightened emotions coupled with the pretty boy pressed against you and your light buzz going on making you horny. Sungchan’s not faring much better, if the half-hard bulge pressed against your core is anything to go by. From his spot underneath you he kisses at your neck, nipping occasionally, the sensation of it making you unconsciously grind your hips against his. When he lets out a moan against your throat, its all over. He brings his hands to your ass as you push your mouth back onto his, his large hands encouraging you to hump against him as his tongue enters your mouth. From there everything is rushed, chasing the only goal the two of you can think of at the moment, release before everyone gets back.
Sungchan wishes it was different, he wishes he could take you to his room and take his time with you. In his head he knows exactly what he would do, starting with feeling you up, just groping every part of your body within his reach. He would pull pretty noises from you until you were desperate enough for him before pushing a hand over your panty covered cunt, rubbing you over the fabric, wanting to feel how soaked you get. And you’re just so pretty, he would never admit to anyone other to himself the amount of times he’s gotten off to the thought of you over the last few years. In his fantasies he imagines that you get so wet, so messy and just for him. And when you soak through your panties, then he would toy with you without them on, finding out exactly how you like to be fingered, playing with your clit until it was twitching, drawing it out as much as he could. Only after making you cum on his fingers would he finally give you what you want, fucking you exactly the way you need him to until your creaming around him. God he prays that he gets more time with you in the future.
For now, he settles for pulling your hips against his in tandem with his grinds against you. He hates that you wore jeans, the baggy fabric of the denim too thick to see how wet you are for him. But he can tell the press of the fabric against you is making you feel good, if your gasps are telling him correctly. Despite never seeing you get off, when your gasps start to get hiccup-y he can tell you’re getting close, as you lean down to sink your teeth into his shoulder.
“close, baby?”
The pet name makes you want to die, breathe stuttering when you hear it. Sungchan notes this before taking in your nod, starting to fuck up his hips a little rougher, trying to make sure you feel all of him even through the layers of clothing separating the two of you. He can feel that he’s close too, cock painfully hard in his own jeans, needing release. When you start to whine as you move your hips with more vigor he can tell you’re right there.
“Make a mess, y/n.”
That’s all it takes before you’re cumming against him, rolling your hips as deep as you can, his hands still on your ass to guide you through it. You push yourself to keep going, even when the sensitivity starts to become a bit much, trying to get him to cum also. When he finally does he grips your ass hard, pressing against you tightly as he lets out a few more thrusts against you, you watch his blissed out expression as he cums with his head tossed back. You swear you hear him utter a “take it”, but that’s something you’re gonna have to return to later. For now you both just sit there panting as you collapse against his chest.
You can’t help but wonder what the fuck you just did, being able to fully weigh the implications of your actions now that the horniness clouding your brain is gone. You’re too scared to speak, too scared to move. The only thing that gets you up and pulled to your senses is Sungchan letting you know that he can see the shared locations of your friends heading back now. This would be the first of many times the both of you helped clean each other up afterwards. In an embarrassing turn of events you ended up having to ask Sungchan for a spare pair of boxers, knowing that the large fabric would be partially annoying but not as annoying as walking around with a soaked through pair of panties.
He lets you use his private bathroom to get situated, and when you finally emerge you’re holding your balled up pair of underwear pinched between two fingers. If he hadn’t just came Sungchan would no doubt be popping a boner again at the thought of his clothing worn to protect your most intimate parts. Humiliation burns through you as you try and think of a less totally awkward way of asking for a Ziploc bag for your panties. Sungchan senses this, half-enjoying the way you look so flustered as you struggle to come up with the right words and jumps at the opportunity, not even trying to hide his possessiveness.
“I could just.. keep them… you know, for safekeeping..”
As he says this he brings a hand up to scratch the back of his neck, his attempt at being nonchalant failing miserably, making you giggle.
“Sure Sungchan.. for ‘safekeeping’, definitely for no other reason.”
When you toss them at him, he does his best to make the way he fumbles to catch them look less pathetic. Clearing his throat once he has them, tucking them in his nightstand drawer. That is definitely going to keep you awake later. You pray to god that everyone is still too out of their mind when they come back to bring up how Sungchan did an entire outfit change. The only person sober enough to notice being Shotaro, but he’s kind enough to not say anything in front of everyone. The both of you come up with some bullshit story about how you accidentally spilt the remnants of your vodka redbull on him just in case anyone mentions it. You had to argue with him to change it from his original story of you puking on him, wanting to save yourself at least a little pride.
Once you’re both settled back on the couch the same way you were when everyone left, there’s a certain tension hanging in the air. His arm hangs around the back of the couch, and if you leaned back far enough then it would be wrapped around you. You don’t know what any of this means, and you’re starting to feel like maybe you shouldn’t have done what you did. Yes, it was a dream come true, but you still can’t get a read on how he feels. The tragedies write themselves really, because when he asks you the question you had been waiting for, you fumble.
“So,”
You turn to look at him at the sound of his voice, and he’s looking at you too tenderly, and you’re starting to panic,
“what.. what is this?”
Why is he making you answer that question? What is it that he wanted it to be? And are you crazy for thinking too much into it? What if all he wanted was to fuck, and what if when you asked for more he got weirded out. What were you supposed to say?
“Um..”
He watches how you hesitate, the sound of you swallowing audible in the quiet room. If you would just look at him you would see the want in his eyes, the way his own heart is beating too loudly and too quickly. When you hear the voices of your friends coming down the hall of his apartment building, you panic as the doorknob jiggles.
“let’s just keep it casual?”
And if you were watching him, you would see how his smile falls. But there’s not enough time and the door is opening and he’s pulling his arm away from you, sitting up straighter on the sofa. The last thing you hear before your friends greet you with stories of their drunk trip to Mcdonald’s being Sungchan’s voice sounding absurdly small as he says,
“if it’s what you really want..”
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Haikyuu Dick Headcannons Pt. 3
Ft. the Seijoh men (Tooru Oikawa, Hajime Iwaizumi, Issei Matsukawa, Takahiro Hanamaki, Kentarou Kyoutani, Yuutarou Kindaichi, Akira Kunimi)
Tw: implied yandere, implications of stalking, lots of talk about cum, masturbation, oral, praise, a sprinkle of degradation, PSA Oikawa cries during sex, very slight misogyny in Kunimi's, fem reader, MDNI
Tooru’s cock is, just like the rest of him, pretty. It’s pale, slender, rigidly straight with a perfectly shaped bulbous tip that always makes this lewd schmuck noise when he pulls out of you. As he gets closer to coming his tip gets a little pink, but it’s nothing compared to the flush sitting high on his cheeks, or the rosy red of his lips. He’s got a single vein that runs along his underside, so it doesn’t marr the smooth appearance but still gives you that extra bit of stimulation when he’s fucking you. It’s just an overall outstanding cock, and he knows it, too - he’s confident in his body in general, but this is particularly true in the context of his penis. He takes good care of himself, shaving and making sure to use expensive oils and lotions to minimize any ingrown hairs or razor burns. He even uses a special genital cologne, just to make sure he smells good too. (The scent is one he thinks you’d like - he’d brought you to a perfumery one time as a joke because he thought seeing you scrunch your nose at some of the smellier ones was entertaining, but he’d been keeping note of which ones you’d found agreeable when he shoved them at you.) He’s not terribly sensitive - particularly when you’re sucking him off, because while it feels amazing to have your lips wrapped around him, he’s gotten enough head through his life that he’s just jaded and too used to it to find it especially pleasurable. But being inside you? That’s a different story - he hasn’t actually fucked that many women, and as a result the moment he slips inside you for the first time he’s gasping, his eyes blowing wide and this strangled, vulnerable little noise coming from his throat. He still takes a while to come, but he’ll gasp and murmur praise in your ear the entire time he’s thrusting into you, because you just feel so good and warm and tight.
He’s a shooter, and it makes this perfect, porn-worthy little arc as he throws his head back and moans your name. He doesn’t produce much in terms of volume, but it’s pretty runny, so it’ll often feel like there’s more there than there really is. His cum is very smooth; there’s no lumps or globs, and when he rubs it against your skin (because he likes seeing you covered in it, and he claims it’s good for your skin - rich in nutrients and makes you glow) it almost feels like a thin lotion. When he comes his whole body freezes up, every muscle going taut and tensing up as the pleasure overwhelms him. He’s still for a moment, but after the first initial wave he’s suddenly moving like a madman, his hips bobbing and thrusting wildly and unpredictably, desperate to get any last bit of pleasure they possibly can. He’s always clutching onto you, too, like he needs to ground himself or else he’ll get carried away by the pleasure. (This often leads to finger shaped bruises appearing on your hips and ass, sometimes even your breasts, and while he’s apologetic about it, he doesn’t feel bad.) He makes this high, airy sort of moan when he’s coming, and his eyes always shut tightly, his thin brows scrunching together and his mouth morphing into a sort of grimace. He looks like he’s in pain, but he’s not - it feels so, so very good, and he’s just trying to stop himself from moaning something stupid or crying. (He does cry sometimes, if the sex is particularly emotionally charged - the first time you tell him you love him gets him sobbing as he bends your knees up to your chin, plugging you full with his cock, and kissing you the whole time, whispering to you in a strained, broken moan I love you I love you I love you, fuck tell me you love me again-)
His favorite way for you to touch him is when you’re simply good for him, taking his cock and letting him do as he pleases with you. He likes when you’re receptive to his touches, and ideally you’d be spread out before him on the bed, your legs wrapped around his waist and your fingers alternating between running through his brown locks and scratching down his back when you’re getting close. He likes the way your cunt flutters around him, your walls rubbing him and massaging his length in a way that makes him breathless, and sometimes his arms even go a bit weak and he nearly falls down on top of you because you just feel too damn good. He likes when you thrust your hips in time with his, trying to get him in deeper and feel him to a much fuller extent. It makes him feel wanted, like he’s doing a good job of pleasuring you, and if you moan? Tooru’s gone, burying his face into your neck and moving from the languid, sensual pace he’d been fucking you at to a more purposeful, calculated one, aiming for that spot he knows you love with every snap of his hips. He especially likes it when you come on his cock - the way you clench down on him makes him light headed, and sometimes - when your orgasm is powerful enough - you squeeze him hard enough to force him out of your cunt, his cock still swollen and throbbing, your slick coating him while he watches you fall apart below him. He likes the way you spasm around him, and more often than not it lulls him into his own orgasm, spurting cum into you and gasping your name with his lips wrapped around your sensitive nipple. He just really, really likes when you willingly pull him closer and encourage him to fuck you deeper; it’s a surefire way to get him breathless and crying out your name.
He’s solidly five and a half inches, with dark hairs framing his base and naval. It’s the perfect shape, with a slight curve upwards that hits you just right when he’s got you spread out on your back, bulbous tip ramming into that spot over and over again. It’s incredibly easy to arouse him - his cock’s got a mind of its own, and often there’s blood rushing south from the slightest things, like you licking your lips (he can’t not imagine how they’d look around his length) or mindlessly playing with your fingers (they’d look so small against him, running along his chest and gripping around his cock; he bets you couldn’t even touch your fingers when you grip him). He gets hard embarrassingly quickly, and stays hard, even if he desperately tries to get rid of it. This causes quite a few awkward moments when he’s around you, and he tries to wear baggier pants whenever there’s a chance you might be present - just because every encounter with you more often than not leads to him popping a boner at least twice. He’s moderately sensitive, and particularly likes when you give his tip and base attention at the same time. He likes when you suckle at the head and lap your tongue up and down his slit, all while your fingers massage and grope at the juncture between his shaft and his pelvis. It makes him shudder, eyebrows drawing together, and gets his hips bucking forward slightly. Especially if you rub at the spot right above where his balls and shaft meet - it makes him actually growl.
His cum is thick and pretty bitter, landing on your tongue and leaving a residue like thick oil. The taste is hard to get out of your mouth, unfortunately, and when you tell Hajime this he’ll immediately feel guilty for how much he likes to finish down your throat. After that, every time you suck him off he’ll come on your face - he justifies it as being less invasive of your wishes, and because it seems to actually be good for your skin. (One time you’d had a nasty pimple, and after a spurt of his cum landed on it, the next morning it disappeared.) It’s okay, though, because his favorite place to come is actually on you, specifically on your pussy. He likes pulling out at the last minute and finishing himself off, watching as cum dribbles onto your pretty lips, making an absolute mess out of you and leaving you all sticky and warm. He’ll run his fingers through it sometimes, staring with this look of awe, intensely enough that you’ll get embarrassed. His ultimate, though, is when your spread your lips for him, exposing your quivering, swollen little hole, and he comes all over that - it’s dirty, taboo, and it makes his possessive urges towards you calm down a bit because now you’re marked as his, and anyone else can see the globs of his cum that are pressed up right against your most sensitive, intimate area. Of course, though, if you want him to come inside, he’ll never say no. He’s a gasper, his breath always getting caught when he’s fucking you. When he first shoves himself inside, he’s gasping lowly and biting his lip, trying to control himself and hold back the orgasm that’s already dangerously close. He’s not too terribly vocal for the most part, but when he gets close to coming he’s stuttering out your name, each syllable punctuated with a grunt and a gasp, until eventually he’s coming, his eyes blowing wide and a strained slur of your name falling from his lips. He stares the whole time, unwilling to look away, and it’s not until the oversensitivity overwhelms him that he lets the moment end.
His favorite way for you to touch him is when he’s giving himself a pussy job, using - of course - you. In general, he’s utterly fascinated by your cunt - he’s always staring at it, and although he’s certainly no virgin, there’s something about your folds, specifically, that makes him salivate. He’s always trying to rut his cock against you, obsessed with the feeling of the most intimate part of you touching the most intimate part of him, and he wants nothing more than to have you spread out before him, your eyes blown wide and legs spread for him, pretty body on display for him as he fists his cock. He wants to run his tip through your folds, to collect all your slick and wetness at his head, watching the way it mixes with his own pre, leaving him a sticky, wet mess that shines and gleans in the light. He’ll grip himself at the base, harshly exhaling as he runs himself slowly, so damn slowly, up and up, letting himself dip deeper inside every few centimeters, just enough to tease both him and you. He’ll run himself all the up to your clit, muttering out a curse as his tip draws circles against your little nub, his slit feeling so sensitive and needy that it makes him crazy. When he’s doing this, he tends to murmur your name a lot, growls of how pretty you look, amazed comments of how you’re already so wet for him, and curses of how fucking tiny your little pussy are always slipping past his lips. He’s amazed by how he can possibly fit inside you - you look so small and tight, and his cock looks much too big in comparison, and the idea of stretching you out gets him gulping, his cock visibly throbbing. Eventually he’ll cave and shove himself in, apologizing through grunts that he just can’t hold himself back anymore, that he can’t keep teasing himself, that he needs to be inside you and feeling how warm and wet and perfect you are. He’ll come very quickly after doing this - it only takes a few minutes, and soon he’s groaning your name and spilling inside of you, spurts of hot, thick cum plugging you up while he breathes in your scent and basks in you.
He’s a tall man, and his cock reflects that - it’s long, easily six and a half inches, hanging so heavily between his legs that even when he’s fully hard, swollen and practically begging to sink itself inside of you, it’s only standing at about 120 degrees, too weighed down by it’s own size to fully stand up. He’s not especially thick, but he’s veiny, with the raised skin criss-crossing and feeling perfect when they rub up against your spongy, sensitive walls. He’s not too terribly sensitive, but he likes steady, consistent pleasure stimulation, like a constant pace when he’s fucking you, or when you bob your head steadily, tongue lapping at his underside with fervor. His tip is always a darker shade than the rest of his shaft, the color matching his balls, and Issei particularly likes when you pay attention to those two areas. He’s extremely sensitive when it comes to any sort of stimulation to his balls, and the moment that your fingers brush them or your tongue flicks at them, he’s groaning, Adam’s apple bobbing as he tells you to do that again, angel, fuck just like that. He likes when you suck on them, trying to fit as much of each one into your mouth as you can, and just the sight of your lips wrapped around one while you suck and thumb at his tip with your hand makes his head spin, his orgasm drawing closer and closer at an alarming rate. He has a thing for making you kneel below him, and he really likes to be the one standing over you - there’s something about the power dynamic that gets him harder than he’s ever been in his life, and when you look up at him all sultry and dirty like that, it takes everything in him to not force your lips apart and fuck your throat like an animal. (And sometimes, the urge is too strong - you’re left with a bruised throat and a hoarse voice, but everytime you talk to him like that it makes his expression darken, his cock growing hard once more and soon you’ll find yourself bent over the nearest surface, ass cheeks on display while he breaths hard and nudges his tip at your hole, determined to give you a bruised cunt to match your throat.)
