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ugh-yoongi · 1 year

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she, by proxy | myg, kth

(or, the one where yoongi gets what yoongi wants, even when what he wants is taehyung. especially when it's taehyung.)

✤ pairing: yoongi x reader; taehyung x reader; yoongi x taehyung ✤ genre: est. relationship (yoongi x reader), pwp ✤ rating: explicit; minors dni ✤ warnings: a lot of swearing, drinking but no one's drunk, a friend group in which everyone is queer and has fucked at least once probably, taehyung is a messy hoe but yoongi's an entire disaster, pining, open relationships, polyamory that is discussed briefly, i have been told there are some feelings involved. the most important: there is gay stuff in here!!! i repeat, some of this is VERY GAY! please do not read if that isn't your thing! ✤ smut warnings: girls making out, a threesome, dudes kissing, oral sex (m. receiving), anal fingering, vaginal fingering, taegi get pegged, dirty talk, dudes touching themselves a lot, come as lube (but there's also real lube dw), come eating, voyeurism, a lil slapping (thighs/clit), the dom/sub dynamics shift throughout the fic but mainly dom!reader, very mild degradation, a lil begging, taehyung cries, fingers always seem to wind up in mouths, hair pulling, frottage, yoongi accidentally gets edged, praise, protected sex, dp (fingers & piv at the same time). i think that's it :') but let me know if i forgot anything. ✤ word count: 8.3k ✤ credits: thank you to @effortandmore / @the-boy-meets-evil / & @here2bbtstrash for beta'ing this for me. my personal porny fairy godparents. i appreciate you all a whole lot. ✤ author's note: can you believe my degenerate brain dreamed this up and then i wrote all of it in two days in a delirious haze, opened the doc this morning to make final edits, and added almost 2k more. idk who i am anymore. if i missed anything it's bc i finished & edited this during jk's live and i was distracted, to say the least. anyway this is embarrassing i feel like a prude so i'm gonna go hide. pls come scream in my inbox with me unless it's to yell tired shit at me abt writing mxm/pegging/whatever else i warned you this is gay.

You hadn’t been surprised the first time, and you’re not surprised now, countless times later.

A girl slides into Taehyung’s lap—long hair, bubblegum pink, almost certainly a wig—and his hands immediately go to the small of her back. Large, nearly swallow her up, and they move to rest possessively at her hips, his grip tight as he pulls her closer. Her top is cropped latex and leaves very little to the imagination, which isn’t an issue for you or Yoongi because she’s not what Yoongi’s looking at. His eyes are locked on Taehyung’s hands; locked on the way the tendons flex as he manhandles the faceless girl in his lap, hikes her over one thick thigh.

Ten more seconds of this and all of you will be looking for a new club.

The air is hazy and thick, the floor sticky with god knows what, and Yoongi reaches for you beneath the table. His own large hand finds your smaller one, those knobby knuckles almost uncomfortable when he twines your fingers together. He’s still staring at Taehyung, and you want to do something, say something, it’ll be someone else soon, stop watching, you’re only gonna hurt yourself, but you know him, and you know when he gets like this it’s best to just let him ride it out. Suffer a little.

(Right now, it doesn’t seem like it’ll be tortured as last time, at least—when all of you had gone someplace else, some seedy spot in an Itaewon basement, and Taehyung had some girl pressed against the wall outside the bathrooms, fingers buried deep in her cunt as she shook and came. And Hobi, smarter and sharper than any of you but still so fucking stupid, had just—

“Fuck, man, they’re gonna need a mop and bucket for that. I mean, shit, it was so much? The sound when it hit the floor—”

Jeongguk had pulled a face. Half doe-eyes, half mortified terror. “When what hit the floor, hyung?”

“Her fucking squirt, Jeonggukie, what the fuck do you think—”

And Namjoon, just as wide-eyed and terrified as Jeongguk but for an entirely different reason, had laughed awkwardly and said, “Haaa, maybe we should talk about something else?” as he looked between Hoseok and Yoongi.

That night had been shit-tier, nearly unsalvageable, so at least it doesn’t seem like Taehyung’s in that kind of mood. At least the girl in his lap still has her clothes on. At least his hands are someplace you can see them. At least Yoongi’s still beside you.)

So you bide your time. Take stock of who’s still here and where they are, because the girl in Taehyung’s lap has her lips on his neck and things might go south faster than you’d originally anticipated. Hoseok and Jimin are on the dance floor, hips doing something sinful and too much; Namjoon’s at the bar, jaw clenched as the bartender passes him over for the fourth time in a row; Soyeon and Hyungseo are in the other side of your booth, tongues sloppy as they kiss just because they feel like it; Jeongguk, shoved in the corner on Yoongi’s other side, is slack-jawed as he stares at them, and Jeongguk is a fucking pervert so you know he’s hard.

“Put your dick back in your pants, Jeonggukie,” you say, loud enough for him to hear you over the music. The bass is heavy as it drops, feels like it’s thrumming through your veins, and Jeongguk startles. Bangs his knee on the underside of the table in his panic, and Soyeon and Hyungseo don’t bother breaking apart to look. “You want another drink?” you ask Yoongi, squeezing his hand a little tighter.

He shakes his head, finally drags his attention away from Taehyung. There’s someone new in his lap: chin-length silver hair, thin legs that go on for miles, tan skin covered in boldly-colored tattoos, could be anyone. Yoongi isn’t looking anymore, but you are, so you catch it when Taehyung looks up. Looks right at Yoongi, wants to see if he’s watching, but instead he just finds you. “Gonna go smoke,” Yoongi answers, and you slide out of the booth to let him leave.

“Is hyung okay?” Jeongguk asks when the two of you are pressed back together. He sips leisurely at his drink, trying to make it last until Namjoon makes it back from the bar with another one. Something baby blue and shockingly green, a little umbrella on top. Two cherries. “He seems sad. Hey, watch this.” Jeongguk pops one into his mouth and presents the knotted stem to you seconds later.

This is the part you never know how to explain: that Yoongi loves you but sometimes he wants someone else. Not instead, but too. That you love Yoongi and want him to have whatever he wants, and that jealousy is foreign to you. That you and Yoongi love each other but do things a little unorthodox, which is not out of the ordinary for a friend group as ran-through and commingled as yours, but still takes patience and care to explain.

So you just ruffle Jeongguk’s hair, laugh at his squawking protests, and wrangle him so you can press a kiss to the top of his head. “Don’t worry this pretty little head about your hyungs, okay?”

Jeongguk surfaces with a glare, surface-level because you’ve embarrassed him in front of two hot girls that are still making out, and hides his flushed cheeks behind his drink. “Is it about Taehyungie-hyung?”

“What’d I just tell you?”

He pouts, but you’re saved from another interrogation by Namjoon’s unceremonious return to the table. He’s so flustered by his one-sided feud with the bartender that he slams the blue-green drink down a little too hard, spills half of it in Jeongguk’s lap. “Move over,” he says to you, and you cock an eyebrow in return. “Please,” he amends, like that’s what you’d been looking for, but when you still don’t move he gets a little whiny and panicked. “They’re relentless,” he says, pointing his thumb at Soyeon and Hyungseo like you can’t see them. “Don’t make me—”

“What about me!” Jeongguk wails, pressing his hands pathetically to his groin like he’s trying to stem bleeding, at the same time you roll your eyes and fire a, “Says Mr. Eight-gigabyte Porn Folder,” at Namjoon.

You receive another glare, this time from Namjoon, and he doesn’t hesitate to steal Jeongguk’s spot against the wall when he goes to the bathroom to deal with his soaked pants, only to start swearing when he realizes the seat is wet, too. “Jesus fuck—”

“That’s what you get.”

“Fuck off,” Namjoon fires back. “Where’s Yoongi-hyung?”

“Outside smoking.”

“Smok—why is he smoking?” At your silence, he jerks his head up, intent on getting an answer out of you. Instead, his question dies on his tongue as he follows your line of sight. Another new person in Taehyung’s lap, sucking Taehyung’s fingers into their mouth. “Ah, yeah. That fucking guy.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Be nice, Namjoonie. You know Taehyung would hook up with a microwave if it gave him attention.”

“What number is that, then? Hasn’t he gotten enough attention?”

“Third I’ve seen. The first one was cute. I thought for sure he was gonna leave with her.”

Namjoon huffs, shakes his head. Takes a long pull of his beer. “He’s not gonna leave with anyone. He just does this to piss off hyung.” Then, like he’s coming to a realization, he turns to look at you with a quizzical look. “Wait, where’d Seokjin-hyung go?”

You stare back in disbelief. “How long were you at the fucking bar? He left hours ago.”

“Did he?” Then, quieter and to himself, “How long was I at the fucking bar?”

Whatever game Taehyung is playing, Yoongi is woefully inept at playing along.

Doesn’t know when it’s his move or when it’s time to sit and watch. Doesn’t know the rules. Doesn’t really listen when you try to explain it to him; probably doesn't want to hear it. Yoongi seems to think he’s at his best when he’s a little sad, a little miserable and yearning. At its core, that’s what the game is, and as much as he keeps touching the thorns to see if he’ll bleed, you know he still enjoys it.

(Know he gets off on it, too.)

Yoongi reaches for you. Steadies himself with his hand on your shoulder, pupils wide as saucers—dark dark dark in the corner of this grimy club—eventually breaking into a smile when you grab his sweat-slick hands and guide them to your waist. Your bodies move together like waves, pushing apart only for Yoongi to continuously pull you in closer, dazed from the feeling of you pressed against him.

“Fuck,” he breathes, words impossible to hear over the music, “look at you. So fucking pretty.”

He threads a knee between your legs, the sound of his groan drowned out as you roll your hips against him. Maybe Yoongi doesn’t know the rules to this game, but you do, and you make sure Taehyung’s watching when you drag your core against Yoongi’s thigh. He groans again, and his hands grip your hips tighter, moving you back and forth on him the way he does when you ride him.

You watch as he drags his eyes upward, see the exact moment he spots Taehyung across the club. His profile is lit up by the strobe lights, filling in the contours of his bone structure with greens and blues. He’s with Jimin and Hoseok now, dancing with the girl from earlier with the pink hair, her back pressed to his chest. He leans down and whispers recycled filth into her ear that she seems to buy. You watch as Yoongi closes his eyes tight; watch him pretend it’s Taehyung dancing with him; it’s Taehyung’s hips he’s gripping onto; it’s Taehyung who’s moaning and desperate for him in this moment.

You watch as his eyes snap open again.

You watch as he realizes he’s in this daydream alone.

And you wonder, briefly, if this should bother you. If this is fucked up, that Yoongi’s hard against you because he’s thinking about someone else, and you find that you don’t care. What you and Yoongi have doesn’t need to make sense to anyone except the two of you.

“Wanna go home,” Yoongi slurs into your ear, fucked up from the feel of you, the thought of Taehyung.

You smirk, tangle your hands in his hair and tug a little just to fuck him up even more. “Yeah? What d’you wanna go home for? It’s still pretty early.”

“Wanna fuck you,” he whines. Tries to hold you in place to grind harder against you and whines again when you move just out of reach. “Baby.”

“You know the rule.” There’s a drop of sweat that rolls down the side of Yoongi’s neck that you chase with your tongue. “Tell me what you actually want and we can leave.”

The breath he sucks in is harsh, fractured, like your question is a special kind of torture. You know it is. Unlike with Taehyung, this is a game both you and Yoongi know the rules to. Unlike with Taehyung, this is the game Yoongi plays to win. The song changes again, this time to something filthy and slow, and Yoongi fits himself to your back, moves until both of you are facing Taehyung. “Want you both,” he says into your ear. Nips at the lobe. “Want to watch you fuck him the way you fuck me.”

“Don’t wanna fuck him yourself?”

You feel him shake his head. “Not this time.”

“What are you doing, then? In this fantasy of yours?”

Yoongi presses closer, the outline of his hard cock pressing into the small of your back now. “Watching, at first. Wanna see you ruin him.” His hands skim along your skin, dip beneath the hemline of your shirt, dance across your stomach. “Wanna watch you make him fucking cry.”

“Are you telling me how?”

Yoongi’s laugh is low, a little caustic. “I won’t need to. He’s so fuckin’ easy.”

“And yet you want him this bad,” you taunt. “Someone easy like that—doesn’t seem to be your type.”

He bites along your neck. “Watch yourself.”

“I’m not the one all fucked up over Kim Taehyung.” You make eye contact with the man in question. Watch as the look on his face fades into a smirk, syrupy and slow. Sleezy, you think. He probably is as easy as Yoongi says. “I should tell him how fucking hard you are. Should tell him you’re gonna take me home and fuck me and come thinking about him. That’s pretty fuckin’ dirty, Yoongi.”