His cum is thick too, but sometimes the consistency can be a little strange. It tends to glob up a bit, and because he dribbles when he comes, this can sometimes result in little spurts oozing out of his tip. The volume of cum is quite high, and because of this, when he comes inside you, you can really only describe it as him stuffing you full. (He’s seen your tummy swell before when he’s creampied you - you don’t really believe him, but he swears your stomach got bigger. And just the thought of that - that he stuffed you full enough to stretch that little pussy of yours out - is enough to get him growling and sucking dark hickeys into your neck, his possessiveness shooting through the roof.) He’s not especially vocal in bed, normally preferring to stay quiet and just listen to you, but as he gets closer his breathing starts getting really heavy, pants coming from his lips that sound more and more labored the closer his orgasm looms. Right before it hits, he’ll close his eyes and groan, the sound low and full of timber, making a shiver roll up your spine because it sounds so primal, like some sort of animal. And when he’s actually coming, he’ll groan again - except this time, it sounds vaguely like your name, the last syllable sounding upturned as the pleasure makes his mind scramble. His hips will slow down to nearly a stop when he’s coming, because he tends to get oversensitive really easily and he needs a moment to catch his breath. His eyes are closed the whole time, eyebrows scrunching together and looking a bit like it hurts, but the way his thighs tremble and the way his jaw goes slack tells you just how good you’ve made him feel. He prefers coming inside you, but as long as his cum gets inside of you somehow, whether that be in your cunt or down your throat, he doesn’t really mind.
His favorite way for you to touch him is when he’s on his back, and you’re perched with your cunt over his face and your mouth over his cock. He’s a fan of the classic 69 position, because while it isn’t the most sexually satisfying option, there’s something that he finds really endearing about the idea of pleasuring each other equally. He loves the feeling of your mouth on his cock, and the combination of that plus getting to taste your cute little pussy leaves him light headed and aroused enough to throw you down onto the bed. He likes to get on his back and give you a look, hoping you’ll understand what he wants without him having to articulate it, but if you don’t seem to get the message he’ll grab you and manhandle you on top of him, a hand gently pushing your face down to rub against his cock while his tongue slips between your folds. He’ll admit that the position is a little distracting, because it can be hard to focus on pleasing you when you’re doing such a good job of pleasing him, but he’s normally able to stave off his orgasm long enough to get you falling apart on top of him. He’ll aim for your clit and will sometimes bring a finger up to gently rub and curl against your walls, anything to get you shaking and moaning his name. (Plus, if he gets you wet enough, your slick will actually drip down onto his face - he fucking loves this, because it feels like you’re showering him with evidence of how well he’s touching you, coating his face with your slick because you want him to know that what he’s doing is enough.) He likes the way you gasp and struggle to stay consistent around him when he’s touching you like this, and feeling your fingers tremble as they stroke him and squeeze at his balls makes him sigh and buck his hips slightly. If he gets close, however, and feels like he can’t hold off any longer, his free hand will come down and hold your head in place while he thrusts up into your mouth, balls slapping against your nose as he fucks your face to his heart’s content. He just likes the intimacy of this position, and you’ll find yourself in it very often - especially towards the beginning of your ‘relationship’.
He’s just barely over five inches, but he’s pretty thick. It’s girthy, and when you first see it, the first thing you think of is how the hell he’s going to fit something that wide inside of you. It’s always a pink rosy color, even when he’s not hard, and although he’s embarrassed at first, he actually really likes having domestic moments with you where you see his cock both erect and flaccid - it makes him feel closer to you. (Plus, it normally only takes mere moments for it to go from soft to hard when you’re involved, which is what tends to happen nine times out of ten.) He doesn’t do a very good job of grooming himself, and takes pretty much no time to actually shave or trim or anything of the sort. It’s a bit of a mess down there, but he showers often so it all smells good and is clean. He doesn’t want you to shave or trim either - he firmly believes sex should be natural, and he wants to see you as you are, not as you present yourself. He’s decently sensitive, and while he’s got a bit of experience, he can get overwhelmed pretty easily when he’s inside you. He twitches a lot, especially once he’s settled between your walls - you can feel him moving inside you, bobbing and spasming as he gets closer to his orgasm, and sometimes his whole body shakes in time with them. It’s nice, actually, because it makes it easy to identify what kind of dirty talk gets to him - the moment you let any sort of praise slip past your tongue, he’s twitching and throbbing inside of you, acting as encouragement to get you saying more, to tell him that he feels good and that he’s gonna make me come ‘Hiro, please please please! (Begging normally gets him throbbing, too.)
He shoots, and there’s quite a bit of force behind the stream - it feels like the perfect amount of pressure in a shower, and he’ll always force himself to keep his eyes open so he can watch the way it spurts out of him and lands in ropes on your pretty body. His cum actually tastes surprisingly sweet, given how poor his diet is. It’s on the saltier side, but it’s nothing too outrageous. (You told him that once and he made some joke about how it would make the perfect replacement for that salt shaker that always seems to run out. You didn’t find the joke particularly funny, but the thought lingers in his mind for a while, and suddenly he can’t stop imagining the way you’d look actually eating his cum, not even in a sexual context. The thought makes him flush and have to clear his throat, but he can’t deny the allure.) This is great news for you, because Takahiro loves to come in your mouth. There’s something so dirty about seeing his cum dripping from the corners of your lips, down your chin, your pretty pink tongue coming out to lick it all up - and oh, if you hum or moan at the taste? He’ll melt, a few droplets of whatever remaining cum his body can scrounge up landing on your face without any warning. He’s a moaner, and while it embarrasses him, his voice always gets high when he gets close to coming, sounding less like moaning and more like whining and whimpering. He’ll always try to bury his face in whatever surface is closest by, though he tends to prefer your breasts or the small of your back, whichever is accessible. The moment he’s actually coming, though, he’ll always pull back to watch, because even being a fully grown adult man, he’s still in awe of how your body just seems to affect his, almost like you’re pulling the cum out of him with how hard he orgasms.
His favorite way for you to touch him is when you ride him. He’s not necessarily lazy in bed, but he likes to watch you and let you do most of the work until he needs to step in. He’ll lay back with his head on some pillows and let you straddle him, your cute tummy and pretty tits on display as you slowly slide down onto him. He likes when you grind a bit on him first, your folds rubbing and massaging against his length, and if you watch his tip you’ll see a copious amount of precum oozing out, showcasing his steadily growing desperation to get inside you. Once you slip him past your tight entrance and he bottoms out inside you, he’ll sigh and pinch at your hips, his voice cocky as he tells you to get on with it baby, wanna feel you bouncing on me like a good little slut. It’s uncharacteristic, with how most of his tendencies in the bedroom tend to air on the more submissive side, but the moment you’re actually moving? Well, all traces of cockiness and dominance are gone - he’s gripping onto your thighs for dear life, eyes fixated on the way your breasts bounce and jiggle, maybe even smacking against your ribcage if they’re big enough. He likes the way he’s able to get deeper inside you like this, the penetration going further and making you cry out his name because you just feel so damn full. He’ll stare and watch you, his cheeks bright red, unable to focus on anything except your body and the way his orgasm is drawing nearer and nearer, and eventually he’ll get close enough that he needs to take control. He’ll sit up and wrap his arms around your waist, face pressed against your chest and maybe even a nipple in his mouth as he moves you up and down like some glorified sex doll. He’ll control your body fully, his own hips snapping up to meet yours in a crazed chase of his orgasm, until finally it hits, and he’s moaning your name and his balls are pulsing against your ass as warm cum floods you. He likes the vulnerability of this position, the way he can be touching so much of you at once, and because he gets to see all of you, even the parts of you that you try to hide in other positions. (Like that cute stomach of yours or the fat of your thighs.) You just look sexy, and the way you pulse and clench down onto him like a fucking vice when you reach your own high only spurs him on, desperation for round two and three and four hitting him like a truck.
He’s a little under five inches, but he’s mean with it. He doesn’t have much experience, but he’s nursed a small porn addiction for most of his life, and although he knows porn isn’t realistic, he can’t help but fuck into you with reckless abandon every time he’s got you naked in front of him. He’s not too terribly thick, but he’s veiny, to the point where he almost looks like those veiny dildos you can get online. His tip is extremely sensitive - swiping your thumb across his slit or squeezing at the head makes him splutter, his cheeks turning bright red as his hips jerk forward. It’s easy to turn him on, because he’s really bad at hiding when he’s aroused. Seeing you in anything form fitting will make him feel hot and have him alternating between averting his eyes and staring at every inch of you, but the real nail in the coffin for him is when you touch him in falsely innocent ways. Place a palm to his chest and smile at him and he’s immediately hard, or run your hand over his hair and he’s practically panting, unable to stop imagining the way you’d grip at his hair and beg him for more when he’s got his face between your legs. He gets hard easily, but he’s normally able to make it go away pretty easily too, but his face stays this rich red color and he gets more skittish around you than normal, so you’ll be able to tell ninety percent of the time. He’s actually pretty meticulous about upkeep - he’s not clean shaven but the hair is very short, perfectly trimmed so that you have unrestricted access to everything below his belt. He does this both because it makes him feel cleaner, and also because he wants to be as enticing to you as possible so that you’ll be more inclined to touch him. He’d gotten drunk one night in his early twenties and decreed that he’d be getting his dick pierced, and a buddy had gotten it on video, and he wouldn’t let his pride be wounded, so now he’s got a Prince Albert piercing on his tip. It hurt like hell, but he really likes the way it feels inside you - it makes him more sensitive, he thinks, and you always seem to squirm when you feel the cold metal, the extra stimulation making you moan and clench even harder around him.
His cum is thick and there’s a lot of it. It doesn’t taste great, and the first time you tasted it you couldn’t help but grimace slightly. Kentarou noticed, and while he didn’t say anything about it, he’s been trying to alter his diet to include more foods he’s read help sweeten the taste of cum. He prefers to finish on your body rather than in you, but he’ll never not finish inside you if that’s what you want. Really, if you ask him to finish anywhere specific, he’ll do it in a heartbeat, excited that you want it. He just likes the way you look with it smeared across your skin - again, that porn addiction has left him with a bit of an objectification kink, and while he doesn’t view you as simply a toy for him to fuck, there’s something that quells his possessiveness towards you when he’s covering you with his seed. He tries to avoid coming in your mouth though, just because he doesn’t want to see you grimace like that again. When he’s fucking you, he doesn’t usually say much, but he isn’t super quiet - he grunts a lot, always sounding a little bit like he’s in pain, and he keeps his eyes tightly closed for much of it. He’ll mutter your name under his breath, too, but it’s quiet enough that unless his mouth is close to your ear you won’t be able to distinguish what he’s saying. But as he gets closer to coming, those grunts turn more into growls, and right as he’s on the edge, he’s literally growling your name, along with slurred fuck’s and yeah’s and too damn tight’s. He’s not too expressive, but if his orgasm is particularly powerful he’ll end up sinking his teeth into the skin of your shoulder - not enough to break the skin or hurt, but enough to leave a mark when he pulls away, and enough to muffle the moan that bubbles up in the back of his throat. His whole body tremors when he’s coming, everything from his fingertips to his toes trembling and shaking slightly, the force of his orgasm nearly blowing him away. It takes him a long time to actually finish coming once it starts, too - he comes so much that it just never seems to end, him emptying into you for easily twenty seconds before the last few drops finally come out.
His favorite way for you to touch him is when you take your time and just absolutely worship his cock. He’s never been embarrassed of his body or anything, but he likes the idea of being soft with you, and while he’s just a bit too awkward to take the time and worship your body, he likes when you do it to him. (It’s not that he doesn’t want to worship yours - he does, absolutely, more than you could ever understand. But putting himself into that position where you’re watching his every move and judging him, letting him explore and pleasure you and do whatever he wants with you makes him nervous, the pressure settling on his shoulders to do well making him chicken out at the last second. But when it’s you worshiping him, he can just sit back and watch, letting you do your magic until he’s eventually gasping your name and getting cum all over himself as you fist him and press kisses against his thighs.) It feels like such an intimate moment, and it helps convince him that you actually like him, that you’re actually returning the love he’s so frantically forcing onto you. He wants you to keep eye contact the whole time, looking up at him from your place on your knees, his own body seated in a chair with his legs spread so you have easier access. He wants you to kiss every inch of him, your soft lips pressing against his thigh, balls, cock, navel, everything you can reach. He wants you to pump slowly, telling him how warm he feels in your hands, how he’s so big and makes you feel so good, the compliments flowing off your tongue like sugar and making his face turn bright red. He wants you to suckle on his tip and lick along his slit, teasing him with not quite enough pressure, telling him how good it feels when he brushes against that certain spot inside you that makes you see stars. He wants you to squeeze and touch his balls, telling him how these always make you feel so full, they fill me up so well, Kentarou, I love it when you come in me. He just wants you to praise him and touch him all softly and slowly, showing him that you really love him. Give him hope that his one-sided feelings might be more reciprocated than he seems to think.
It’s solidly five inches, and curves very slightly to the left. He’s confident enough with it, but Yuutarou finds himself wishing he was just a bit longer, just a bit thicker, just a bit more. He spends a lot of time looking at himself in the mirror, and especially once his feelings for you form, he’s always idly wondering what you’d think of him. It’s a pale color, and when he gets hard it turns a gradient of pink down to his tip, where it’s flushed and always swollen within seconds of blood rushing south. He keeps himself clean shaven because he doesn’t want you to be grossed out when he eventually has you in front of him, naked and yearning for his touch. He wants everything to be clean and attractive and perfect, because the first time he gets to touch you and fuck you, everything has to go perfectly. He’s decently sensitive, and he especially likes it when you pay attention to his base. Gripping him there and idly squeezing while you talk to him will make him breathless and light headed, his voice strained and tight when you ask him if he’s wanting to fuck me? Do you want that, Yuutarou? Do you want to make me a mess on your cock? You’re so dirty when you talk to him like that, but it drives him crazy - and when you grip him tighter and tighter and tighter, it only furthers the feeling. He likes it, too, because your hand almost acts as a sort of cock ring, barring him from accidentally coming much too early - something that’s happened often when he was still left to his own devices with only the thought of you and his pillow to work with.
His cum is watery and there’s not a huge amount of it. He comes pretty easily, all things considered, but he has a decently short recovery time, and if the worst case scenario occurs (he comes before you), he’s immediately getting onto his stomach and diving between your legs, tongue eagerly working at your clit and his fingers slipping past your swollen folds to curl and rub at you until you’re moaning and clutching onto the pillow under your head. He’ll let himself calm down, and within five minutes he’s normally able to get hard again, and while this time he’ll likely be shooting a blank, he will keep fucking you until you come for him - and this time he’ll have his thumb working at your sensitive little clit the whole time, his pride out the window because he needs you to come, dammit. When he comes he makes this weird little half-shout half-groan, the sound loud and a little bit jarring. He tries to keep quiet for the most part during sex, because no matter how many times you try to tell him that you like his noises, he’s too embarrassed to freely let them out. Besides, he’d rather hear you anyways. But when he’s getting close, he does tend to start blabbering, his voice slurred and the words coming out so quickly that they’re hard to understand. He’s trying to get every thought out in those last few seconds before he comes, because he has all these compliments and sweet nothings that come to mind when he’s fucking you, but he’s too engrossed in the moment and nervous to actually say them, so he waits until the last moment and all you can hear is y’so tight ‘n good, ‘m gonna come in you, fuck let me come, y’so pretty when you’re drippin’ with me and fuck fuck fuck, here it comes take it take it take it-! He writhes when he comes, unable to stay still, his muscles flexing and relaxing over and over again, leaving him to shake on top of you and then promptly collapse onto you. He’s exhausted after he comes, but he’s still attentive to your needs, and even if he’s on the edge of passing out, he’ll make sure to get his fingers stuffed inside you and his lips on your nipples, absolutely anything to guarantee you’re feeling good.
His favorite way for you to touch him is when you take control. He’s always a little doubtful of his own abilities, nervous that he’ll do something that you don’t like, even though you aren’t the first girl he’s slept with. He’s just a bit paranoid that he’ll make a mistake and eliminate any form of attraction you feel for him, and so he likes it best when you take the wheel, pushing him onto his back and climbing on top of him, leaning down to kiss him and suck hickies into his neck. He likes when you grind on him, your hips moving against his in circles, your very thin panties (that he’d picked out, with a red face, the last time he’d visited a lingerie shop, having bought a few sets for you after learning your panty and bra size) rubbing up against his boxers, the navy material already stained a darker blue with a copious amount of precum. He wants you to move his hands for him, your grinding never stopping as you situate his large palms against your breasts (already bare, your - his - t-shirt haven’t been discarded across the room), squeezing over his hands to encourage him. He wants you to slowly sink down on him, before setting up a brutal pace, bouncing on top of him with reckless abandon while you smile down at him and hold eye contact. He wants you to move his hands to grope at your ass, while you reach behind you to play with his balls, squeezing lightly and feeling the way he tenses up and warbles your name. He wants you to suddenly switch your positioning, so that you’re facing away from him, your ass exposed to his prying eyes while you roll your hips again, the new angle making access to squeezing his thighs easier. He just wants you to manhandle him, really, because while he may be well over six feet tall and is finishing up his collegiate studies, he’s nothing more than putty in your hands, eager to do anything and everything you want.