It’s nothing you haven’t said before. Sometimes you press even harder, humiliate him a little when he seems to be in the mood for it, but this time he goes stock-still. Silence stretches between the two of you, the only people standing still on this dancefloor, and you’re halfway turned around to see if Yoongi wants to fuck or cry when he says, “Do it, then.”

You laugh. All part of the game. But then Yoongi grabs your hand, moves it to his cock, straining against his skin-tight jeans, some kind of message that’s gotten fucked up in translation. “Yoongi—”

“Tell him,” he says, expression shuttered and serious.

“You wanna think about this for more than ten seconds? You haven’t talked to him since the last time you guys hooked up and you want me to go tell him you… what? That you want to have some weird cuck threesome with him?”

That’s exactly what you told him.

(Because you know Yoongi, and you also know Taehyung. Your dig at him to Namjoon was very much based in truth, and with how fucked up the dynamics of your friend group are, it hadn’t taken much more than sending Yoongi out into the cold to order a taxi, swaying your hips a little, re-glossing your lips, and disposing of the girl with the bubblegum pink hair. No one had batted an eye.

“I’m going home to fuck my boyfriend,” you said, leaning into Taehyung’s space. He was draped on the couch again, legs spread in a way that was frankly obscene. “Would you like to join us?”

“That depends, angel. How do you fuck him?” he asked, spreading his legs wider.

You stepped closer. Cupped his cheek, dug your nails into his skin a little, and said, “Better than you ever did,” all condescension.

Taehyung had just laughed. Pressed his tongue into the fat of his cheek. “I guess we’ll see about that.”)

And now you’re here, Taehyung sprawled on the bed beneath you. You can see why a sight like this would have Yoongi fucked up as long as he has been: Taehyung’s golden skin contrasting against the crisp white of the sheets, dark hair fanning against the pillows, curls falling into his eyes, chest heaving. Each time he throws his head back you’re torn between sinking your teeth into the column of his throat and wrapping your hands around it. It’s easy to ruin him when he looks like this; easy to give Yoongi what he wants.

“What should I do with you?” you think out loud, and Taehyung’s responding whimper draws a laugh out of you. “Yoongi wants to watch me fuck you,” you continue, hands teasing toward the sensitive skin of his inner thighs. You pinch, slap away the sting. “Would you like that?”

Taehyung’s cock—long and thick, still glistening with spit from when you sucked him off—twitches at the thought. “Y-yeah, fuck, want that,” he answers, hands moving to fist the sheets. He’s been so good. Has done exactly as you said. “Wan’ you to fuck me.”

“Should I fuck you the way you used to fuck your hyung?” Both Taehyung and Yoongi moan at the same time, and it’s so stupid, you think, this game they’ve been playing. Cat and mouse, as if the conclusion hasn’t been inevitable this whole time. “Use your words, Taehyung.”

“Yeah,” he says again, Adam’s apple bobbing heavily in his throat. “Y-yeah, like that.”

You hum, reach behind you for the bottle of lube. Yoongi mutters a quiet shit from the other side of the room and you glance over. Mouth hung open, lips wet; jeans pushed halfway down his thighs, the outline of his cock visible through his briefs, hand squeezing at the base. Cheating a little, but still not touching himself the way you know he wants to. He’ll be the first to cry, at this rate.

Eyes back on Taehyung. You wonder if he’d normally preen, put on a show. You wonder if he did that with Yoongi, some whole thing. “He’s told me about it, you know,” you say, clicking the lube open. Sounds more like a gunshot in the small space of your bedroom, where the only other sounds are labored breathing and the city outside. “Told me all about how you used to split him open with that big cock.” You tip the bottle sideways, let the lube dribble out and over Taehyung’s balls. He hisses at the cold, mutters a swear. “Told me he’d struggle to take it sometimes.”

“You two are—fuck.” Whatever Taehyung was going to say is cut off as your finger follows the lube, trails down to his hole. You circle it there, make sure it’s wet, press a little just to watch his hips jerk. “You two are fu-fucking weird.”

“Mm, maybe,” you concede, “but you should see how hard he comes when he’s thinking about you.”

You gather more lube on your finger, then, and press it inside. Just to the first knuckle, just enough to make Taehyung whine. “I guess you already know that, though,” you continue. Pour a little more lube on Taehyung’s skin. Pull your finger out enough to slicken it, push it back in a little further. “Was it good for you?”

His moan is broken and low, deep and heady. A sound that makes the world feel like it’s tilting; a sound that makes you want to chase it. “Yeah,” Taehyung answers, and it could be a response or a declaration when it’s followed by, “so fucking good.”

“Yoongi is good, isn’t he? He listens so well.” With your free hand, you grab Taehyung’s face roughly, turn his head in the direction of where Yoongi’s sitting. “Look at him,” you instruct. He already looks fucked-out. Cheeks flushed, breathing hard, knuckles white where he’s gripping onto the arm of the chair. “Look at how good he’s being, not even touching himself.”

And Taehyung… Taehyung almost looks ashamed. Won’t meet Yoongi’s gaze, now that they’re so close, now that it’s real, and this won’t do, will it, so you dig your nails in a little harder, drag them down his cheek, tell him again to look at his hyung. Then—

For the first time all night, their eyes meet at the same time.

Yoongi’s whimper is loud. The loudest you’ve ever heard him outside of actual sex. You work in a second finger alongside the first, build up a steady rhythm, and Taehyung isn’t faring much better. Little by little he opens up for you and you’re thankful for the way he sucks you in, adjusts. It’s getting harder to ignore the heat between your own legs, watching two beautiful men fall apart in vastly different ways, even though you want to drag this out, want to make Taehyung cry and give Yoongi exactly what he wanted.

And, god, Taehyung is so fucking pretty.

You tell him as much, and his smile is greasy, looks even more lewd when you crook your fingers and his eyes roll back. He’s still tight around you when he asks for a third so you shake your head, tell him no, tell him he’s greedy, and you think people must not make him beg much, the way he’s pouting. Taehyung has a face that gets him whatever he wants and a cock to match, and you’d understood it before, why Yoongi couldn’t really let it go, but it’s different when it’s right in front of you, making a mess of your sheets.

“I must be going soft on you,” you tell him, working in another finger the next time he asks. “Yoongi wanted me to make you cry and here I am, giving you whatever you want. Maybe I should let him decide what you get.”

Taehyung shoots a hand out, grabs at your forearm. “Don’t,” he says, voice hoarse, bordering on pleading. “Please. He’s still mad at me, won’ give me anything.”

A huff of breath escapes you. “He doesn’t look very mad to me. Looks like he could probably come on command if you told him to.” It’s not an exaggeration, not really; Yoongi is gone, looks like a stiff wind could have him spilling all over himself. “But maybe that’s what you deserve.”

You nail Taehyung’s prostate the next time you crook your fingers and he sobs. You do it again, then a third time. Precome oozes out of his cock, deepens the pool on his belly. You keep it up until tears pool on his waterline, until he’s reaching for you again, begging you to stop, words cracking as he tells you desperately that he’s going to come. “Angel, fuck, please, I’m gonna—”

“No, you’re not,” you tell him, all authority. “You’re not going to come, are you, because I haven’t told you to. Yoongi hasn’t told you to.”

The first frustrated tear streaks down Taehyung’s cheek. “Oh my fucking god,” he chokes out, forcing his hips flat to the bed, tries to force you to stop moving. But your rhythm is steady, confident, three fingers working with the space he’s left you, and it isn’t until you watch his balls tighten that they slow. Taehyung’s sweat-slick, looks even more golden under the amber lamplight, and it’s dizzying, the way the color shifts as his chest heaves with his ragged breaths.

There’s only enough time for you to slip your fingers out, grab the lube, slick up the strap-on that’s fastened around your hips, before you’re pressing the head against Taehyung’s hole, still dripping wet. “It’s so big,” you muse, grinning wickedly at the man beneath you, “I don’t know if it’s going to fit. What do you think, Yoongi? Is this how you used to feel?”

When you look over this time, Yoongi has his cock out, briefs tucked beneath his balls, stroking fast. Clicking your tongue, he looks up through half-lidded eyes, hand stilling immediately. His nod is almost imperceptible, too disoriented to answer, and you’ll give him this one. Won’t push it. What you will push, though—

“Shit.”

You’re not sure if it comes from Yoongi or Taehyung. It might’ve even come from you, because you’re transfixed, can’t tear your eyes away from the sight of your stupid flesh-colored dildo disappearing into Taehyung’s body. Fucking greedy, you think, mostly at yourself, because if this sight is good you can only imagine what you’d see if you were watching his face. Brows furrowed, mouth pinched. A look not far off from that night in the club, the determination on his face as he fucked that girl with his fingers, uncaring who heard or saw.

But this is your show. Yoongi’s fantasy. Whatever girls—people—Taehyung has fucked in seedy clubs across Seoul are of little importance here. All that matters is the steady push of your hips, the slow roll once you’re fully buried, the pleasure that jolts through you when you’re able to grind a little against the toy, the way Taehyung thrashes against the sheets, incoherent as he babbles, stuck between more and too much.

“Okay?” you ask, hands skimming along his warm skin. Goosebumps trail in their wake, and you settle them on his thighs. Press them up and to the side as he nods, giving yourself more space, and Taehyung’s moan is loud, unabashed. His cock lies neglected against his stomach, begging you to reach out and grab it, stroke him, make him come too fast so you have another bruise to press on, some way to embarrass him.

But this is your show, Yoongi’s fantasy, and you don’t have to look because you can hear how close your boyfriend is to getting himself off. Can hear the way his breath hitches, can hear when his rhythm changes. Quicker, now. More insistent. If Taehyung looked over at him, it’d be all over, and you almost tell him to do that, too.

“Stop touching yourself,” you say to Yoongi. A second time when he disregards the first, too far gone, too close. “Yoongi.” He whines but he listens, shoves his fingers in his mouth to stem the urge, and Taehyung watches it all.

You’re still thrusting, thighs burning, sticky where they meet Taehyung’s, and it won’t be your lengthiest performance, that’s for sure. So you call Yoongi’s name again, beckon him over, and he hesitates, looks so unsure. But it’s so stupid, the way he and Taehyung dance around one another—and you know, you know Taehyung wouldn’t be shaking like this if it were just you, if Yoongi wasn’t in his head, wasn’t watching—so you’re insistent. “Come here,” you tell him, and you make sure your voice is spun sugar when you say it.

Yoongi listens. Stumbles over on unsteady legs, knees nearly buckling when he gets close enough to also watch the way the strap-on fucks into Taehyung’s hole, the way it stretches obscenely to accommodate it. “Baby.” He threads his hands into your hair and kisses you hard and messy. Taehyung moans beneath you so you know he’s watching, and you will your body to move faster, fuck him harder.

When Yoongi pulls back, it’s obvious. The longing in his eyes. “Tell him,” you say, and he looks caught-out, would almost look angry if he were capable of it. “This is your fantasy, isn’t it? So tell him.”

“I—” He looks down at Taehyung again, meets his gaze again, and he must see something there you can’t, because all the hesitation is gone when he says, “I want to kiss you.”

And you know what it means.

Because that had been the rule between the two of them. No staying the night, no kissing. You know what it means for Yoongi to ask for that, what it’d mean if Taehyung allowed it, and it nearly cracks your heart in half that it’s the only thing he’s willing to ask for when his wants are endless when it comes to Taehyung.

“Oh my god,” Taehyung moans. “Fuck, hyung, yeah—yeah, c’mere, kiss me, please, fuck.”

Yoongi looks like he’s been punched in the gut. Looks overwhelmed, given this kind of permission, so he goes about it all wrong. Starts to kneel at the side of the bed before you tsk and grab him by his own hair. “Do it right,” you instruct.

He moans. Aborts whatever he was about to do and climbs over Taehyung on the bed, straddles him, fitting in between both of you perfectly, close enough for his cock to slot against Taehyung’s. They both moan, and their game had been so fucking stupid it sends a lick of anger through you. Yoongi ruts his hips once, twice, and then he’s leaning down and cupping Taehyung’s face and pressing his lips—still wet from you, still wearing your spit—to Taehyung’s.

And Taehyung comes immediately, nearly untouched. Spills all over himself with a loud, broken sob.

“Holy shit,” you say, hips slowing until they’re still. “Holy shit, that was fucking hot, what the fuck.”

Taehyung trembles in the comedown and Yoongi presses in closer, kisses him through it. Can’t seem to stop now that he’s allowed. He’s still rutting, has Taehyung teetering on oversensitivity, so you grab Yoongi’s hips to slow him. “Careful, baby,” you say softly into his ear. Press a kiss to the nape of his neck. Give him a minute to back away from the ledge again and get himself under control, let Taehyung catch his breath. “Are you okay, Taehyung?” you ask, hands once again touching any of his skin you can find. You knead at the muscles in his calves.