He’s roughly five inches, with a moderate girth. Overall, he’s thoroughly average - tufts of brown, curly hair sit at his base and a vein or two decorates his shaft, which slims out a bit as it extends, ending in a round, mushroom-shaped tip that’s always covered by pretty, pink foreskin. He produces a lot of precum, to the point where once you get your hands on him, you’ll be surprised to feel that it’s almost like he’s already slicked himself up with lube. There’s just so much of it - but that’s because once Akira gets hard, he stays hard. No matter how hard he tries to distract himself or will away his erection, it takes at least fifteen minutes for it to go away. Even after he comes, he stays hard for a while - he gets oversensitive very easily, so he’ll try to swat your hand away if you reach for it when it’s still coming down after his release, but secretly he hopes you’ll reach for it again because he’ll begrudgingly let it happen the second time, content and pleased that you want to keep touching him. He stays hard, but actually takes him quite a bit to get hard - even with you, the woman he finds so sexually arousing and desirable that it makes him sick sometimes, he has to have a good mix of stimulation and thoughts to get him ready to go. Generally, if you want to get his cock swelling up and turning a deep pink color, kiss his neck and palm over his crotch, whispering his name in the most sultry voice you can manage, maybe even flicking even lightly biting his earlobe as you whisper into it. He’s not too sensitive, and because of this he tends to last a long time in bed, to the point where if he’s really concentrated and you’re in the right mood, he’ll get you to orgasm at least three times before he gets close. He doesn’t groom himself all that much, figuring that if you really have a problem with it you’ll let him know, and while he keeps everything clean and sanitary, sometimes you end up with a bit of hair in your mouth when you’re sucking him off.
He doesn’t produce a huge amount of cum, but it’s decent tasting, enough so that you genuinely don’t mind swallowing it. This is good news, because Akira really, really likes when you give him head. His favorite place to come is definitely your mouth, and the feeling of your lips and tongue against him are often the quickest way to get him to orgasm. He’s a fan of pushing himself as deeply into your mouth as he can and then releasing, so that all of it goes directly down your throat, because he likes the idea of his cum being in you, even more than just in your cunt. He’s also satisfied with pulling back and coming all over your face, because while it isn’t quite as satisfying as finishing in your mouth, there’s still something lewd and dirty about it, especially if you open your mouth and let your tongue loll out. He’s pretty quiet in bed, mostly just breathing hard or muttering commands under his breath - they’re never too harsh, just things like keep going or say that again. But when he comes, he takes this long, harsh inhale - it’s not quite a gasp, but it sounds too uneven and heavy to be a normal breath. He’s not one to moan too much naturally, but he tries to push down any sort of noise if possible because he doesn’t want to turn you off in case you don’t like it - even if you try to reassure him, he doesn’t really believe you, and he’ll still do the long-inhale-thing rather than let out the little whimper he really needs to. His whole body jerks when he comes, and this normally ends up lodging him even deeper into whatever hole he’s buried in, which adds extra stimulation to his already sensitive cock, making him hiss and grit his teeth. His face gets red as he gets close, too, and it’s a telltale sign that he’s feeling good when his cheeks start blooming pink, all the way down to his neck and over his collarbones. He gets sweaty, too, exertion and holding back any sounds taking a lot of effort, and often his bangs will get stuck to his forehead.
Akira’s favorite way for you to touch him is when you take his cock into your mouth. There’s something about the power dynamic that gets to him, because while he doesn’t inherently view himself as any better than you (he may not show it, but he worships the ground you walk on, if all the stalking and tedious collecting of your information are anything to consider), something just feels right when you’re suckling on him like that, your pretty eyes sparkling up at him through your lashes and tears pricking at your lash line every time you take him just a bit too far down your throat. There’s something endearing about the way that you take him so well, relaxing your throat and bobbing your head over and over, and he especially loves it when you get messy. He likes your spit to be everywhere, dripping down his shaft and onto his balls, dribbling down your chin, just getting everything wet and sticky. He likes the sight of you pulling back and panting hard, a thin strand of saliva and precum connecting his tip to your lip, the sight making him gulp and clutch onto the corner of the chair he’s seated in so tightly that his knuckles turn white. He likes the way your lips are so soft against him, how your tongue is wet and warm and so very dexterous, licking around his tip and dipping in against his slit. He just likes the way you give him so much attention when you’re using your mouth; it makes him feel special and pleased that all your time and effort is going into him, to please him and make him feel good. And if you were to reach down between your legs, your fingers playing with your clit while you bob your head and use your other hand to lightly grope at his balls? Well, hopefully you take getting your throat fucked as well as you do bobbing your head, because the mere sight will have him losing control and needing to fuck something, and your pretty little face is the nearest thing.
#yandere haikyuu#yandere oikawa#yandere iwaizumi#yandere matsukawa#yandere hanamaki#yandere kyoutani#yandere kindaichi#yandere kunimi#haikyuu smut#_haikyuu#_lee's headcannons#_tooru oikawa#_hajime iwaizumi#_issei matsukawa#_takahiro hanamaki#_kentarou kyoutani#_yuutarou kindaichi#_akira kunimi
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Hi. Can I request a big daddy elvis (late 70s) in which he and female reader are having an argument and he says something really mean so she heads into the bedroom and cries. He goes into the bedroom to apologize and then make out. Smut, detailed if you can and also some aftercare. Thanks
Tysm for the request! Enjoy it lovee! ♡
Kiss'n make it better
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Word count: 6.4k (quick) Summary: Bde grows stuffy as he witnesses you playing a card game with the guys, but not only that, you are in your delicate bed attire while you do it. Pairing: (1976)bd!elvis x afab!reader Warnings: 18+!, smut, p in v, elvis finally fully takes the reader, cherry cream pie (if you know what I mean...), kissing whilst bodily fluids are present on the mouth, tasting of bodily fluids, playing around with spit?oral fixation?, mention of elvis’ medications/pill use & dr. nick (im sorry), elvis’ standards for his women, toxicity, once again elvis being volatile, use of the word daddy, & of course fluff + baby talk!!
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AN: Hello there! I was off and on while writing this since I was eager to let it out soon bc I felt I’d left the anon hanging for too long so, certain areas may seem rushed/lack context but I did my best with the details! I hope it’s not a bother, but overall I enjoyed writing this little piece. Anywho, my dear anon I hope you are pleased with this! And to the rest of you loves, enjoy! ♡ (keep the requests coming!!😚)
- pls excuse any errors, your girl got tired half way through cleaning it up 🥹💋
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Elvis was, as of now, getting his day-by-day measurements of meds from Dr. Nick within the master bathroom in his room. In the meantime, you held up in his bed, twiddling your thumbs as you waited, you both had just woken up. He would always make sure to do it in a different room, given that you had eventually told him that you didn't enjoy seeing everything they put in him. When you witnessed firsthand how much his body had to ingest, you expressed your concern, but he waved you off, saying everything was always under control.
At some point, you stopped showing concern upfront to him because it had resulted in the first argument between the two of you, however, you'd unconsciously always be pinching away at your arm's flesh as you worried about him. You were still relatively new to his lifestyle, but you were gradually adapting.
Things were taking quite a while, so you began wandering around his room. You'd only been together for a few months now, so you were still trying to settle in. Elvis asked you to move in right away, and you soon found out he didn't like being left alone. As you moved around the room, you were still in your night slip. It was a look that he found especially appealing. You tip-toed barefoot to the door, peeking outside, and then back over to the closed bathroom door in the bedroom.
You heard them mumbling inside and decided, Why not go downstairs?
Making your entrance to the living room and taking in more glances of the house you hadn't paid much attention to before, your eyes shot up towards the voices in the kitchen. As you peered into the kitchen, you saw two of his guys sitting there chatting with some cards in their hands. They took notice of your presence and glanced over at you, their eyes lingering on your attire. Going quite unnoticed by you.
One clears his throat.
"Hey there, y/n, ya need anythin'?"
You shrug, not really knowing what you need or want, but feeling a bit restless.
"No, just bored waiting on El," you reply absentmindedly.
One of the guys chuckles and nudges the other, whispering something to him. You catch a snippet of their conversation and wonder if they're talking about you.
"What's so funny?" you ask, tilting your head in confusion.
The guys exchange glances before one of them speaks up, struggling to find the right words.
"Oh, nothin', just...you know...we were just talkin' 'bout how...um...how fashionable you look today."
You give them a skeptical look, not fully convinced by their compliment.
"Really? They're just my pajamas, the first thing I found in the closet last night," you admit with a sheepish shrug as you look down at your delicate garments.
They both burst into laughter, causing you to giggle along. The guys exchange knowing glances, struggling to contain their amusement at your naivety. Being new in Elvis' life and feeling a bit clueless around the guys sometimes—I mean, you'd never been surrounded by so many men before, so it was uncommon for you to catch their brash ways.
One of the guys begins talking, "Since you're bored, why don't ya join us? We're playin’ a card game."
You happily agree and take a seat at the table. They explain the rules to you as one of them shuffles the deck of cards. The game soon progresses, and the guys bring out their competitive sides, teasing each other and making playful taunts. Even though they might’ve been acting a little abruptly, it was clear that they were enjoying themselves. Amidst the banter, one of the guys turns to you with a mischievous grin.
"Hey, watch out, I wouldn't want ya to get too confused with all these cards. It might be a bit too much for a girl to handle," he says snarkily.
You titter and shake your head, clearly letting the comment go over and past your head.
"I can handle."
You say it humbly.
***
Elvis, grumbling his way downstairs to look where you'd wandered off, stops at the bottom of the stairway as he hears his precious girl's laughter from the kitchen. He stalks quietly towards the doorframe of the kitchen, there he sees you sitting pretty with his men. He scans your body until he gets to your bare, wriggling sooties that are dangled just above the ground in the chair. Elvis clenches his fists, feeling his irritation rise at the sight of you playing with the guys.
As he watches, he can't help but notice the unkempt yet alluring exterior you possess. Your tousled hair and streaked makeup from the night before only seem to enhance your beauty, giving you a tempting appeal that could captivate those around you. He had set certain expectations for you, and seeing you in this compromising situation with the guys confirms that you were not fulfilling them. He storms in, his footsteps echoing through the room as he confronts the scene before him.
"Darlin', you know bedder than to be gallivantin' 'round in your night attire with these fellas." He narrows his eyes, his southern accent thickening as he speaks.
Your head quickly turned to that familiar gruff voice, his appearance matching the roughness in his tone. There he stood, portly and only in a silk robe, a region of dark hair trailing down his navel from the open slit and his luscious sideburns framing his face. His noir hair, slightly disheveled from a restless night, completed the picture of a man who demanded attentiveness. As you caught his gaze, you could see a mix of disappointment and fret in his eyes. You instinctively straightened up, feeling a twinge of shame creeping into your conscience for some reason as you looked down at your attire and then back at him.
"Well, I thought it'd be okay. I mean, I do live here now. Shouldn't I be comfortable, El?" You voiced cunningly, not purposefully trying to provoke him but unable to resist the urge to justify yourself.
But there was an inimitable standard he held you to, one that required impeccability and grace.
"Goddammit!" He started.
"No man's woman should be 'round men in such whorey showin' garments. 'Specially not mah women!"
You blinked in surprise, taken aback by his strong reaction. The atmosphere in the room suddenly grew tense, and you could feel the weight of his disapproval pressing down on you.
His pride was unexpected for you.
As you searched for words to respond, his intense gaze never wavered, making you feel insecure and exposed.
"W-Well, the guys think otherwise!" You spoke aloud as your throat tightened. Well, at least you thought they didn't find your attire whorey—a word Elvis had introduced to you when he saw an outfit you picked out while shopping with him.
Elvis glared over at them, and they both quickly stood up from their positions, some cards falling off the table as they did so.
"That right?"
"N-No Ep, 'course not." They stood there longer than they should have.
"The hell y'all still doin' standin' here, for?! Go on an' do sumn then." Elvis spoke sternly as he pointed, his robe falling more open with his motion.
The guys hastily scampered away, not wanting to further incur Elvis' anger. You look at Elvis, noticing his neglected appearance and glazed eyes. Nervous, you place your cards down, your eyebrows puckering in disarray.
"What was that, Elvis?" you ask softly, but your voice is filled with slight perplexity.
"They didn't do anything." You squeaked.
"Didn't do anyhtin'." He scoffed under his breath. He shook his head and met your gaze again.
"Matter uh fact, the hell were you thinkin' wonderin' off?" His words were a bit slurred.
"Know all yur attention should be on me, 'n only me." Elvis' words hung in the air, heavy with a mix of fury and vulnerability.
You could sense an ache behind his harsh tone, and it struck a chord within you.
"Elvis." You delicately said his name, the concern evident in your voice.
But before you could continue, he raised his voice again, his drooping eyes glaring.
"Kept mah eyes off ya for just uh moment, den I find you playin' bimbo wit' 'em fellas."
Your heart sank as Elvis' words echoed in the room.
This wasn't your Elvis.
Your bottom lip quivered as you stood up from your seat, covering your face with one hand as you moved to leave the room.
"The hell are ya goin'." He says this as he tries to stop you, but you pull away forcefully and hastily walk upstairs.
Elvis hears your faint sniffle from the hallway, followed by the sound of a door slamming shut. He paced around, mumbling words to himself as he held his forehead, trying to make sense of what just happened.
It was clear that his head wasn't in the right place.
***
As Elvis continued to pace, he barely grasps the impact of his words and considers the hurt he may have caused.
"Baby," he muffles to himself as he looks around.
He rubs his eyes and begins to walk towards the staircase.
"Baby." He muffled again, as if he were whispering a plea into the empty space.
He reaches the top step and hesitates, unsure of whether to knock on the closed bedroom door or barge right in.
"B-Baby, a-a-ah wannas come in," he says gently in his gruff voice.
"W-Wanna come in." Elvis stands in front of the door, his voice quivering with desperation.
His babyish tone reveals the depth of his regret. Your ears perk up on the other side of the door, straining to catch every word. You can sense the turmoil in his voice, the vulnerability, and the longing.
It's a side of him you were weak for, and it tugs at your heartstrings.
Slowly, you rise from the bed, your footsteps barely audible as you make your way to the door. With a shaken hand, you turn the knob and open the door, revealing Elvis standing there, his eyes filled with a mix of hope and fear. He takes in your appearance—your tear stained cheeks, red, fuzzy nose, and the slight puffiness of your eyes. His face softens with concern, and without a word, he pulls you into a tight embrace. Your face buried into his exposed, hairy, warm torso through the opening of his robe.
Feverishly, he brings his large palms up to either side of your face and pulls your face upwards. Taking in your babyfaced features. Your damp lashes flutter as you meet his gaze.
"A-Ah made my little 'un cry." he mumbles as he grazes the pad of his thumb under your eye.
"Y-Ya know ah ain't meant what I said back dere," he continues, his voice filled with veracity.
"M-My temper… mah words came out wrong. A-Ah, wudnit wha I meant—", he trails off just before he wavers off, trying to focus his eyesight all of a sudden.
As his eyelids droop, a gentle sigh escapes his lips. You can see the drowsiness etched across his weathered face, the lines deepening in the dim light of the room.
It always tortured you when you saw him like this.
You noticed it was one of the many effects the pills had on him, before starting him up, they'd slow him down first.
Even with his abrupt weariness, you recognize that sincerity in his voice and the sorryness in his slumped eyes. You reached out and took his wrist, wrapping your fingers around it, offering a silent reassurance that you understood what he was trying to get out.
You cared deeply for him, so forgiving him always came in a hurry for you.
***
As you both stood there, the grogginess began to fade, and his eyes soon became more and more focused. He took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling with each inhale and exhale. He gave your cheek a gentle squeeze. His gaze lingered on your face as he continued to graze his thumb gently on your cheek.
"Let me m-make it up t-ta mah sweet girl, hmm." He says it so softly with that drawl of his.
As you listen to his soft voice, filled with tenderness and warmth, it becomes evident that he was speaking to you with the same affection one would reserve for a baby. One of his traits you had gotten used to and valued thoroughly. Your cheeks fill with warmth. He holds you by the waist, turning you over, and fully enters the bedroom with you. Shutting the door, he then leads you to the bed, helping you sit down on the edge. Elvis sits down beside you, and you feel the bed sink from his weight.
He turns your face over to him, and he places a hand on your cheek. He begins caressing your face ever so lightly, as if you were made of spun glass.
"Kiss'n make it better." He mumbles pouty-lippedly as his thumb runs over your lips.
You stare into his hollow eyes, nodding, as he begins to push his thumb into your small mouth. Politely opening your mouth for him, the taste of his skin lingers on your tongue as his thumb explores the contours of your mouth. You both hold each other's gaze, and you lightly suckle on it, watching his eyes light up at your action. He gently brings his thumb out, a string of saliva dribbling down your lip. Elvis smudges your saliva all around your soft pout, making your lips appear glossy, then brings his thumb up to his lips to suck off your slobber. As you both continue your intimate encounter, the air around you seems to grow heavier. His fingers then work their way down your torso, tracing your dainty body. With a famished mutter, he slides his hand beneath your slip, teasingly grazing over your soft, small chest, giving one of your nipples a tug. You can't help but whimper at his action.
And want grows between you, feeling a surge of heat run from your face down to your toes.
"C'mere, let ol’ daddy kiss ya," he leans in, capturing your lips in a fervent, persistent kiss.
The taste of him fills your palate as he slips his tongue inside your pretty mouth. You find yourself feeling fuzzy in the rush of the moment, willingly giving into his actions. His large hands begin gripping your small waist, pulling you closer as he deepens the kiss. His supple kisses had always been tender and gentle, but this one was different. It left you almost breathless. His touch was heavy, and you found yourself slipping in the heat of the moment. Your slip rises upwards at his action, revealing the pair of tiny matching ruffled shorts.