There’s some garbled response. Something you think is supposed to sound like an affirmation. “Words, please.”

“Y-yeah,” comes his response.

“Okay. I’m gonna go grab something to clean you up, all right?” You press another kiss to Yoongi’s shoulder, turn your attention to him. “Then we’ll finally give you what you want, yeah? Finally let you come.” A shiver runs up his spine and he nods weakly. “Can you prep yourself while I’m gone?” Another shaky nod. “Good boy. Gonna pull out now, Tae.”

You do so slowly. Taehyung hisses, sucks in a breath through his teeth. Hisses again when you replace the toy with your thumb, try to ease the discomfort of being so suddenly empty. With another kiss pressed to Yoongi’s shoulder, you mumble an I love you into his hair, and then you’re gone.

There’s always been something about the way Yoongi touches himself.

Like the goal is more than simply getting off. Like there’s reverence in it, something beyond purpose. Yoongi touches himself the way other people drop to their knees at church and pray.

Sometimes it’s long and drawn out. Sometimes his hands skirt over every inch of his own skin before he finally brings them to his cock. Sometimes he rests on his haunches in the middle of the bed and angles himself toward the mirror and watches, his cheeks aflame the entire time because he’s embarrassed to see himself like that, three of his own fingers fucking himself, but the embarrassment almost feels just as good. Sometimes he has you beneath him, raining down praise as his fist works the length of his cock.

Sometimes he does it entirely wrong, like now.

Two pale, lube-slick fingers work in and out of his hole. His own, then, and not Taehyung’s. Just like you’d asked. You’re a little surprised, thought maybe Yoongi might panic and retreat with you gone, but they’re both where you’d left them. Taehyung’s talking all the while, saying god knows what in that deep timbre, and it’s straight up pornographic the way his large hands rest on the cheeks of Yoongi’s ass, pull them apart.

The damp cloth in your hand feels useless. Is useless, you think, because Yoongi had told you something, once, deep in the throes of another cerebral fantasy—

“I can’t believe I have to keep telling you this,” you say, and everything immediately goes still at the sound of your voice, “but do it right, Yoongi.”

Taehyung lifts his head, stares at you skeptically. Probably mirroring the look on Yoongi’s face that you aren’t privy to with his back to you. “We’ve talked about this,” you continue, stalking closer. All eyes on you as you drop the cloth to the floor. “Are you clean?” you ask Taehyung, and he nods, expression still dubious.

And then you’re reaching between both of them, swiping your fingers through the mess of cum on Taehyung’s stomach, and he understands immediately. “Are you gon—fuuuck. Fucking christ.” The first swipe goes to Yoongi’s mouth, and there’s no hesitation as he sucks your fingers clean. Your free hand finds Yoongi’s, the one he’s working himself open with, and pulls it away. Replaces it with your own, your two longest fingers covered in the second swipe of Taehyung’s cum, and you fuck them in and out faster than Yoongi had been.

“Filthy,” Taehyung chokes out, clearly overwhelmed; another groan when Yoongi starts sucking at his neck, biting, claiming.

It’s primal, the way Taehyung reacts, the way Yoongi embeds himself under his skin, tries desperately to make a home there. Something permanent this time; or, at least, a home that won’t burn down like the last one. Won’t be reduced to a smoking heap of bitter ash. And you wonder, as you watch the way these two beautiful men fit together, if Taehyung will be holding the match or the key this time.

You press slow, open-mouthed kisses along the knots in Yoongi’s spine. Drizzle more lube on your fingers, work him open more. Whisper I know, baby, I know when he gets impatient and a little too demanding. Swap the condom on the strap-on and slick it up, just like last time, and then you’re pressing into Yoongi instead of Taehyung, the way you’ve done so many times before.

Everything is familiar and different: the drag, the pull, the noises spilling out of Yoongi’s mouth. Those staccato whines varied in pitch, sometimes drawn out and sometimes punched and short. This is what you know. This is your home, and you think, as Taehyung looks at Yoongi, so fucking endeared, as he gently cups his face, as he says—

“Hyung, you look so pretty. You’re doing so well, hyung, fuck, I didn’t think I’d ever see you like this again.”

—you think your house might look nice with an addition. An extra space carved out only for Taehyung. A room where Yoongi can exist in endless adoration.

“Make yourself useful, Kim Taehyung.”

Because Taehyung listens. Because Taehyung is good in all the ways that Yoongi is good, and he doesn’t have to be told twice when the order deals in Yoongi’s pleasure. So all of you adjust until Yoongi’s on his hands and knees, gripping tightly onto the headboard, and Taehyung shuffles down the bed until he can get his mouth on Yoongi’s cock.

“Fuck, yeah, just like that,” you say, and Taehyung moans at the praise, the vibrations making Yoongi gasp and jerk.

You know when you hit his prostate, too; know this is going to be over soon from the way he buries his face in the crook of his elbow and screams. You know it from the way he starts to shake. From the unintelligible filth that pours from his mouth as Taehyung swallows him all the way down. From the way he stutters out a, ba-baby, wha’bout you, gonna come like this, and you pet his hair, voice soft again when you say, this is for you, Yoongi, you can come, I know it’s so much.

There’s a final husky, drawn-out moan, and then there’s quiet.

Lucidity returns slowly.

The heat kicks on. A police siren wails in the distance, seven floors below you. You re-wet your cloth and do your best to clean the dried cum from Taehyung’s skin, your smile fond as he whines at the cold, tries to squirm away. Yoongi doesn’t move an inch, just collapses face-first onto the mattress and lets everyone fuss over him. Starts snoring a few minutes later, after you’ve pulled the duvet up to his ears and he’s tucked in and warm.

You move to the dresser. Pull out two t-shirts—oversized on you, tight in the shoulders on Taehyung—and clean underwear. And then you pause, because Taehyung’s already plucking his own clothes off the floor, already has his fucking socks and briefs on, and it’s… it doesn’t feel right, is the thing. Doesn’t feel like he should be leaving. Not tonight, maybe ever.

“Where are you going?” you ask, and you do a good job of keeping the hurt out, at sounding normal.

Taehyung doesn’t get it. Looks at you like you’re a little stupid and a lot crazy, because he looks at you, then at the world outside the window, and finally at Yoongi before answering. “I—leaving?”

“Why?”