He breaks the kiss for a moment, his pillowy lips glistening. His eyes lock onto yours—a look of want. Elvis' hefty hand goes down to your upper thigh, and he grazes the fabric of your shorts.
"Take 'em off, 'ittle." He rasps quietly, the bass of his voice sending shivers down your spine.
Your breath hitches with a half-laugh. "Kay." You gently get off the bed and look over at him as he keenly stares at you with his still-glazed-over eyes.
A look you may never get used to.
You began pulling down at the hem of your waistband until the fabric hit the ground, being completely bare underneath.
While the length of your slip fell just enough to cover your most delicate parts, he whispered, "Lemme see her."
His voice is playful as he motions for you to come closer.
You take a step toward him. He reaches out and gently tugs at your hip, his thumb rubbing your hipbone, sending a muzzy feeling to your belly. With his other hand, he reaches over to the hem of the fabric, pulling it up—he throbs between his legs.
From his view, he could see all of you. Your narrow hips and thighs and the smallest patch of curls that covered your pussy. The little crease in the middle—so sweet, you were puffy, and sticky just from his kisses. You looked over at his garb—his robe now fully undone from all his movement, also nothing underneath. You took in as the section of his body hair went from his pudgy chest to his soft belly, which hung just barely over his waistline, and then turned into thick curls at his mound. His corpulent and hard, leaky cock presently standing tall just for you against his paunch. You gazed at the ridge of his pretty, purplish, rosy tip weep as it peeked from his foreskin.
Suddenly, you jolted as you felt his thumb at your swollen clit, a splotchy pink filling your cheeks. His touch was gentle yet firm, his fingers perfectly caressing your sensitive nub. You couldn't help but whimper, the lovely sound escaping your pursed lips as your hips instinctively bucked against his digit.
"Ain't nothin' more purdy than seein' you all pink 'n warmed up. Could spend all day thumbin' away at that ‘dorable clit uh yours." He babbled as he applied more pressure and quickened the pace of his movements.
Making you even more rosy.
You could feel the heat building between your legs, the ache for release becoming almost unbearable. Every swipe of his thumb seemed to bring you closer to the edge, pushing you towards the brink of ecstasy. Your back began to arch as you leaned into his touch, but just as you were almost there, he pulled his thumb away. You let out a frustrated whimper, desperately wanting him to continue, then you went to cup yourself until he swiftly stopped you.
"Dun cha get greedy on me now," he whispered, his voice coated with directness and a hint of humor.
You couldn't help but pout, your need for satisfaction overwhelmed your senses. You ached. He had never stopped on the brink of your release like this before. His hand left your trembling body, resulting in you feeling empty and yearning for more. You watched as he brought his thumb to his lips, tasting the remnants of your sweet desire, a sly smile playing on his lips. The rosiness in your cheeks seems to grow darker with his action.
"Ah can't have ya fallin' apart jus yet," he murmured, his voice low.
You looked at him doe-eyed as you clamped your legs, standing there.
"Little 'un." Elvis whispered as he reached out for a hand.
"Idenit time for ya to blossom," he continued as he pulled you closer, his warm breath hitting your cheek. "'ittle flower of yours needs ta bloom." Elvis gave you a nod as he spoke and guided you.
"Bloom," you repeated as you held his strong gaze, and he began helping you lay on the bed.
"Mhm, correct baby." He cooed as he helped you lie down.
When you finally understood what he had said, your heart seemed to race. Staring up at the mirror above you on the ceiling, you took in as you laid delicately on his silk bedding. You began recalling the past nights and days of glancing up at yourself while Elvis rutted against your tummy when he cuddled you until he came, or when he'd only do little more than barely let the tip of his cock pierce your tiny hole—but never more than that.
Now, he indicated that he wanted to take things further. You were both a little afraid and excited by it. Even so, you were genuinely more willing than ever. It made you rub your legs together thinking about it. You would constantly pester him for more, but he would tell you that it wasn't the right moment and that he knew when it would be. Thinking of his words from earlier, you thought maybe this would be his way of making it better after he'd lashed out. Maybe, he wanted to make it up to you by fully fulfilling your needs. You beamed at the thought.
Lost in your little mind, you were interrupted as you felt the bed sink next to you.
There he lay, still in his loose, silky garb, fully open, his hairy manliness laying solid against his belly while his balls were perfectly nestled below his shaft. You looked over at him as he began lying on his side to face you. His jawline was soft and his cheeks full, adding to the suppleness of his overall appearance. His overgrown sideburns adding to his rugged allure. The word ‘mesmerizing’ repeating in your head.
"Rest on yur side f'me, baby." You began turning over for him, but before you could, he stopped you—he saw the mild unease in your eyes.
His hand cradled the side of your cheek as your eyes stared into his. However, he couldn't help but smile, thinking your muddled face looked adorable.
"Hers dudden needs to be afraid." He whispered softly and patted your head now.
With each light pat on your head, his warmth enveloped you, making you feel comforted in his presence. You smiled back at him softly, it sort of surprised you when he caught it.
"H-Her knows." You whispered back in the same way he spoke to you.
It was really rubbing off on you, for sure.
He leaned in, placed a gentle kiss on your cheek, and then motioned for you to rest on your side. Such a baby, you thought as you gave his chubby face one last glance. As you shifted onto your side, he scooted in closer, so he was spooning you, his round stomach pressing into you. You felt the hardness of his length up against your lower back, feeling the warmth radiating off as it throbbed against the thin fabric of your slip. You couldn't deny the growing ache between your legs, yearning for his touch and for him to take control.
Elvis began lifting the hem of your garment, exposing your bare, pretty, round backside to him. His hand rested on the curve of your hip, his touch both firm and gentle. A shiver ran down your spine as his palm traced delicate patterns on your skin, sending those funny feelings through your body. You felt him move your leg a bit, so your pussy lips were peeking out between your thighs from his view. You felt him pulsing along your rear now, slick already forming at your petals. You couldn't help but arch your back, offering yourself to him completely. You heard him snicker behind you, bringing a blush to your cheeks. Elvis grabbed his thick shaft in one hand and brought it between your thighs, your slick and his precum mixing into one as he rubbed the ridge of his cock along your lips.
Eagerly, you try to slide down, so his tip pushes up towards your entrance.
"Careful, too big for yuh to take so fast," he warns as you bare down on his leaky tip.
You move back unconsciously, and the head of cock grazes at your swollen clit causing you to shudder.
Trying again, you huff, "Won't fit."
Elvis is quite amused by this, and he tittered as he leaned into your neck for a quick peck.
You feel his warm breath against your skin as he whispers, "Baby, needa take time t'stretch ya out properly."
He trails his fingers along your inner thighs, teasingly rubbing circles on your sensitive heat. Your body reacts, flushing with chills and impatience. You can feel yourself clenching at nothing. Elvis raises the leg you weren’t resting on with his other arm, and you blush at how vulnerable you seem in the pose. He moves the hand he was massaging you with toward your mouth. You understood what he meant, of course. Carefully, you used your hand to hold the back of his large one as you carefully spit into it. You watch as Elvis gruffly giggles at your compliance as you gaze up at the mirror, his eyes peeking over you as he watches his hand lower back down.
Bringing his hand back down to your throbbing core, now slick with both your juices and saliva. His fingers glide along your folds, applying just the right amount of pressure to make you gasp. As his thumb brushes against your clit, a shudder runs through your body, aching for more. You arch your back, silently begging for his touch to become more demanding, more intense. His finger begins to pry at your snug cunt, slipping inside with ease from all your wetness. You feel him begin to inch a second finger inside of you, stretching you further and filling you completely. The sensation is overwhelming, his fingers deeper than you were used to. He would only nag at your hole in the past. You whimper as he starts to move his fingers in and out—a slow and deliberate rhythm. Your hips instinctively press down on his hand, seeking more friction and more of his lengthy fingers. You can't help but squeal, the sound escaping your lips as he curls his fingers inside you, hitting a sweet spot that makes your whole body shiver. You try closing your legs, but he still holds one up. He feels your leg shift and hears your cute squeal. Elvis lets go, letting your leg rest down, with a snicker as he looks over at you with a mischievous grin. Soothing his palm up and down against your thigh, he leaned to kiss your upper arm.
"Ya kay, 'ittle?" he whispered in his southern drawl.
You nod, unable to form words, as the sensations overwhelm you.
Slowly, he removes his fingers from inside you, leaving you aching for more. But before you have a chance to say anything, Elvis is already positioning himself between your legs from behind. He catches a glimpse of your sweet little gaping hole that was dripping with want. He begins rubbing the ridge of his cock along your pussy, you feel his chest vibrate behind you from a low groan. His tip begins to ease in as he coos in your ear slowly. Without delay, he plunges inside you halfway, his lip curling at your tightness. You wail as he bucks his hips further, and you try to get away due to the harsh feeling of the big stretch. He carefully moves the arm he was resting on to go under your waist to hold you from your firm stomach as he hitches up the rest of your babydoll. Pulling you towards him, his gut pressing into you more.
Taking a glance at your clenched fists and shut eyes, he grumbles, "S'okay baby, breathe."
You gulp down and gasp, "'S't-too much."
"Needa bit more little 'un." He croons and brings his empty hand to swipe at your clit from the front in order to break you in with more ease.
With a final buck of his hips, he fills your sweet cunt completely, taking him all in. You cry out at the forceful pinch, your hand gripping at his hand that held you from your tummy. Elvis grunts loudly when you clench at his cock.
"M-Mah god, baby, let loose f'me. You'll break me off wit' all tha squeezin'." He blurts out, his voice strained with pleasure and urgency.
Your body trembles against his, and he continues to swipe at your tender nub, wanting to bring any type of pleasure to you right now. Elvis glanced up at your face, a tear dribbling down from the corner of yours. He leaned in, kissing it away. Gently opening your glossy eyes, you look up towards the mirror, taking in the way you were both at last bound. His robe was still hanging loosely on his body, and his hair was tousled as he pressed his face into your nape. As you gripped him with your hand, you felt him grab hold of it and start pulling it down to your heat. Placing it between your thighs, where you and him connected, you traced his weighty balls over with your small hand. Indicating he was practically balls deep inside your dear little hole.
"Yuh feel him inside ya." He whispered airily into your nape, the bass of his voice rumbling against your back.
You blushed at his words, feeling a mixture of shyness and alertness. You nodded, unable to find the words to respond, as you focused on the sensation of him filling you completely. His hand remained on yours, guiding your movements as you continued to explore the intimate connection between your bodies. Your digits now covered by both yours and his fluids. Elvis let his hand loose and moved it over to your waist, both of his arms now holding you in a spoon position. As the initial sting began to fade and pleasure took its place, you began moving, slowly your movements against him became more confident. Each motion became braver as desire continued to build between you both. Your whimpers got louder, and you felt the hairs on your nape stand as you heard a little huff come from Elvis behind you. His grip on your waist tightens slightly, his breath warm against your skin as he buries his face into the crook of your neck. Pulling himself out slightly and then bucking into you again, causing you to let out a high-pitched moan as you experienced the overwhelming sensation for the first time. A dance of pain and pleasure intertwined within you. You were sure a trickle of blood had stained the satin sheets beneath you both as you felt the warm wetness building between you two. You were too busy taking in the feeling of his hardness inside you, he noticed as he peeked up at the mirror and saw you lying there with your small mouth gaping and your hand buried between your thighs where he had left it.
"Touch yuh'self sweetheart." He grunted into your ear as he strained himself from moving his hips too harshly, his grip on your waist still firmly in his arms.
You complied, your fingers danced over your sensitive folds, slick with arousal, and maybe more, until they found your swollen clit. As you began to rub circles around it, your moans grew louder and more dire, echoing through the room. The mirror gave you a clear view of your own flushed face, your eyes filled with desire and vulnerability. The way he watched you, his dark eyes smoldering with lust, only fueled the fire burning within you. Every movement caused the robe to sway gently, revealing hints of his luscious curves beneath. As your fingers continued their rhythmic dance upon your clit, you couldn't help but imagine his hands—those strong and skilled hands—taking over. The thought of his touch, his fingers tracing the same patterns you were now creating, made your toes wriggle. Your breath hitched as you quivered as the warm, fuzzy feeling in your lower abdomen became more and more unbearable. His thrusts became more vigorous, matching the intensity building within you. The room was filled with the symphony of your moans mingling with his low grunts. As he maintained his relentless pace, you surrendered yourself completely to what your body was feeling. The tension in your body coiled tighter and tighter until, finally, with one strong thrust, you unraveled into a state of euphoria on his cock. Your body trembled with sheer bliss as he continued to move inside you, he watched as your pretty face contorted and your blush deepened.
"O-Oh god." You whined loudly, tightening around him, and the throbbing of his girthy cock became even more pronounced.
His grip on your hips tightened as he thrust into you with renewed vigor, looking for his own release. Each movement sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body, making you moan prettily but uncontrollably. He glared over at you, bringing one hand up to grasp your jaw, his thumb once again finding its way into your mouth.
"N-Not so loud baby. Ain't want no 'un else hearin' ya gone like this, only me." He spoke between each heavy breath, sounding imposing.
You nodded, unable to say any words.
His thumb pressed against your tongue, silencing your moans as he continued to pound into you relentlessly. The room was filled with the sound of skin pushing against skin, blending with your muffled cries of pleasure. You felt your ears grow hotter as his grunts turned into gruff whines, it made you wonder how such a man could make such pretty sounds. He pressed into you harder, the suppleness of his hair-filled belly now squished into your lower back. Elvis' grip on you toughens under you, his fingers digging into the skin of your tummy as he pulls you closer, seeking an even deeper connection. His other hand now filled with your drool. Watching as his lip was now curled, you couldn't tear your gaze away from his beautiful expression slipping into that o-face of his through the mirror. With one final thrust, he let out a garish whine, emptying himself inside of your now-tamed pussy, filling you completely with his essence. You couldn't help but muffle a sob and bite down on his thumb as you felt his scorching seed paint your walls.
He was still so far buried inside you as he let out heavy sighs. Elvis slowly began to withdraw his upper body from you, looking down at the slight space between his belly and your back, shifting his hips slowly to pull out, the base of his cock streaked with your pure blood. He paused as he felt your tongue pushing at his thumb and looked over, your eyes were watery.
He withdrew his large hand, you turned your head over to him, the position putting a little discomfort on your neck as he was still spooning you. You were in awe of his blushed face and matted, lush hair sticking to his forehead from all his sweat. Bringing the hand you still held between your thighs over to hold the side of his face, your eyes widened as you focused on the redness of your blood on your digits, which had now smudged a bit on his cheek. Elvis took in your expression and glanced over at your small hand against his cheek, he snickered. Grabbing ahold of it, he brought it over to his mouth, giving it a soft kiss and even a subtle lick. Your purity now smudged along his soft lips.
"A fine 'ittle flower 'as bloomed," he mumbled as he leaned his face into you.
Your heart raced as his lips pushed against yours gently. The taste of his kiss, a mixture of your blood and his own essence, sent warmth down your spine. He steadily pulled away, enjoying the fact that your lips were stained right along with his.
It left you brain-scattered and your hind eyes in a fuzzy state.
You were brought back when you felt him pulling his practically flaccid cock out of you. You winced as a dull ache shot through your body. Quickly sensing soreness, but a satisfied, weak smile tugged at the corners of your lips, knowing he'd finally gone completely with you. You stiffened as the warmth of his spew slowly oozed out of your snug, bruised hole.
Elvis' view was a delight, he thought, watching as the scarlet milky mess glazed your puffed-up pussy lips, running down your inner thigh. Slumbering on your back now, your babydoll still pushed up but remained covering your small chest.
But before you could turn to fully face him, you panicked as he stood up from the bed abruptly.
"E-Elvis," you sputtered out, even reaching your hand out for him.
He ignored your plea as he hurriedly walked towards the bathroom. His footsteps echoed in the silence, and you suddenly felt anxious. Moments later, he emerged with a damp towel in his hand. As he approached you, he saw the look on your face as you laid on your back.
"Hey, what's wit' da worried eyes baby," he asked gently while gently leaning over at you.
You still felt the pang of fret in your chest as Elvis leaned over you, his concern evident in his eyes.
"I-I just got scared. Thought you w-were leaving," you admitted, your voice shaky.
Elvis' expression softened, and he reached out to brush a strand of hair off your face.
"Aww, don' worry, sweetheart. Am here now, ain't goin' anywhere," he reassured you, his voice smooth and reassuring in his drawl.
His touch was comforting, and you felt yourself relax under his calm presence.
As his hand lingered on your cheek, he spoke again. "Ah's needs ta clean my little girl now, kay."
You nodded as Elvis stood in front of you while you lay splayed on the bed. He softly lifted your legs and began to gently wipe away the sticky residue, his touch sending shivers down your spine. His sunken eyes met yours briefly, a glimmer of tenderness, before he focused back on cleaning you up. You flinched as he swiped at your tender bud, and he couldn't help but grin. Finishing up, he tossed the used rag aside. Elvis had always been thorough in his caretaking when it came to you. As he gently began tugging your delicate top down to cover you, he paused and scrunched it up, revealing your small, supple chest and your soft pink meek nipples.
Leaning down to give both of your petite mounds delicate kisses, "Almost forgot 'bout 'em sweet lil' things," he muffled as he kissed your warm skin.
You found yourself giggling as you ran a hand through his tousled-up hair. One of the things he had made you become—a giggler.
He stood back up and fixed your babydoll fully now as he smiled at you.
"All done, my little 'un," he whispered softly, his voice filled with pride and adoration.
Collapsing beside you, his hand tenderly stroked your hair, whispering, "We'll get tha rest uh us cleaned up later."
He then continued as you moved over to fully face him, his robe now imperfectly tied. "Needa hold ya darlin’, ah know how emotional you puny things can be after experiencin' this kinda thing."
You snuggled closer to him with a giggle, feeling a sense of warmth and comfort in his embrace. The tubbiness of him being all the more cozy. As you both basked in each other, you felt the palm of his hand smooth down at your lower abdomen.
"Yuh sore?" His voice held that babyish tone.
"Bits," you mumbled as your cheek rested against him, feeling the rise and fall of his chest with each breath.
His hand continued to caress your belly, his touch gentle. “Love her lots,” he suddenly blurted and leaned in to give your forehead a kiss.
You gazed up at him, leaning in to kiss the fullness between his neck and chin. “Loves daddy lots too,” you whispered as you followed up with another kiss before you snuggled into him again.
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Got Ink? 💉 | Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd Imagine
Takes place before, during, and after the events of TGM
TGM masterlist
Characters & Pairings: Lt. Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x tattooed model!reader (romantic), dagger squad (platonic)
Content Warnings: fluff, profanity, mentions of pain as a result of tattoos. Slight suggestive content if you blink | Female!reader (she/her) | wc: 6k
Requested 📨 yes/no (rules for requests)
Premise: Art comes in many different forms. And when you technically think about it, your body is a canvas that can be become a mural if you find yourself drawn to the beauty that tattoos bring. For WSO Bob Floyd, he appreciated art in every form and loved how patterns and colors could create something beautiful. When his sister invites him to a party for her job shortly after returning from a special mission with the Navy, Bob meets a woman who was the perfect canvas he’d ever seen.
Note: I cannot tell you how much I loved doing this request. As soon as I got it I was like, ‘I’m gonna love this,’ especially as someone who has tattoos and wants to have a lot (I have at least twenty planned) this was feeding my love for tattoos. To the anon who sent this request I hope you like it, I really enjoyed writing this for you and I hope you’re okay with me choosing Bob since you said you wouldn’t mind if it was him or Jake—since I just did a Jake imagine I wanted to give Bob some love 🥹 Also I made it where reader was born in 1989 so if we were to go by Bob being born in 1993 like Lewis then she’d be about four years older since the events of TGM take place in 2019.
——————————
They often say that when you get your first tattoo it will either be the one and only time you subject yourself to the temporary pain of permanent ink…or it becomes one of many.
“It’s an addiction”, people defend, though they should probably look up the term addiction before using it in such context.
For many it’s the appreciation of art. Whether expressing it by becoming a tattoo artist or wanting to capture the beauty by etching it onto their skin like they are its own personal canvas.
Tattoos come in many different forms. There’s the traditional/old school style that is very recognizable with its bold black lines outlining bright colors. People in their old age, having grown up in the 60s and 70s, are the ones usually seen with these types of tattoos. Neo-traditional is not that far off from traditional, just the lines are not as bold. Delicateness is seen with fine line tattoos. In recent years it’s become popular amongst the younger generation—not just because they are pretty to look at but if one has a job that’s strict on policy then they can hide them better.
The oldest style would be the tribal tattoos. Beautiful elaborate patterns in various sizes, they represent the culture one comes from. Like fine line, watercolor tattoos have become a popular style—taking away the traditional black ink used as an outline so the colors have the spotlight. No color in a piece is blackwork and then there’s realism where it’s pretty much a picture that was printed onto the skin. Go on Pinterest and you’ll find multiple images of patchwork style where a collection of pieces put together can be any style already mentioned.
Japanese style, patch, geometric, black & gray, anime, portrait, the list goes on and on. So many ways to put a design on one’s body where it will remain until they go to the next life. Some people stick to pieces that represent sentimental value, like family or childhood nostalgia, others will simply see something they like and go, “I think it looks cool.”
When looking at Y/n’s tattoos, both aspects were seen in the array of artwork coating her body. After getting all the pieces that represented a person, place, or thing that impacted her life, Y/n started to get whatever the hell she wanted—not having an explanation for anything other than, “it looked badass so I got it. No value behind it, I just wanted it.”
Like many newly turned teenagers itching to get their first tattoo, Y/n was bold and got an intricate design on one of the most painful spots. Her reasoning was if she did it, then any other place in the future wouldn’t be as bad. All through college whenever asked what she wanted for her birthday or holidays the answer was always money to get a tattoo. An artist herself, she majored in drawing while attending Pratt Institute in Brooklyn, New York, also taking on an apprenticeship for a local tattoo artist. There she would get to work on her skills and tattoo people, progressing to doing tattoos on her legs and non-dominant arm. Anytime she traveled to a different state or country during the semester she studied abroad, Y/n got a new tattoo, wanting to have an array of styles from different artists on her body.
By the time she was 26, she had accumulated over 50 tattoos and still had room for more. From her neck down, artwork ranging from fine line to bold and traditional decorated her skin. Both her arms were half sleeves, ending just above her elbows with patchwork along her forearms and hands. The only place free of ink on Y/n was her face, though she did have her inner lip tattooed. If you asked her, it’d be the only place she regretted getting ink because it faded so quickly. But then again, she could get it redone if she really wanted to.
There were looks from people anytime she went out. Y/n loved dressing up in little black dresses and two piece sets to unapologetically show off her tattoos. Older, conservative couples or people who thought tattoos looked trashy on women would look down upon her. Getting hit on was normal, though she never gave the time of day and sending one look that read, ‘get lost’ had men scurry. Sometimes she'd be approached by teenagers asking about certain pieces, saying they wanted to get tattoos once they were of age and were looking for advice. Biker bars were a place she felt comfortable in, Y/n even taking a part-time job as a bartender so make some extra cash. People from all ages—well at least 21–were covered in tattoos like her.
In 2014, shortly after her 25th birthday, Y/n noticed an inbox notification in her instagram. She was used to getting messages on occasion. Being featured on the bar’s and tattoo parlors business instagram pages and accumulating her own following of potential clients had Y/n reach up to 80 thousand followers. The tattoo artist she worked for was very popular, having done work for celebrities and being featured in Inked Magazine.
Speaking of Inked Magazine…..
When Y/n clicked on the icon to open the message, the first thing she spotted was the blue checkmark. Then beside it was in bold lettering inkedmag. Coffee nearly spilled onto the floor when her grip faltered, gasping lightly at the name. She didn’t even realize the page was following her, confirming this by searching herself under their following and found her username staring back at her.
Heart pumping, Y/n opened the message. “Hi, Y/n, my name is Manda Williams and I’m a representative at Inked Magazine. We’re a fan of your profile and would love to work with you on our upcoming campaign. Would you be interested? Please email me at [email protected], I look forward to talking with you soon.”
Never did she think she’d become a model, let alone a tattoo model. She was taller than the average woman, standing at about 5’10 and strikingly beautiful. On countless occasions family members would say, “if you didn't have all that on you maybe you’d been discovered. You’ve got the height, the style, and high fashion look. Plus you’ll never get a well paying job with all those tattoos.” All they were met with was a roll of the eyes from the woman, annoyed with the constant nagging.
“I’m an artist,” she would defend. “I got accepted into one of the most prestigious art schools in the country and I work for a very renowned tattoo artist who has had Snoop Dogg, Angelina Jolie, and Lady Gaga as clients. Not to mention I work at a biker bar where the people there love me. Want me to go further?” the look on their face would read they didn’t but Y/n would put the nail in the coffin with, “Let me point out the fact I get paid more with both those jobs combined than you working a nine to five in your little office job. Also you should educate yourself. Tattoo models do exist.”
If only those family members could see her now. Posing on a motorcycle in nothing but a bra and booty shorts as the camera flashed in front of her.
“You’re a natural, Y/n,” the photographer complimented, making her flustered.
She adjusted her position, running a hand through her hair, “If you think so I trust your judgment.” Being in a studio felt very different than when she would set up her phone on a tripod in her apartment. It took many tries for her to capture the perfect angle, often deleting fifteen out of sixteen photos. Here with this guy calling out movements, “a little to the left,” “bring your hand up—just under your chin, perfect,” “Now act like you’re suntanning on the beach—tilt your head back as though the sun is in your face,” Y/n felt what it was like to be a model.
Not many tattooed individuals got the chance to sign with top agencies like Ford and IMG. Very few were recruited so it came as a big surprise when an agent from IMG Models contacted her following the release of Inked Magazine’s issue. When she took the job she thought it would be a small section in the magazine itself. Instead, she was on the cover.
“You don’t have an agent?” Bonnie’s tone was confused, staring back at Y/n from behind her desk as they sat in her office at the IMG headquarters. Bonnie had seen her cover on Inked, immediately going to Y/n’s instagram where she contacted her though the email listed on the tattoo parlors page. From there she asked the artist to bring a portfolio, which she was shocked to find out wasn’t much. “That was your first model job?”
Y/n shrugged, making a face like it was obvious, “Unless you count the dozens of comments I get on instagram beggin for my next post, yeah it was. I’m a bartender and tattoo artist, modeling wasn’t something I thought was in the cards.” She refrained from adding, “also didn’t think IMG scouted people like me.”
It was safe to say Y/n was unlike the typical runway model. Every now and then a high fashion show would hire a man with tattoos to walk for them. Very rare would you see a woman on the runway. For Y/n, that seemed to be the case in the beginning of her career. She did walk in the Marco Marco show that year which was the highlight of her life. Inked Magazine got so much response on her first feature that they made her their staple girl. Y/n worked with them the most on campaigns and even got to do a cover shoot with celebrities like Travis Barker and Kehlani. Those features got her a lot of recognition to the point she hit one million followers on instagram.
It wasn’t until Y/n went viral on the internet for her Sports Illustrated cover and becoming the first inked model to be featured in a Victoria Secret campaign that the top designers were booking her. Before long she was auditioning for brands during fashion week, securing Tom Ford, Calvin Klein, and Oscar de la Renta. Due to her tattoos being the star of the show, there were hardly any clothes on her save for tiny tops and skirts or dresses with intricate cutouts. She didn’t mind of course. After all, her tattoos were a part of her and the reason she was getting the opportunities of a lifetime.
Milan, Paris, London, New York. Fashion week was gonna have to get used to a new face in town.
Vogue, GQ, Vanity Fair, Inked. Pick up an issue and you’d find Y/n on at least one page, if not the cover.
Every now and then she’d get asked to appear in music videos for bands. The Weekend once asked her to be the cover art for one of his singles, bringing her more attention as "The Inked Beauty from Blinding Lights cover art.”
She appeared on the Inked Magazine YouTube channel several times. The most popular video being when she did a Q&A released shortly after walking in the last ever Victoria Secret Fashion Show in 2018, becoming the first inked model to walk the VS runway. Though it had low ratings, Y/n’s bit was plastered on every social media site, many tweeting: “the best thing VS could’ve done for their final show was put Y/n L/n in it. She carried the damn thing.”
“Hello, I’m Y/n L/n,” she smiled shyly at the camera, her agent Bonnie and publicist giving a thumbs up. “I’m a tattoo and high fashion model from New York City. You may recognize me from the cover of Inked Magazine, or discovered me through some of my other projects over the last couple years—hell maybe I even tattooed you at one point,” chuckling as she feels her nerves slowly evaporate. “Today I’m here with Inked Magazine, the owners of my heart and career, and I'm gonna answer some questions sent in by you guys about my tattoos and career.”
The producer gives a nod, “Ready, Y/n.”
“Let me hear them, sonny boy.”
“What was your first tattoo and at what age did you get it?”
Thankfully she was wearing a tube top beneath her jacket, removing the clothing to reveal the many inked designs on her chest, and stomach. Pointing to the one just below her ribs, Y/n says, “So this was my first one—as you can tell by how faded it is compared to the others. I got it when I was eighteenth birthday, literally wasted no time and my family is actually who inspired it.”
“As of right now, how many tattoos do you have?” The question has Y/n think for a moment, tilting her head back slightly.
“I counted just the other week and I think it was close to…. seventy,” nodding she adds, “yeah I think that’s right. I know I had fifty when Inked contacted me four years ago for my first feature. So I’ve added twenty to the collection since.” She made a mental note to count again when she got home that night.
“Do you have any tattoo regrets?”
A nervous chuckle escaped, “Fuck, uh….yes,” she looks down shamefully, but gives a shrug like, ‘I can explain.’ Lifting her head back up, Y/n takes her two index fingers and gently pulls down her bottom lip to reveal the messy smudged ink that once read, ‘baby girl’. The camera zoomed in and once they got a good shot of it Y/n let her lip fall back into place, “I don’t know if you were able to read that but when it was freshly done eight years ago it said,” she pulled a face showing she was too embarrassed to say it. “It said ‘baby girl.’ I got it when I was twenty on a dare and frankly I thought it would be hot, but it faded so quick—which,” she raised a finger, “that’s the one place I would say don’t get a tattoo. Even though it’s technically temporary…you’ll end up with a blob of ink like mine and it’s not cute.”
“Where were the most painful spots you got tattooed?” Immediately she lifted her arms to show she had ink on her armpits.
“These basterds right here,” the producer and crew laughed, nodding along with her. “You feel me? Yeah, I thought the ones on my stomach and ribs were bad. Those were a tickle compared to my armpits—-oh and my elbows. I think I actually broke a sweat when I got those done. It’s why I have yet to conquer my knees,” patting the covered area, Y/n shakes her head, “I don’t know If i can do it. But funny enough, these tiny little hearts on my palms,” Y/n flashed her palms up, the camera focusing on the two red lined hearts in the middle of each hand. “These hurt so bad. Thankfully I’m not putting anything else here because I strictly wanted the hearts, so I’m sparing myself.”
“What do they mean?” The producer asked, taking a pause from reading out the next question. The little smile Y/n gave was shy.
“I was told a lot growing up that I keep my heart in the palm of my hand,” while she explained Y/n kept glancing at the hearts, “kinda like the saying, ‘wearing your heart on your sleeve,’ but with me it’s literally in the palm of my hand. So I got these little hearts on my palms—that way when I hold someone’s hand, they can feel the love and care I have for them,” sending a wink to the camera she finishes with, “because my heart is in my palm.”
“Have you ever dated anyone with more tattoos than you?”
“Noooo,” she snorts. “Not because I’m not open to it—I’m very attracted to people with tattoos. And I have dated people with a lot…it just seems that anytime I do get into a serious relationship, I’m the one who has more than the other. And if you’re thinking about who I think you are—,” Y/n points directly to the camera, like a mother scolding her child, “the answer is no, he did not have more than me. Louis has thirty-three, I believe, since the last time he and I talked—which was,” she pauses to think, “I think around New Year’s.”
“Do you find yourself enjoying campaign shoots or runway shows more?”
“That’s hard,” Y/n pouts, causing her agent to chuckle since she knew the answer first hand. “Both are fun in their own way. I love being able to come into a studio or go out on sight and do a photo shoot—except in the fucking winter because I’m usually half naked freezing my ass off.” She pauses to laugh with the crew before continuing. “And then there's this feeling of ‘wow, that just happened,’ when I step off the runway. Getting to work with designers I’ve idolized since childhood and being the face of Mugler is a dream come true. If I had to choose…..it would be campaigns and photo shoots. There I can express myself more freely.”
“Do you see yourself still modeling in ten to twenty years time?”
There was a question she had to think about, taking a moment before answering. “I sure hope so. I love my job and definitely see myself continuing in the future. As long as my agent Bonnie and Inked don't get tired of me,” she laughs, winking at the woman who blows her a kiss. “But honestly I have experience as a tattoo artist so I could see myself opening my own parlor. I’d love to start my own blog or get other tattoo models into the industry. There’s a lot to think about what the future holds, but for right now I’m gonna have fun in the present.”
While home in New York when not booked, Y/n continued to work part-time at the tattoo parlor. She left the bar shortly after signing with IMG, but still visited whenever she could. There was even a picture of one of her Inked shoots framed above the bar.
With her new found fame the parlor had little to no openings each month. Regulars and new clients had to call in to reserve an appointment the second the schedule was dropped, which was sometimes weeks in advance. Several of the friends Y/n made in the modeling industry would get tattoos from her, though they always tended to go for the fine line style. More celebrities booked with her boss, adding Cardi B, Rihanna, and Louis Tomlinson to the list. The latter whom, as mentioned, Y/n actually got romantically linked to in mid 2017. It only lasted a few months, but the photo of the two on the Inked instagram was the most liked on their page.
Louis wasn’t the only high profiled person Y/n was involved with. Unfortunately the downside to fame meant her personal life was to be blasted on every inch of the internet. From starting her modeling career in 2014 to spring of 2019, she’d been spotted with actors Michael B. Jordan, Tom Felton, and fellow model Vladimir Ivanov. Like Louis, they only lasted a couple weeks to months—save for Vladimir which lasted almost over a year—and ended on good terms where they remained friends.