Taehyung looks at you like you’re a lot stupid this time. “I don’t…” Pauses. Tries to sink into the floor to no avail. “Look, I think maybe this was a mistake? Hyung and I—I don’t think this is what he wants.”

“And how do you know what he wants?”

“Because we’re here,” he answers, anger seeping in. “Because I’m standing in your apartment. His girlfriend, and—”

You sigh. “If you want to leave, I’m not going to stop you, but I think it’d really hurt him if you left.” You leave off the again. It’s not your trauma to dredge up. Yoongi wouldn’t want you to, and that’s reason enough. “I would like it if you stayed, if that means anything.”

“The two of you are fucking weird,” he says again, but he looks less torn. Looks less like he would plow you over to get to the door, and it’s… progress. It’s good. You can work with a halfway thing. “Hyung would really—you think he wants me here?”

It’s spoken about in the way a broken thing always is: delicately, hesitantly, like Taehyung’s afraid of the answer, afraid to find out the results of this stupid game of his own design. “He does. It’s not my place to say much more than that, but I think the two of you are overdue for a conversation, if nothing else.”

Taehyung nods. Starts looking less and less like he’s out of place; starts looking like object permanence, takes a corporeal form within the four walls of your bedroom. “There’s space here for you,” you say, with the amount of care words like these require, “if you want it.”

“What does that mean?”

“Whatever you want it to. Nothing has to be decided right now, but I know Yoongi. You know him, too. I just don’t want to see him hurt again.”

Taehyung nods again. Peels his socks off. “You’re sure?” he asks, and when you nod, he climbs back into bed, seems to somehow know which side of the bed is Yoongi’s, two magnets drawn together. Something inevitable.

You breathe out a sigh. Finally slip the t-shirt and underwear on. Flick the lamp off and let yourself have a minute to enjoy the calm, Yoongi’s body heat next to you, still snoring softly between you and Taehyung. And then, because you can’t resist—

“You two are really fucking stupid, you know that?”

You hear Taehyung swallow. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles, sounding the part of a scolded child, and as much as you try not to, you’re smiling again, fond and endeared, into the dark. “I know.”

“Okay. Go to sleep, Tae. I expect a very nice thank you gift in the morning.”

It doesn’t happen in the morning. Not really.

It happens sometime in the middle of the night. The light streaming in through the sheer curtains gives away nothing more than silver-amber light, the moon and the city. Could be minutes since you fell asleep, could be hours; all you know is Yoongi’s at your back, arm slung possessively over your middle, and his heat is stifling.

“Yoongi,” you hiss, because it’s not just his heat. He’s hard again, cock pressing against the swell of your ass just like it was in the club, and you feel him smile against your neck when he realizes you’re awake. Feel him rock his hips, just a little.

He nips at your lobe, your jaw. “Hi, baby,” he says, like this is just another morning. Like he’s about to present your favorite mug to you, coffee fixed exactly how you like it. “Why didn’ you wake me up?”

“For what?” you breathe out, voice already wavering. All Yoongi has done is skim his warm hands under your oversized t-shirt, swirl a finger around your navel.

Yoongi tuts. Feels weird to be on this side of it, the illusion of condescension. “To fuck you. Make you come. You didn’t earlier.”

“I meant what I said—”

“I know you did,” Yoongi interjects, “but I don’t find that to be a very acceptable excuse.”

You roll your eyes, no heat in it, but then Yoongi’s hand moves to the hem of your underwear and slips inside. Your hips jerk when he moves two fingers lightly over your clit, jerk again when he finds you already wet and groans deep and husky into your ear. And it’s not loud, but it’s loud for this room at whatever-the-fuck time it is. “Gotta be quiet,” you whisper to him, and he laughs, thinks you’re joking. “I’m serious,” you say, and you want to sound authoritative but it comes out as a whine when he sinks those fingers into your cunt.

“Why would I need to be quiet?” he asks. Crooks them as best he can from this weird angle, you on your side with your back pressed to him, Yoongi halfway on top of you. “Shouldn’t I be loud?” He hits a spot that whites your vision. “Shouldn’t everyone in this fucking place hear it?”

Usually you wouldn’t care. Your apartment building has heard worse, including whatever debauchery the three of you had gotten up to mere hours ago, but—“Taehyung’s asleep.”

Yoongi startles, goes still. “What?”

“What.”

“What d’you mean Taehyung’s asl…” You feel him turn. Feel him realize, for the first time, that there is a very-asleep Taehyung on his other side, and you want to ask how he hadn’t noticed before, want to say didn’t you realize how cramped this bed is, it’s not big enough for three people, we’ll have to get a new one, but. Yoongi hadn’t expected him to stay, hadn’t expected it to even be an option, so of course it would’ve been a blind spot.

Your heart cracks in half again.

“What’d you say to him?” he asks. Not accusing, almost awed, like you knew a code, the secret passcode to getting Taehyung to stay that Yoongi hadn’t had before.

You reach back, find Yoongi’s hair. Scratch gently at his scalp. “Just that I thought you’d like it if he stayed. That’s it, nothing else. I wouldn’t.”

“I know, I wasn’t…” He sucks in a deep breath, holds it, lets it go. He’s okay. “This is okay with you?”

A laugh spills out of you. “You’re asking me that now? I was nearly fist-deep in his ass a few hours ago but him sleeping in our bed is crossing some kind of line?”

“Sex can be different,” Yoongi argues, “and it’s me, you know, like it’s my hangup, not yours—”

“I want you to be happy,” you answer honestly. “Whatever that looks like. I told him there’s room for him here if he wants it, but they’re not my knots to untangle. If he wants to stick around, if you two can get your shit together… we’ll figure it out. It only needs to make sense to us.”

Silence. Then—“I don’t think I’ve ever been this hard in my fucking life,” Yoongi groans. “Jesus Christ.”

“I should’ve known hyung was the type to get a boner from open and honest communication.”

Yoongi startles again at the low rasp of Taehyung’s voice. “And that’s exactly why I said I fuck him better than you,” you fire at him, deadpan. He laughs. You don’t have to look at Yoongi to know how red he’s turned.

“You said that to him?” he chokes out, all mortified disbelief, at the same time Taehyung says, “Maybe you’ve got a point, angel.”

The mattress sinks under Taehyung’s weight as he shuffles closer to the two of you. Must touch Yoongi somehow, because there’s a high-pitched whine from the back of his throat, so loud in your ear, has heat coursing through you. “Finish what you started, hyung,” Taehyung says, and Yoongi’s nod is jerky, his hands uncoordinated under Taehyung’s watchful stare.