Frankly when it came to settling down Y/n hoped to find someone who was sweet and down to earth. Who was a hard worker—passionate about what they did for a living and wanting to share that with her. Someone who could make her laugh and feel like she was the only girl in the world. It was hard finding someone like when the spotlight follows you around. Y/n had been in the public eye going on six years and due to her connections with big named people she never seemed to catch a break when it came to romance.
All those qualities she desired in a life partner came to her in the form of the adorable weapons system officer she met at a party in November of 2019. The poor guy felt so out of place. From behind the bar Y/n could see him at the corner glancing around like he was searching for someone. Only getting a glimpse at the side of his face, she didn’t recognize him. The party had many from the fashion industry to celebrate Anna Wintour’s 70th birthday. What was ironic was Y/n took up the task of working the bar, kicking into her skills from when she was a bartender at a popular biker club in Manhattan. With her view she was able to see the entire floor as people entered.
The man she’d been eyeing must’ve come in when she was busy making the Hadid sisters their drinks. He wore a white dress shirt with some slacks and a matching blazer. His glasses reminded her of the popular style from the 80s. Come to think of it, they were probably the aviator style. He was tall, roughly six foot so she’d be eye level with him considering she was wearing two inch kitten heels.
Seeing his flustered demeanor and the fact he looked like he didn’t know what the hell he was doing there—not to mention he was handsome from what she could see, Y/n waltzed over, “May I get you anything?”
When he spun around she was met with the most gorgeous pair of blue eyes staring back at her. They blinked rapidly, like they were trying to decipher if she was in fact real. Then they snapped straight to her neck, following the ink of the exposed skin on display from her red latex mini dress—which his face mirrored the color of since he was making it quite known he was checking her out. He had a baby face to him, which was kinda adorable, and Y/n assumed he was maybe a year or two younger than her.
Offering a smile Y/n said, “So what will it be?”
“Huh?” He said confused before remembering what she initially asked before he got distracted. “Oh uh, just water please.” Still smiling, Y/n took a clean empty glass and filled it with ice before adding the water. Finishing it with a straw she placed it on a napkin in front of him.
“Will that be all?”
“Yes. Thank you,” he took the glass, glancing around briefly before letting his shoulders drop.
“You seem a bit out of place,” Y/n wiped down the countertop, catching his attention again. The man nervously laughed, adjusting his glasses.
“Is it that obvious?”
“A bit,” she teased, nodding her head to the crowd in front of them. “All these people walk around like they own the place. You’re the first person I’ve seen tonight who doesn’t seem to know what he’s doing. Are you here with someone?” Part of her was hoping he’d say a friend invited him, feeling a sudden rush of butterflies at the way he looked at her—like he couldn’t believe she was real.
“My sister dragged me along,” he confirms, the model mentally sighing in relief. But she couldn’t get her hopes too high. For all she knew he may have a partner back home. “I was visiting her this past week and she begged me to come. I told her it was a bad idea since I’m not….part of this crowd.”
“Ah,” she hums, biting back a grin at the way he described the industry. “Not a model or influencer, I take it?”
“Nooooo,” his laugh filled her stomach with butterflies. “Not at all. I don’t know how to work social media. Are you?”
Y/n refilled a guest's drink and handed over a beer to another, “I dabble here and there,” it was refreshing to meet someone who wasn’t familiar with her work. Usually at events like the one they were at she had people coming up to her already knowing who she was. “You’re probably like, ‘thought she was just a bartender,’” she giggled at the flustered look taking over him. “I was one before being discovered. I’m doing this for fun honestly—-and because Anna likes what I make her.”
His eyes went to her neck and collarbones, lingering on the ink. She assumed he’d never seen a model with so many tattoos before. “You can look,” she smirked, when he glanced away from being caught staring. “You’re only seeing a small portion of the canvas,” his eyes went wide at her words, making her giggle, “these babies are the reason I’m in this business.”
“You're a tattoo model?”
Y/n raises a brow at the surprise in his tone, “Didn’t know they existed, handsome?”
“No-no,” he quickly apologizes, “sorry I meant no offense. I knew there were models with a lot of tattoos. My sister told me that the industry was starting to expand by signing more people with them.” His words have Y/n intrigued. Obviously his sister was someone in the business, she wondered if she knew her.
“Is your sister one?”
“No, she’s an agent,” Y/n stops what she’s doing, towel long forgotten.
“For a modeling agency?”
“Yeah.”
“Which one?” Just as the question left her lips, Bonnie’s voice interrupted the two, “Bob, there you are! Oh good—,” she grins wide when she sees who he’s talking to, “You guys met!”
Snapping their heads toward each other, the two have the same expressions of, “wait what?”
Bonnie claps her hands, coming beside Bob at the bar and motioning between the two, “Y/n, this is my brother, Robert—the one I was telling you about last week,” mouth slightly agape, remembering the conversations the two had about Bonnie’s brother—in which the agent suggested setting up a date between the two—Y/n watches Bob react the same when Bonnie then says, “Bob, this is Y/n L/n. One of my clients at IMG—I know I’ve mentioned her before to you.”
Not knowing what to do at first, Y/n extends her hand to formally introduce herself, “So you must be the famous, Bob,” butterflies swarm her stomach again by the warmth of Bob’s hand when he goes to shake it. “I’m Y/n. So nice to finally meet you—Bonnie’s told me a lot about you.”
“W-wow,” Bob stutters, mentally hating himself when he does. “It’s really nice to meet you too, ma’am. I wasn’t expecting to meet you tonight, but now I see why Bonnie was so adamant I come.” A pointed look is thrown at Bonnie, who shrugs with a smile like she did no wrong.
“Well seeing as you two found each other without me, I’ll leave you both to it. Bob, let me know if you plan on riding with me back to the house or if you catch a ride. And Y/n I’ll see you bright and early Monday morning.” Winking, Bonnie takes the Cosmopolitan Y/n made for her and scurries off, leaving the two alone.
“I should’ve known,” Y/n laughs lightly, topping off Bob’s water. “Your sister has brought you up the past couple times she and I have gotten together,” lips curl into a smirk, “she wasn’t lying when she said you were a cutie.”
Bob turns red, smiling shyly, “when she told me about the inked beauty she worked with, she left out the fact you’re a walking piece of art.” His boldness impressed her, Y/n leaning closer to him against the bar top, resting her elbow on to so she could lean her head on her hand.
“How long are you gonna be in New York?”
“Till Wednesday,” part of her was disappointed that it was only four days away considering it was currently Saturday. But it was enough time for something to blossom.
“Tell me about yourself, Bob. The night’s early and I could listen to you talk for hours. Let’s see if Bonnie was psychic when she said we’d be quite the puzzle when put together.”
Ever heard of the type of couples where the girl radiates black cat energy and the guy is a literal golden retriever?
That was Y/n and Bob to a tee.
Out in public they stood out—even in a city like New York. Then when Y/n went to San Diego to meet his friends for the first time after four months together—which also resulted in her being stuck in California due to lockdown from the covid pandemic—it was like everyone couldn’t believe someone like Bob was with someone like Y/n.
He was a quiet, reserved naval officer and she was a sharp-tongued, world renowned tattoo model. They were the definition of the couple in high school you’d never expect would hit it off.
When Bob introduced Y/n to the squad, they instantly knew who she was, but had different ways of discovering her. Nat saw her walk in the VS Fashion show, Mickey and Reuben recognized her from The Weekend’s cover art, Javy remembered her from an episode of Ink Master she appeared on, Jake saw her on the cover of Sports Illustrated, and Bradley actually got a tattoo from Y/n when he was in NYC.
The entire period Y/n was in San Diego she grew close to the squad, even Maverick who had a lot of questions about her work and tattoos. “You think I’d look good with them at my age?” Y/n couldn’t help but laugh at the question, ensuring the Captain with a pat on the back.
“Some of the sexiest men I’ve met have been your age with ink more in than me,” she giggles when he goes red. “I worked at a biker bar in New York City. Believe me, Pete. Anyone can look good with some ink.”
Needless to say when it came time for Mav to get a tattoo, Y/n was the one doing it.
A lot of the squad ended up getting work done by her. Jake, Mickey and Rooster had a few already so they were familiar with the process. Nat only had one from a drunk night in college, which Y/n redid on her behalf since it had faded. Payback was a man who liked bold, meaningful tattoos so sometimes Y/n had her work cut out for her but she always came through.
“Yo is this gonna hurt bad,” Javy was practically sweating as Y/n removed the stencil from his shoulder. The design was a geometric sun about the size of an airpod case.
“It’ll sting, but this area generally isn’t too painful. If this was your bicep then it’d be a different story.”
Javy didn’t look convinced, turning to look at the guys while the stencil dried, “How was it for you guys?”
“Didn’t hurt at all for me,” Rooster shrugged, “my bicep was worse—like she said.”
“Yeah, you’ll be fine,” Payback waved a hand. “You see how tiny it is? It’ll be over before you know it.”
Going over the details once more to confirm the colors and shading, Y/n moved her chair closer after turning on the tv to an episode of Chopped. “You ready, Jav?”
“Ready,” he didn’t really sound like it but it was too late to back out. The buzz of the needle filled his ears and soon the stinging sensation they all said had him clutching his first.
“Try to relax, man” Bob sat on the chair next to Y/n, “being tense won’t help.”
After over a year of dating Bob had his fair share of tattoos. His were mostly small and easily hidden by his uniform. When they first got together, Bob loved learning about her tattoos. When she got them, why she did. If there were any meaning behind certain ones and if she planned to get more.
She was like a walking art gallery. So many colors and styles. Large and small. Y/n told him stories about almost every one—even if they were embarrassing like the inner lip tattoo.
“Biggest mistake,” she wiped a tear after she was done, the two laughing so hard. “Not only did it hurt but it faded not even a year after I got it. Now it looks so bad—I should get it redone but what’s the point when it will just end up looking the same.”
Bob hated when people would give her looks of disproval when they’d go out, usually from those who were unfamiliar with Y/n’s work. One time he nearly got into a bar fight with a older gentleman who thought it was okay to call Y/n a Jezebel. Rooster and Mickey had to hold him back, but Y/n simply looked at the guy and said, “Baby, I’m a fucking millionaire because of these bad boys. While you’re about to kick it the dust I’m gonna be on the cover of Vogue magazine next month. So eat shit and die already.” The man was left speechless, making her and the squad smirk in victory. The equally tatted bartender who knew of Y/n whistling and even given her a free round.
“That was so fucking hot,” Bob pulled her into a searing kiss when they left the bar moments later, Y/n smirking against his lips, “You think that was hot? I’m a mess under these pants from seeing you so worked up, baby. Let’s get the fuck out of here.”
Whenever he and Y/n would cuddle she’d trace the raised ink with a finger, Bob doing the same to hers and committing them to memory. He loved to kiss the ones on her neck and collarbones, but his favorite were the tiny hearts on the palms of her hands.
“What do these mean,” he asked one day during the early days of their relationship. They were laying out on the hammock, taking her hands to admire the collection of small tattoos along her fingers and wrists. He hadn't even realized she had any on the palms until he flipped them over. There his thumbs traced over the red outline of each heart.
“If you ask any person I’ve ever loved or cared for they’d tell you I carry my heart in the palm of my hand,” she flips her hands so they are holding Bob’s, the tattoos against his skin. “So when I hold people’s hands, they know a piece of my heart lies with them.” Letting her head fall back against his shoulder, Y/n shifts so her lips are against his jaw. “And I’m kinda hoping you’re the only one who gets to hold them from here on out.”
Anytime after that Bob would press a kiss to the hearts whenever he held her hands. Then when asked about what tattoo of Y/n’s was his favorite his answer was always, “the hearts.”
His family adored her. At first they were put off by her striking image but learned quickly Y/n was perfect for Bob. The children of his siblings loved taking washable markers to color in the tattoos Y/n had that were black and white. “Can I draw you a tattoo someday?” Little Emma asked shortly after the couple celebrated one year. She was a little artist who loved asking questions about the pretty pictures on Y/n.
“Of course, my love,” she promised. “Draw me whatever you desire and I shall get it done.”
The first fashion show Y/n booked after the pandemic Bob had front row seats. With his phone out he was the ultimate cheerleader, though he refrained from whistling or making noise so as to not embarrass the model, but would be in absolute awe when she strutted past him. It was the Tom Ford show, Y/n had walked out in a long black trench coat, coming to the end of the runway first before removing the item to reveal a silk dress underneath. It was spaghetti strapped with an open back, thigh slit to compliment her legs and the cameras loved it. She walked a few steps back up and turned to strike one last pose before making her exit.
Bob was mesmerized. It was the first time he’d seen her walk the runway and my God if he wasn’t already a simp he sure was then. A photographer captured his reaction to her discarding the coat and it went viral on Twitter.
@ inmyreputationera: if my man doesn’t look at me like @inkedbyY/n bf at NYFW then I don’t want it.
@ Inked✔️: We’re all Bob Floyd when @inkedbyY/n steps onto the runway.
When it came time to pick out her wedding dress Y/n was unsure of the route to go. It’d been five years the two were coming up on, one year of being engaged with the wedding to take place in North Island. A beach wedding in the late fall, Y/n wanted to look elegant and classy.
“Whatever you choose you’ll gonna look amazing, darling,” Bob kissed her head after she sighed when shuffling through bridal magazine pictures of dresses she’d cut out. “You know I love your tattoos—they are a part of you and I don’t want you feeling like you have to cover up for the sake of pictures. Baby, you’re one of the top models in the world. Like you told me when we first met, those babies are what got you discovered. Show them off.” Rubbing her shoulder exposed from her tank top, his lips pressed to the ink covering the skin. “But if you like this,” he pointed to the dress she kept going back to in her pile, it was elegant and pretty with neckline that fell just below her collarbones. “Then you should get it because you love it.”
The ceremony dress ended up being the one with a high neckline. It had open back with Y/n deciding on a her veil cascading down to the floor to become a small train rather than having the dress itself have it. Lace covered her arms, the ink peeking out from beneath to make the material stand out more due to the contrast.
She was stunning. An actual goddess that had Bob’s jaw drop the second his eyes landed on her. For the reception Y/n changed into a white two piece set that showed off her legs.
And you best believe she hired local tattoo artists to do a ‘spur of the moment’ tattoo booth at the party.
It didn’t take long for Inked Magazine to want to do a bridal shoot with Y/n. And if you look at it one way, it was a full circle moment. The issue marked ten years since they discovered Y/n and blessed her with the career of a lifetime that led her to meeting the love of her life.
All because she had a knack for getting ink.
……………..
TGM tag list: @avaleineandafryingpan @caitsymichelle13 @poppyalice2001 @cutelittlepotatofry @luckyladycreator2 @americaarse @elenavampire21 @back-tooo-black @wildellaa
#Spotify#bob floyd imagine#robert bob floyd fanfiction#robert floyd imagine#robert floyd x reader#bob floyd x reader#bob floyd x y/n#robert floyd#robert bob floyd#bob floyd#bob floyd fluff#top gun maverick fanfiction#top gun maverick imagine#top gun maverick#lewis pullman imagine#lewis pullman#tattoo!reader#tgm fluff#tgm imagine
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Hellooo. Can you please write a fic where Jobe goes to meet the reader’s family or she goes to meet his family? Or maybe both? Thank you.
*.·:·.✦ family ties ✦.·:·.*
pairing: jobe bellingham x female reader
summary: in which it’s time for Jobe and you to meet one another’s family
author's note: I liked the idea but couldn’t choose so I decided to create a context in order to do both. didn't know how to finish it. taking a little pause to start school, coming back once I'm organized
word count: 1319
You slipped on your pair of White Oreo Jordan 4s as low music played in the room. You finalized your outfit with beaded colorful bracelet and your apple watch. Before getting out of your room, you went to the full body mirror and checked yourself, readjusting your shirt and fixing the little cowlicks in your hair. Once you felt ready, you grabbed your phone and went down to the living room.
Downstairs, your mother walked back and forth between the kitchen and backyard. You went up to help her prep the table. As you did so, you received a message from your boyfriend, Jobe.
Jobe 🪐
We’re here in five
Y/N 🦋
Okay
Are you nervous?
Jobe 🪐
i wish i could disappear rn
you?
Y/N 🦋
I’m silently dying
Jobe 🪐
yeah, we’re ready
Y/N 🦋 liked this message
Seems like neither of you were ready for this moment.
You and Jobe had got together three months ago. It was all going smoothly, the two of you enjoying the beginning of your relationship. But some way your parents found ou about it and immediately wished to meet their daughter’s boyfriend. After a conversation between you two, Jobe agreed to tell his parents about you so that the two families could meet. Which led to now. The Bellinghams were on the way to have a lunch with your family. At first, it didn’t affect you that much but the closer they were to meet, the more nervous you felt. Unfortunately for you, you did not have time to calm down as you watched their family car park in front of your house.
You watched as Jude, Jobe and his parents walked towards the door before ringing the door.
“Go open the door” Your mom raised her voice getting you out of your thoughts.
Without noticing, you had zoned out and stayed immobile. You hurried to the door, taking a deep breath before opening to the wide smiles of Jobe’s parents. You gave one back, translating your shyness, a small voice escaping your mouth greeting them. You then let them in, individually addressing them until it was Jobe’s turn.
It was very uncomfortable to be watched by your relatives while interacting. You two weren’t big on PDA, especially since it’s still the beginning. As if your brains connected, Jobe bent down to give you a small hug, a hand resting on your back as you had your arm around his neck, leaving a quick kiss on his neck when nobody noticed.
Except for Jude. He sent him a knowing look as if to signal he had seen the intimate moment. It only resulted in earning a glare from his younger brother.
“So you must be Jobe ?” Your dad came out of nowhere, standing straight making you chuckle a bit. He was not frightening at all, just loved to stress his daughter’s boyfriends.
Jobe only nodded not daring to say anything out loud. You could only empathise with him since his mom made her feel the same way.
The conversation between your dad and him was very awkward for you and Jobe. Luckily, the rest of the people were talking with your mom and not paying attention.
Once the introduction ended, you all went to the dining room to enjoy the food your mom made.
-----------------------------------------
It had been almost two hours since the Bellinghams were at your house. Your mom and Denise seemed to get along well. They asked questions about you or Jobe at times but fortunately for you, the whole lunch was not focused on your couple. Until now.
“Oh Y/N, you didn’t tell me how you guys met?”
Both of your eyes widened as you didn’t think they would acknowledge you at all.
“Well, we were at the activity centre together back then and we found ourselves in a groupchat” You simply explained, mentioning your old activity centre hoping that the conversation would shift away to another subject.
“Oh you were at the centre too, Jobe. You remembered her?” Your mom kept on asking questions now to Jobe.
“Yeah” He paused to finish swallowing his food. “She was the only girl that played cars with us boys”
The whole table shared a little laugh now talking about the two of you as kids. The parents took turns into revealing embarrassing moments of your childhoods as you two just laughed, both out of mockery and embarrassment.
“I remember once Jobe was chased by a goose”
You tried to contain the loud laugh that attempted to escape your mouth as Jobe’s mouth dropped.
“Mom we agreed to not talk about this day” Jobe whined as you laughed at him.
“I don’t know why you’re laughing Y/N because it happened to you too” Your dad spoke loudly making sure to be heard by the entire table.
It was now Jobe’s turn to laugh at you as you sent a mean stare to your dad. You were very good at clapping back but your dad was the ultimate champion at violating. He taught you everything you needed to know. Even though you were accustomed to this, it still stung a lot.
You tried to keep a mean facial expression but the smile on your dad’s face only made you smile too.
The rest of the lunch, you talked and got to know each other, the happy atmosphere never leaving.
-----------------------------------------
After lunch time, Denise went to you in order to have a conversation. Your nervousness from earlier came back in a second, having you bite your cheek repeatedly.
You two sat down outside on the outdoor sofa. She could tell you were nervous as she began talking by, firstly reassuring you.
“I’m not here to threaten you, don’t worry” She spoke as she put her hand on your thigh to calm you down. “There’s nothing that made rubbed me the wrong way about you. You’re nice, funny and look gorgeous. So me talking to you has nothing to do with complaining about you. As long as you stay respectful and don’t hurt my son I’m good. Other than that, you’re welcome in my house with my family, okay?”
Throughout all the time, you could only nod and agree, each word making you more comfortable. Once she finished, you let out a small “Yes” before she pulled you into a warm hug.
While you spoke to Denise, your mom went to talk to Jobe, bringing him to the porch. Jobe instantly went stiff, not knowing what to expect from her.
“Don’t be nervous, I don’t bite” Your mom joked as Jobe tried to chill. “When I found out about you and Y/N, I was a bit skeptical. But her excitement every she went to see you and her coming back with a smile on her face took all my doubts away. She’s smart and knows what she’s doing, and I trust her to do the right choices. Now I need to trust you.” Her tone felt more serious at the last sentence.
“All I’m asking you” She continued “is to promise me to keep that smile on her face, okay?”
“Yes, ma’am” He spoke as confidently as he could at the moment.
She repeated to make sure he stood on his answer, which he did. Once your mom felt like she said what she had to say, they got up and got back inside. He found you seated on the stairs and joined you, putting his arm around your shoulder.
“She wasn’t to harsh with you?” You asked, scared of what your mother could have said.
“Nah, at all. You?”
“No, your mom is so nice”
He nodded and sighed. Meeting each other’s family is a big step in your relationship, and you both were very happy to have overcome it. Having the trust of your relatives meant everything. You now knew you could grow freely in your relationship.
like and repost (hope you enjoyed it besties)
masterlist for more
#written by bl00dst41ned#black writer#football blurb#football imagine#football x reader#jobe bellingham#jobe bellingham x reader#jobe bellingham blurb#jobe bellingham imagine#requested by anon#requests closed
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Do you have any headcanons about how Vetinari ended up taking power?
Actually yes I do!
I wrote a fic about his first day in power that vaguely referenced this and while I don't have like, a fully fleshed out story, there are a few bits and pieces that I sort of bodged together from things in the books and what I personally find entertaining about him as a character:
There's a bit in Soul Music which says that there was a rat plague in Ankh-Morpork shortly before Vetinari came to power, and that his solution was "tax the rat farms". It's unclear in context whether this means he suggested it at the end of Snapcase's time in power or if it was one of the first things he did after he became Patrician. I've just gone ahead and assumed that the rat plague was the last straw for Snapcase and that actually having a good suggestion was one of the reasons Vetinari was in people's minds as a replacement
That then leads us to ask, well, what on earth was he doing there? He's been in power a fair while even by Guards Guards but chronologically must still only be in his early 40s by then, to have been in his late teens in the 30-years-ago bits of Night Watch (and he can't be older than that, because it's made fairly clear that he's in the Guild equivalent of secondary school at that time, and Vimes knows that the two of them are approximately the same age). Given his canonically hilariously long list of postgrad qualifications, he probably went straight from Assassins Guild grad school to the Oblong Office, more or less. Conclusion: he was the fucking INTERN. (or possibly working as a clerk, but calling him the intern is at least 500% funnier)
Given the running joke about him being this weird posh dude who doesn't seem like a threat until you remember where he was educated, I would imagine that his whole "ah capital jolly good here I go getting slang wrong again" bullshit started here. We know that among the Ankh-Morpork elite, pretending to be stupider than you really are is something that can both keep you safe and help you get away with a lot, because we see Vetinari and Vimes and Sybil do it. So this is where he got his practice. Bertie Wooster the FUCK out of your working day, quietly get on with the things that need to be done while nobody's looking, and nobody will realise because they just think you're Madam's weird nephew with the shit beard and the puppy
So, bearing all that in mind, picture this:
Snapcase is dead. The important people (at least, the people who think themselves important) converge on the palace. In a small room off the Oblong Office is a young man steadily working through a large pile of paperwork. Oh, yes, that's Madam's nephew, you know... Havelock, isn't it? They ask if he knows what's happened, and he says no, he has no idea, he's just been working his way through all these regulations, and gosh, they really are very dull. And... well... nobody else is here. And nobody else seems to understand the filing system, or the rest of the staff, or anything really. But he does.
This guy's had a few good ideas when he's been doing the minutes at various meetings, that makes him a plausible candidate surely? And he's so young, so he's going to need a lot of guidance from helpful, experienced folks, right? How useful. He's just smart enough not to be an obvious puppet. Very handy indeed.
And the cream of Ankh-Morpork society being what they are (truly the cream- rich and thick) they don't realise until it's far too late that this lanky goth weirdo they'd thought would do their bidding knows everything about everyone and he's been quietly furious about the result of the Glorious 25th for over a decade. And, whoops, they'd somehow forgotten that he didn't spend all of that time on Guild postgraduate courses doing resits. Oh dear. And now he's their boss.
#patricianblogging#i have wanted to go into detail about this for AGES thank you for giving me an excuse
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Etho Session 3 Liveblog:
slkdfjklsdjfsl 18 seconds in and I'm already losing it.
Etho: "I'm here with Cleo! :) Cleo's looking at the sky... because Cleo likes the sky. So blue, so pretty. She might've got hit by a car and now her neck is broken."
Etho bemoaning the lack of water, then turning around like "Oh, here it is. I'll just make an infinite source block."
Etho following Bdubs around and dunking water on him.
Bdubs: "??? Why are you trying to wash me??"
This is especially funny in the context of Bdubs in Session 2 accidentally relapsing into the roleplay of being Cleo and Etho's kid before Cleo reminded him that was a different series slkdjf.
sldkfj Bdubs peering out the window at the needy boys like "Oh, that's sweet, they've got BigB... I really wanted them to find another."
?? Etho is my 3rd POV. I've seen Tango and Grian so far and this is my first close-up on Impulse. What's that man doing with his skin? Did he kintsuji his face?
slkdjf Etho getting three hearts from the Heart Foundation. His first two decisions are to run to Cleo and tell them they need to bring their enchanting table over to share, then to give Cleo his heart.
Smart move by Etho to approach Pearl and offer to help her when his job is to attempt sabotage.
Me watching Martyn accuse Pearl, having already seen Tango's POV and knowing they did a lot of backpedaling and back and forth and checking the footage to see if Martyn had already used his one accusation of the session, and knowing the result was that they do let Martyn fail Tango: "Uh-oh."
Me watching Jimmy do something similar with Mumbo because I'm pretty sure he also made an attempt to call Tango out: "Uh-oh."
All fun and games in the end, though. Gotta be human and make mistakes; keeps you humble.
Oh now I'm putting together the pieces, Etho's going to confess his love to Joel in the end in an attempt to make people believe he has the same task as Scott... Although he did re-roll his "make someone believe you have the same" task, so hmm...
[Watching a few more minutes] - Gotcha, Grian cut the part out of his video where he told Etho to go say "I love you" to someone.
slksjdf so let me get this straight, Etho was given the job of saying "I love you" to someone with the attempt to make them say it back, knowing full well that Scott successfully got Cleo to say "I love you" back to him, and Etho STILL chooses to pursue Joel and say "I love you" to him instead of Cleo, his basing partner this season. Incredible. No notes. Long live the Boat Boy goofballs.
?? Again Jimmy accuses Etho of a task, so maybe Yellows are just allowed to guess until they get it right? In which case both Martyn and Jimmy are in the clear. I may have misunderstood the rules; will have to watch more POVs to be sure.
Etho's so good at throwing people off his trail with false tasks. He spends the session dumping water buckets on people and building walls to separate people for no reason.
Mumbo calls him "washed up" and Etho immediately dumps the water bucket on himself slkdjf. GG.
#EthosLab#Cletho#trafficblr#Secret Life#Secret Life spoilers#Secret Life SMP spoilers#traffic life smp#mcyt#traffic spoilers#ZombieCleo#Boat Boys#Riddle watches Traffic#BdoubleO100#Martyn InTheLittleWood#The Clockers#Heart Foundation#Jimmy Solidarity#Joel Smallishbeans#Last liveblog for today I think <3
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Hi!
What do you think about Lilith conjunct sun in synastry? Man being the Lilith and basically he doesn't have other planet in the same sign.
Or if you don't use asteroids, what do you think about a man with pisces sun, moon in Taurus (I don't have a birth time so there's a small chance he may fall in the first three degrees of gemini, but I'm almost sure he's definately a Taurus moon), Mercury in Aquarius, Venus in Pisces and Mars in gemini? Like an overall impression, because to me is like an world salad describing some kind of Tortured artist TM
For Lilith contacts, when the man is Lilith and the woman is the planet person, I’ve noticed that Lilith can develop some sort of fascination or appreciation for the theme of the planet it touches. I’d also like to know which house the two fall in for more context on how it might manifest!
In negative scenarios, I feel like it points to some fetishization of that planet’s quality, or a desire to exploit those qualities in some sense (I personally noticed this as the planet person when a man’s Lilith squared my moon, for example). Again, the houses in which the two fall in can provide more context!
For Lilith conjunct Sun, Lilith can really enjoy how the sun person expresses themselves and shines. They might find you to be “different from the rest,” and that adds to the sun’s person perceived sex appeal in the eyes of Lilith. They can feel like you truly have your own authentic identity. They can really like your confidence, and encourage you to put it on full display like a peacock. Since they spend time admiring your confidence and authenticity, they are very likely to notice when you’re not being your true self in a given situation or around certain people— which might breed a feeling of self-consciousness in the sun who might feel overly perceived by Lilith. Lilith can just give you a look and you might feel called out. I feel like Lilith can find the Sun person to be beautiful, but has a weird way of letting the Sun know they admire them. They might just assume you should know that by the way they look at you. They might enjoy getting you flustered and shy, because others might not get that reaction out of you. You might feel more shy while talking to them, and might not understand why you feel so “soft” or “weak” when you talk to them! However, I think they want you to maintain that confidence you had before they got you, because it’s so alluring to them.
I feel like the moment they catch this, they are aware of the power they have over you. By your ego diminishing in front of them and because of them, theirs feels a bit more inflated as a result. They feel more confident in their own seductive powers because of how you react to them. You might make them feel more invigorated and secure in his sexual energy. If things progress to a physical point, Lilith will be putting on the show for the sun, now using that as his opportunity to be the peacock in this dynamic. Lilith might love the darkness the sun naturally exudes, and wants to embody that together and take it to a whole new intensity that seems so far removed from the original vibe they picked up from the sun.
I think Lilith can project a bit onto the planet person and wants to form them into the idea they had of them in their head, so they can fully embody the aesthetic type of taboo dream girl they want by their side to frame or reinforce their own identity.
I feel like Lilith might have played it cool in the past, but will soon be introduced to feelings of jealousy and possessiveness once they get the sun person. They were drawn in my the sun’s radiance, but now that they caught feelings, hate that other people can feel that and want the sun person the same way Lilith does.
I feel like the sun person might have fun dressing in a way that is desirable to Lilith, because once Lilith is comfortable providing praise and compliments, it’s always exactly what the sun needs to hear to feel sexier.
You both might encourage one another to be your freest selves, even if it draws in negative attention or feedback.
—
Your description of “tortured artist TM” is so funny, but I feel like it’s accurate as hell 😭 that basically sums it up, for real!
I feel like he definitely has a soft side, but finds it hard to vocalize until he feels a real camaraderie with someone. He has good taste, and appreciates good style in someone. He likes when someone has good manners. He might gate-keep the full extent of his humor, but once you get to know him you’ll see that he’s probably HILARIOUS. He would really appreciate someone who listens to his interests, and values his intellect. He would probably appreciate dates to art museums, eclectic restaurants or hole-in-the-walls, dates to farmers markets and thrift events, or even book fairs. I feel like he could be interested in philosophy, and appreciates more complex conversations with people he genuinely wants to be close with. He would love someone who he can listen to music with or share music with, someone to watch and dissect films with, and someone who makes him feel safe to show his weird side!
#lilith#Lilith synastry#sun conjunct Lilith synastry#astroblr#astrology#astrology observations#relationship astrology#composite observations#sexstrology#astro notes#astrology blog#synastry
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(Shakes you) otto you've GOTTA tell me more about the freelance mystery solvers I GOTTA KNOW ABOUT EM WHAT ARE THEY DOIN !!! I love your designs sm btw your SO REAL FOR THIS AHH
HEEHEE ohhh ok cracks my knuckles. Im gonna be writing this right before passing Out for the night so apologies in advance if this isn’t very comprehensible but i will GLADLY explain the funny freelance mystery solvers o7
EDIT HI This got so long im putting it under a readmore KGJFNGKJSGK.
Also! I didn’t draw anything to go with this ask because i told myself id give my hand a break, but I do actually have some recent doodles of Vern and Kitty i was doing in between the lineup so I’ll put them here for a little display ^_^ theyre not in context of anything im about to mention, just some dynamic exploration stuff that are their own whole other rambles
Ok! Readmore time! Paragraphs of nonsense! For your viewing pleasure!
So!! Vernon and Kitty are both employed by True Psychic Tales independently of each other when theyre older. Vernon is an illustrator/interviewer for the graphic novel division and Kitty works in special effects makeup for the more-recent live action film division! They don’t end up crossing paths for a while until being assigned to work together to research stuff for an up-and-coming TPT film project or smth. They become work buddies after reconnecting (though they choose to mostly ignore the fact that they knew each other as kids due to How They Were back then. They’re both very embarrassed about it for numerous reasons)
It becomes commonplace for them to help each other out with projects, and eventually through their research (fact-checking and digging through old psychonauts mission archives) they start to come across old psychonauts files of unfinished or ‘suspicious’ looking missions, ones that normally didnt get the green light to be told in graphic novel form due to the fact that they were inconclusive and, as a result, don’t make for good stories.
Kitty and Vernon end up sort of… picking up on these old missions in their spare time. It’s not psychonauts work but its also not not psychonauts work, you know? They team up to try and work out what lead to dead ends in missions and cross-referencing possibly related stories with other stories, and go out into the field to try and get answers. I picture it a lot in my brain as an episodic mystery series vis a vis scooby doo. They pick their archived mission log of the week to check out, go out, get some answers, and get a conclusion to bring back to TPT and a new graphic novel is made of the story they were able to uncover! With some more overarching plots where they get a little in over their heads here and there.
Franke’s got a bit less of a fleshed out role in all of this atm, mostly because i havent thought of him as much as the other two? My current vague-idea i have is that she and kitty had a falling out during their teen years, and Franke calls Kitty and Vernon falsely claiming to have a lead on a mystery theyve been working on, in order to try and reconnect with Kitty after she stopped talking to him. He has to come clean when whatever she leads them to actually ends up being a real psychic issue, and she has to explain that she doesn’t know what’s going on because she hadn’t actually called in about anything legit.
Franke does end up being a good help despite technically being the reason they got into deep shit in the first place, and Vernon’s probably the one who asks her to stick around (Kitty isn’t against it, but definitely isn’t really all too welcoming about it either.) They definitely have a whole thing where they all get closer and Kitty and Franke get to mend fences (a character arc along the lines of franke realizing he was kind of a hardass who wanted to make up without actually accepting any faults, and some other super impressive character arcs along the way im sure.) And all three of them continue to go on mystery deep-dives and uncover unfinished psychonauts missions!! Wahoo yahoo!!
Mystery incorporated asses! They’re fun, i enjoy them a lot! Hopefully this is some good tidbits of detail for u thank u for asking about them :]
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I think we have enough pieces to speculate when Lu Guang first leapt from/to. So, the hard limit is obvious enough. S2e1 we get Lu Guang flashing back to Cheng Xiaoshi's death. He must have already jumped by then and that seems pretty straightforward.
The soft limit comes more down to the Cheng Xiaoshi-Lu Guang dynamic as well as the remarks about Lu Guang being "mature". Lu Guang being mentioned as mature/beyond his years seems a big indicator that he already jumped. Now, I can't remember the first time the "mature" comment was made beyond it being sometime in s1, but literally the first episode of the series has Lu Guang instructing Cheng Xiaoshi through the rules as Cheng Xiaoshi takes a somewhat exasperated approach. He also provides knowledge about diving that Cheng Xiaoshi himself seems to be lacking multiple times in s1, the most notable being his explanation of death nodes in the earthquake arc.
In other words, everything we have seen "present day" of the time trio has been *after* Lu Guang's dive. Given this, I find two options most likely for when he leapt *to*, just from a storytelling perspective. It's either the overseas trip or Lu Guang's first meeting with Cheng Xiaoshi.
Where Lu Guang landed after leaping back
The first mention of the overseas trip was back in s1 during the Doudou case and we have a timeframe for it as around three years ago as a result. (For context, I think Lu Guang first met Cheng Xiaoshi around six or so years ago, they went through uni together, and then at some point after the trip they started the photo studio together) I haven't looked into this too deeply because I prefer to speculate from what's in the show itself, but it sounds like various out-of-universe sources have confirmed that this trip is when shiguang first obtained their powers and we're set to get some flashbacks to it in s3. Basically, whilst there isn't much in-universe beyond the conspicuous mention in s1 pointing towards this as being the missing period, everything out-of-universe seems to blaring huge alarms about it being important. Regardless of if it ends up being Lu Guang's actual leaping point, it *is* important to the story.
We also have Liu Xiao "studying overseas" for several years which may or may not be related, but is curious.
The main thing preventing me from putting the overseas trip down as a higher probability is the way that Lu Guang slotted into Cheng Xiaoshi's and Qiao Ling's lives. It reads as very coincidental and sure, it could literally be so, but Cheng Xiaoshi even remarked when reminiscing about how easily Lu Guang slotted into their lives. Which would make sense if he already knew them. This would also explain how Cheng Xiaoshi or Qiao Ling didn't notice some huge shift in Lu Guang's personality (as has been implied by the "mature" remarks) because as far as they knew, he'd been like that as long as they'd known him. And Lu Guang *did* say he was "returning to the beginning". (Though the "beginning" could just as easily refer to the beginning of when they got their powers--)
Where Lu Guang leapt from
In terms of where he leapt *from*, if he leapt *to* the overseas trip, then most likely he leapt back within the trip itself to fix things or from before the introduction of the twins in some alternate version of s1 which went wrong. If the first meeting idea is correct then the time range goes back further technically, but given they only gained their powers in the overseas trip it seems unlikely he leapt from a time before then.
I agree from others' observations about shiguang's clothes (namely, that they seem to be wearing their s1 clothes in his flashback) and the comment about "things seem to be changing" in s2e1 (as well as the way that Lu Guang clearly didn't know the twins' backstories or he wouldn't have let Cheng Xiaoshi dive into Tianxi's photo) that the timeline diverged before s2 either way.
We know from his watch that the original Cheng Xiaoshi died mid-September, which is... less helpful than you'd expect. You can't use it to remove s1 alternate (as that happened around April to Octoberish iirc) or overseas trip (as mid-September is still summerish). But it leaves three dates over the course of three years for Lu Guang to have leapt from.
He could have even leapt back from the overseas trip to the first meeting, which would account for sources being so cagey around Lu Guang's age without neglecting the importance of the overseas trip or Cheng Xiaoshi's comments about how easily Lu Guang slotted in.
Tldr;
The Lu Guang we have known since s1 has always been post-dive. He most likely leapt either to the overseas trip or to his first meeting with Cheng Xiaoshi. He leapt from a time period during/after the overseas trip (as no powers before then) but couldn't have leapt from any later than end of s1 (as in his previous timeline/s, he was never stabbed and never learnt about the twins so he never "reached" a s2 equivalent). Regardless of when he leapt to/from, the overseas trip is important.
#link click#link click spoilers#shiguang daili ren#shiguang daili ren spoilers#abusing formatting to make this a bit less wall of texty
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My Little Love- Miss Peregrine
Context: Miss Peregrine has just given birth to beautiful little girl, this is just a little snapshot from their first moments together.
A/N: I hope you all enjoy this little moment, don’t question how Miss Peregrine got pregnant just enjoy the cute moment.
Warning(s): None
A great happiness had flooded over the Children's Home on Cairnholm Island in Wales. The year was 2001 in the present but still it remained forever the year 1940 in the loop of the island and a beautiful miracle had just occurred.
In the early hours of the afternoon, at precisely 1:13pm, the happy and healthy cries of a new born erupted in the bedroom of the Headmistress of the home, Alma LeFay Peregrine had given birth to a beautiful baby girl.
Miss Peregrine had gone into labour in the morning and with a house filled with children, to say that the ymbryne quickly became hysterical was understatement. The baby was two weeks early, sending everyone who occupied the house into a state of panic.
Everything had been planned accordingly for in two weeks time and Miss Cuckoo and Miss Sparrow had graciously agreed to come and help for a few days when the baby did finally arrive.
Of course it was partially Alma's fault that she had gotten into that position, as she should have known that babies weren't ruled by the concept of time but in the end her Ymrbrynic mind and pregnancy brain had made her completely look over that point.
But it didn't matter now, not now that Alma was sitting upright in bed cradling her baby against her chest, enjoying the skin to skin contact as her little girl began to familiarise herself with the world around her and the woman who carried her.
Miss Peregrine had accomplished many things in her long life and seen many a miracle but nothing could or would ever compare to the little bundle of joy she had created. It shocking, how after all this time of caring for her own wards, that she could feel a different type of love at all.
Her wards had been her life, her sole purpose for existing and they still were but now being the sole protector of such a small life who's blood was so similar to her own, Alma's maternal instincts and already large heart had expanded to lengths she'd never thought possible before.
As the baby slept fast asleep in her arms all Alma could do was was admire the life she had created. It had been nine months of waiting, nine months of worrying and nine months of hoping.
The worrying had been the hardest part, Alma could live with the morning sickness, back aches and sleepless nights but throughout her pregnancy worry had been the thing to make her cry and reach an almost breaking point.
Such a thing should never have been possible, it had been the second most frightening moment of her life when she'd found out the reasons for sudden illness, though she'd never discussed what had lead to such a miraculous conception, as she didn't believe in 'discussing unpleasant matters' (A/N take that line however you will, there's no hidden meaning behind it.)
She still had no explanation as to how the pregnancy had even been able to develop, time loops prevented aging and as such she should never have even known she'd conceived but it seemed the world had other plans for the Ymbryne.
Yet, when a gurgling noise broke Alma out of her thoughts and she looked down to see how her baby smiled and blew little bubbles, she knew she didn't need to know how it had happened, not when the result was now the most precious thing in her life.
"Miss Peregrine," A voice called out and the headmistresses head whipped up to see who had spoken, at first Alma's heart rate had doubled and she'd turned her head frantically to the door, to see who stood there, a new type of panic overwhelming her body.
"Oh Miss Bloom, it's only you," Alma spoke taking a deep breath in to settle her nerves, before her daughter gently as the little girl had began to cry from both the new voice and her mother's sudden movements.
"I'm so sorry Miss P, I hope I didn't scare you both," Emma whispered guiltily as she stepped into the room, her head now banging low and her hands fidgeting.
"It's quite alright Emma, no harm done," Alma responded kindly once she'd been able to settle the baby. "What is you needed?" She then asked the blood girl who stood at the foot of her bed.
"Oh we were just wondering how you were both doing," Emma began to say, "I know Claire and Bronwyn are quite eager to meet the littlest peculiar and us older ones were wondering if you'd want anything to eat or drink."
“I’m alright Emma, thank you,” Miss Peregrine said to young blonde who began to walk round to her Headmistresses side.
“She’s so beautiful,” Emma commented in a hushed whisper, “and look she’s got your eyes,” she then said excitedly as the little had opened her eyes ever so slightly, showing off the beautiful blue that lay underneath.
“I suppose she has,” Miss Peregrine whispered giving her daughter a gentle kiss in her forehead and soon after Emma left allowing mother and daughter to have some sleep.
#miss peregrines home for peculiar children#miss peregrine book#miss peregrine movie#miss peregrine imagine#miss peregrines museum of wonders#miss peregrine#miss peregrine x reader#miss peregrines daughter#alma lefay peregrine#eva green#eva green story
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Wilde (1997)
Triggerwarning: Homophobia, Sex (in the movie, not depicted in this blogpost)
Plot: A part of Oscar Wilde’s life story.
Spoilers beyond this
Michael plays Robbie Ross, a good friend to Oscar Wilde and, delicately put, his first male lover.
Following are my incoherent thoughts as I was watching the movie: (some gifs for context, for the other parts watch the movie and you'll get it)
starting out chill with Oscar meeting his future wife
oh who might this dashing young fella be?
lol that didn’t work did it?
Nevermind it did work
I was so not prepared for this
This guy has a lot of thoughts in his head and none of them are holy
Bitch what
If someone looked at me like that I’d instantly fall for them too. Man brought his A-Game
Oh my god this is going too fast even for me and I’m just watching
Why would you give him lines like that?
(I refuse to clip the next part, I don't know who might read this)
What in the what I barely got into the movie, why would you do this to me
I have questions
I have so many emotions at once right now I actually feel a bit sick
I’m 16 Minutes in and my heart is breaking at the thought of where this might be going
Okay, I got used to the fact that I am actually watching a movie about gay men
Me watching a movie about a gay author: （☆ω☆ ）
Me when theres actual portayal of intimacy between men: （○ □ ○ ）
I swear I’m so normal about this.
Wtf Oscar why would you drop Robbie like that. I get that this was an affair, but like this? He picked that other guy up like an apple from a tree.
Watch Robbie take this like the king he is
Oscar met yet another guy (Bosie) and seems to fall in love with him and guy #2 litterally wants to khs and/or Bosie, while Robbie has only respect, acceptance and love to give.
lol taste of your own medicie, huh?
I hate Bosie
I love Robbie
Drama between Bosie and Wilde, which results in Oscar being sentenced to two years in prison
Oof that speech Oscar held in court tho, right in the feels
Robbie is an absolute treasure of a person. Get yourself a man like him. Don’t settle for less.
Wtf all this stress and heartbreak for Oscar and Bosie to break up after three months, the world is a cruel place
- End of incoherent thoughts-
That was heartbreaking in so many ways. The main story obviously is unbelievably tragic but we shall focus on other things.
There are a lot of strong performances in this movie, the whole cast was quite good.
You can strongly feel the love Robbie has for Oscar, he has this soft tone when he talks to or about him, he wants him to be happy even if it means that he himself wont be. He accepts that Oscar doesn’t love him the same way and still supports his friend under any circumstances. It's not just in the dialouge, it's also in the way Robbie talks to and looks at Oscar. He’s pure kindness, love and devotion.
He cares so much for him it's breaking my poor little heart :c
On a less serious note, my guy really went ahead and had his first on-screen kiss be a gay kiss!?! Fuckin hell! And he did so well! Icon, king, legend, right from the start!
Because there aren't enough gifs in this already, have some more little moments I enjoyed :3
✨Puppy dog eyes✨
Good save xD
Why would you hold it like that?
I don't even know why, just thought he looked dashing in this scene
Me too, Robbie, me too.
I probably could've written more, but that wouldn't do the movie and characters justice. Bosie's full brattiness alone is something I couldn't even capture in gifs. Kudos to Jude Law, he really made me hate that character. He's the exact opposite of Robbie. They had only two scenes together I think, but it's awesome to see their personalities clash.
I’d say you should check this movie out, especially if you’re lgbt+ yourself obviously. And then go ahead and read Oscar Wildes works, they're queer history and in general important literature anyone should know.
At the end of this I have learned that I, in fact, don’t hate love drama, I just like it if it's gay. And preferably has a certain actor in it.
#Don't you come at me telling me Oscar Wilde wasn't actually *just* gay#I know he loved his wife very much and everything but for simplification purposes I used the word gay#We good?#We good.#oscar wilde#wilde#michael sheen#filmography#queer history
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To my knowledge, you like Puyo Puyo! But what do you enjoy most about it?
Honestly, it might be easier to explain my intoduction to the series. Ideally we'll get there in the end either way. You ever seen one of those "What I Played/What I Expected/What I Got" memes? My story is pretty much like one of those.
I don't remember when I started learning bits and pieces about it, or when Dr. Robotnik's Mean Bean Machine went from being itself to a Puyo game in a trenchcoat in my mind. But by mid 2017 I knew the aforementioned (I called the CPZ boss in Sonic Mania a Puyo boss on twitter when I played it), recognized Carbuncle, recognized Draco Centauros (thanks to a friend who is still a big fan of her), and had heard that there was some sort of story to it, but didn't know a lot of details.
Then in September of 2017, a friend of mine mentioned that he had been playing Puyo Puyo Tetris lately as his go-to "pick up and play" sort of game. I looked it up in the eshop, saw it was cheap, and thought a pick-up-and-play game was what I needed and bought it. Not that I knew shit about playing Puyo well, but I at least had some basic competency at Tetris to balance things out.
And hey, at least the story mode would be a good way to learn! So I dove in to the story and started playing.
I was expecting the story to be inconseqential to my enjoyment of the game. Something either generic or corny, with characters that ranged from "tolerable" to "painful anime cliche."
The thing that knocked me on my ass almost immediately was that the writing was actually funny, made better with the English cast's fantastic delivery.
Those are all from just the story's first chapter! The first one is from the prologue! The other two are from the third scene (couting dialogue before and after a round of gameplay together as one scene)! And it kept going!
For the record, even though I was picky with what to include, and stitching lines from the same scenes together, I still had almost fifty (50) funny moments I wanted to drop out of context, in a game with a rough total of two hours of story material collected to write this post. And then I had to narrow it down further just so I wouldn't hit the image limit too quickly.
Was it a little corny and awkward at points? Sure. Several voice actors had to grow into their roles. Plus, the impression I always had from the script-- an impression that's only gotten stronger the more I learn about this series and then come back to this game-- is that someone on the development team was not expecting this to be all that successful overseas. And not for no reason, since Puyo Puyo's tried to get its foot in the door in the west several times by this point. But the end result of this lack of faith was a localization team that tried very hard to make this game stand on its own merits with as little understanding of the games that had come before as possible. Which, honestly I think they did a pretty dang good job of! Especially since it didn't shy away from the hard-hitting stuff when it came. Which I'm going to intentionally leave even further out of context so as to not give away all of it.
There was also this line here, which was what first clued me in that the writing's quality wasn't an accident, that the writer is actually thinking all this stuff through:
Fun fact, the only people you will see in your dreams are people you have seen while you're awake. The parts of the brain responsible for dreams can't make up new faces, or throw together composites of preeviously-known ones. Hence, this question, which does in fact get answered in the next scene, in a way that made me go, "Ohhh, that's really smart, actually!"
But yeah. That was just this one game. It took me a few more years before I tried other games that had been translated, fan or otherwise, but the more I've played and the more I learn about these characters and their worlds, the more engrossed I get. It's a hyperfixation now. It seems like there's always something new I'm learning about it, but it's not overwhelming, it just feels like I'm knowing a good friend better and better. The modern artstyle is deceptively simple and very endearing, and so many of the characters are interesting and fun. And the current writer is just so galaxy-brained, I'm not even kidding.
The characters in the Puyo Puyo series are all morons. They're all crazy. But at the end of the day, they care about each other, no matter how little they want to admit it. And they all have their own theming to the magic they use. It's a lot of fun. From your standard-fair RPG spells, to cosmic forces, to math terms,
I can't recommend this series enough, no matter what your skill level with puzzle games is! There's something in it for everyone.
Unless you're looking for genuinely evil characters, I guess. Like, there are characters that are intimidating or sinister or threatening, but almost none of them are actually evil. Fraid the closest to that this series has is a(n as-of-now) gender-ambiguous Elon Musk with better hair in the Japan-excusive gacha game.
Further reading from the author (that isn't already on their tumblr):
[1]
[2]
[3]
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