Yoongi moves over you fully, wastes no time before he’s working his fingers in and out at a steady rhythm, sucking at your skin. Taehyung groans quietly, doesn’t need to be told a goddamn thing; rids you of your shirt so Yoongi can mouth his way from your jaw to your neck, collarbones to chest, one nipple and then the next. Pleasure licks up your spine, outweighs how overwhelming it is to have Yoongi this geared-up, wound this tight; to have Taehyung’s hands roaming over every inch of skin his hyung doesn’t have his mouth on.

“Yoo-Yoongi,” you choke out, because this has really gone from zero to a hundred and he’s been pressing incessantly on your g-spot for too long to remain unaffected.

It’s building, building, building, and you’ve fully lost control of your hips, grinding against the heel of Yoongi’s palm like you’re desperate for it. (You are.) And Taehyung just laughs darkly, says, “Think she’s gonna come, hyung,” just to get under your skin.

“Mm, yeah. Might make a mess.” He slaps at your clit and that’s it, that’s what does it.

And Yoongi knows you, doesn’t he, because he knows how you like to get fucked. Knows to click his tongue at you, give you that disappointed look; knows to wipe your release on your thighs. Knows to barely let you catch your breath before he’s slipping on a condom and pushing inside of you.

After his fingers, the stretch from his cock feels dizzying. Feels on the edge of too much, and Taehyung’s commentary is doing fuck-all to help you come back to earth. Keeps saying shit like goddamn, hyung, yeah, fuck her like that. Maneuvers you so your back is pressed to his chest, now, your head on his shoulder, so Yoongi can slip his tongue into Taehyung’s mouth while he ruins you. It’s filthy, it’s so fucking filthy, and you think, selfishly, that a room won’t be big enough. You’d build Taehyung an entire goddamn house to keep it like this, to keep the three of you safe in this bubble.

“Imagine, hyung,” Taehyung starts, and you know what comes out of his mouth next is going to be nasty. Yoongi knows it, too, eyes starting to go glassy. A million constellations reflected as he looks at the two of you. “If we fucked her at the same time. Both of us in that tight pussy. Our cocks togeth—”

You’re not sure if the deafening moan comes from you or Yoongi. Either way, his hips falter, cadence reduced to stuttered thrusts as he tries desperately not to come just from Taehyung spewing more filth out of his devilish mouth. But you want to see it. Want to see what happens when he’s pushed to the brink of horny delirium, so you say—

“Do it.”

—and Yoongi has to stop altogether. Grips your hips so hard you know they’ll bruise, and you think, for a second, that he actually did come. Everything is quiet for a second, just more labored breathing, and then Yoongi picks his head up. Looks more fucked-out than you’ve ever seen him, even more than earlier, and looks straight at Taehyung.

“Put your fingers in her.”

Taehyung breathes harshly through his nose. Waits for you to nod, give him the okay, and then his hands leave your hair and skim down your body. They’re so warm, so large, cover so much skin that it truly feels like he’s everywhere, like it’s more than just him touching you. The closer he nears to your cunt, the more overpowering it is, the harder it is to breathe.

“Is this what you want, angel?” he asks, words warm on your skin as he presses them just below your ear. “You’re a greedy girl, getting hyung’s cock and my fingers.” He rubs circles into your clit, sends you spiraling. You’re dangerously close to a second orgasm (could be a third, could be a hundredth, considering Yoongi never let you come down from the first) and there’s a split-second right before he dips his fingers into your cunt, works them in alongside Yoongi’s cock, that you feel engulfed.

Everything is on fire.

You, most of all.

Taehyung sucks his fingers into his mouth, gets ‘em wet, works in slowly. Just his middle finger at first, and Yoongi falters again, moans out an oh fuuuck that betrays exactly how far gone he is. And you aren’t far behind, the stretch from both of them unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. You can’t imagine how it’d feel if it was more than just Taehyung’s fingers, except you can, and Taehyung notices when the thought has you clenching, has you a little wetter, because he laughs at you, tells Yoongi like he can’t tell on his own. Like your boyfriend is a little dumb, like he’s never fucked you before, and that does something to both of you.

One finger turns into two. Yoongi’s a fucking mess, absolutely gone of the feel of them inside you, against his cock, can’t stop moaning. The tight fit has Taehyung’s fingers pressed snug against your g-spot, exactly how Yoongi’s had been, and it’s too much. Too much.

“I’m, fuck—I’m gonna—”

When you come it feels like the end of the world. It feels like rapture. It feels like every atom in your body has been rearranged, like the gods themselves are rewarding you specifically with the sound of Yoongi following right behind you, moaning low and ragged, spilling into the condom.

In the comedown, he kisses you—soft, tender, with every iota of love and affection contained in him. “I love you,” he says. Presses another kiss to the corner of your mouth. “You okay?”

“Not sure,” you answer honestly. “Give me three to five business days to decide.”

Yoongi’s smile is shy, almost embarrassed. More gums than anything else. Behind you, the rumble of Taehyung’s laughter against your back, rattling your ribs. Rattling your heart, maybe, lodged safely between them.

It expands, makes more room—the one for Taehyung, that house—and Yoongi’s lips find Taehyung’s next and you know it’ll be okay. These two stupid boys, they’ll figure it out, put a cease fire to their foolish game.

Yeah, something inevitable.

as always, thank you for reading! my inbox is always open if you’d like to leave feedback. i’d love to hear your thoughts! ❤

#bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts smut #yoongi imagine #yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #taehyung imagine #taehyung smut #taehyung x reader #yoongi fanfic #taehyung fanfic #bts fanfic #btscarnivalnet #kvanity #btswritersclub #btshoneyhive

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dublinskeetz · 4 months

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could you maybe do a fic (don’t worry if you can’t 🫶🏼) with eli or bobby maybe enemies to lovers and the person is the band’s photographer or is on keys 🤍🤍

𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐞

hii ofc, i wasnt sure if u wanted a smau or written soo i sort of did both since the reader is their photographer, hope u like it!! this is my first tumblr fic so im still getting used to how to work the app lollll, sorry if u don't like it but pls give me ur thoughts so i can learn to improve JAJA

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 — 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘳'𝘴 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘱𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘣𝘣𝘺 𝘴𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘻 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘴 𝘨𝘳𝘶𝘥𝘨𝘦𝘴

𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦 — 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘵𝘢𝘥 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵, 𝘣𝘰𝘣𝘣𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘵, 𝘣𝘰𝘣𝘣𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵 𝘢𝘧, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘺𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘰𝘣𝘣𝘺'𝘴 #1 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴

𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 — 𝘣𝘰𝘣𝘣𝘺 𝘴𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘻 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

yourusername

liked by ryanmcmahon_15 and others

yourusername dropping these flicks in honor of my fav boys (and bobby ig) letting me join them on tour to take cute pics of them 🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️

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joshjenkinson_ WOOO after months of begging

yourusername a little begging doesnt hurt when i have to spend months with devils spawn joshjenkinson_ bobby loves u dw bobbyskeetz why do you automatically think shes talking about me bobbyskeetz and i do not

bobbyskeetz so thrilled to have you.

inhalerfan1 wtf why is she always hating on bobby he does nothing wrong to her!!! how about you leave and like never speak to him again.🙄🙄

inhalerfan2 saying this doesnt make bobby want u any more! bobbyskeetz how about you leave her alone? ryanmcmahon_15 aw look at u protecting her

elijahhewson the crowd erupts in cheers

yourusername by crowd u mean u, josh, and ryan LMAFO elijahhewson and bobby he just wont admit it

inhalerfan300 something abt the boys getting their pics taken by a sexy woman makes them even sexier tbh

liked by elijahhewson, ryanmcmahon_15 and 30 others

inhalerfan11 fuc the guys I WANT U

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"say, cheese!"

your lens shuttering was heard throughout the tour bus, trying to take candid, but not candid at the same time, pictures of the boys. tour was great, amazing even. you felt at peace when taking pictures of the band in their natural element. whether it be on stage, at a pub, or even just at time when it was just one on one hangouts. except, for bobby

bobby skeetz, you didn't know what you had done to make the boy dislike you from the moment he laid eyes on you. maybe it was your personality, the possibility to get on with everyone around you, happiness radiating off of you. or perhaps it was one night stand you had with him 4 years ago. but you chose to pick the former as the reason.

it didn't matter what you tried, his anger, regret, or whatever he felt never seemed to ease.

despite telling them to smile, bobby still had a grim look on his face, clearly wanting to be anywhere else but in front of you. rolling your eyes, you lowered your camera, dismissing the guys from the lens.

as the boys one by one retreated to their own areas, bobby stuck sitting in front of you as you placed your equipment away. you could feel his eyes watching you as you worked, and you found he often did this. though you could never force yourself to look back up at him, knowing his eyes would probably be full of dislike.

"is there something you need robert," you asked him, getting closer and closer to being fed up with his acts.

"no, just thinking."

"of?"

"why we would need another photographer when we already had lewis."

rolling you eyes, why do i even bother, thinking to yourself.

hiding behind a door was josh, ryan, and eli, silently watching the two of you interact. "i bet you they get together by the end of the tour," ryan spoke.

"oh you are so on McMahhon."

"dunno, maybe you should ask your mates. you didn't seem to complain too much when they asked me, repeatedly," you argued.

there was a thick tension in the air, these petty fights between the two of you were normal at this point, and despite your attempts to be professional, his pettiness was starting to get to you.

in reality, you didn't mind bobby at all, in fact, you felt a pull towards him. but ever since that mistake, that for some reason he can't seem to forget, he has made his presence unbareable.

"why must you make everything so difficult," you sighed, frustration evident in your tone as you continued to pack away your equipment.

"i'm not the one making things difficult, thats your speciality, isn't it," he snapped back. there was a mix of annoyance and indifference in his expression as he starred at you. "or maybe its the fact that you love to pretend nothing happened."

"what the hell are you talking about," you spoke, your patience so close to breaking.

bobby scoffed, "oh please, you know exactly what i'm talking about. four years ago when you left me!"

there was a heavy silence between the two of you, could he seriously be holding onto the past for that long? was this really the reason why he hated you so much? you can admit, you have your regrets on the way those things played out, but what were you supposed to do? act like sleeping with him didn't hurt you in ways you didn't even know you could hurt? the way he easily uttered those words to you, this doesn't mean anything, does it? it pained you, so really, what were you supposed to do?

but you were never really good with your emotions, so frustration bubbled inside you, "fine, you want to hold onto the past? go ahead, keating. but don't act like i'm the only one at fault here."

your heated exchange echoed throughout the bus, leaving an uncomfortable silence. but meanwhile, the other three boys exchanged knowing looks.

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yourusername

liked by elijahhewson and others

yourusername tours almost ova so heres some flicks to prepare u for the drought

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elijahhewson pay up ryan

ryanmcmahon_15 ITS NOT OVER YET SHUT UP yourusername meaning?? elijahhewson NOTHING ryanmcmahon_15 NOTHING

inhalerfan11 NOOOO

inhalerfan23 god i have seen what u have done for others

trumanblack come take some flicks for us?

elijahhewson no joshjenkinson_ no bobbyskeetz shes all yours mate ryanmcmahon_15 rob shut up before i leak some information that i find very important. bobbyskeetz YOU WOULD NEVER joshjenkinson_15 TRY US bobbyskeetz JOSH NOT YOU TOO yourusername OIII all of u. out my comment section

inhalerdublin twas an honor having u with us, and for the rest of the tours!🤗🤗

inhalerdublin whos us? yourusername robert get out

inhalerfan100 why do i get the gut sense that her and bobby do not like each other?

inhaler203 i dont think so, i was at their last shows and he complete heart eyes for her liked by ryanmcmahon_15 and joshjenkinson_ inhaler203 RYAN JOSH WHAT DO U KNOW inhaler100 their my enemies to lovers trope

oliviarodrigo im going on tour soon babes if u need a job😉😉

yourusername omg.

inhaler45 im living for this comment section

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throughout the remaining of the tour, there was an uncomfortable tension between you and bobby, and with the last dates coming up, you weren't sure if you wanted to come back.

but then again, you were confused.

after your last blow with the bassist, there was a peace between the two of you, if thats what you could even call it. he no longer took every opportunity to be petty, in fact, you hadn't spoken a word to the man since.

but you saw the tweets, the comments, and even noticed the other three members of the band acting funny when the two of you were in close proximity. the possible thought that bobby felt anything to you besides utter dislike, felt impossible.

the group of you were lounging around before the boys had to go onstage, and you could still feel bobby's eyes piercing at you from behind. despite the other's chatter, there was still an underlying discomfort from the two of you. his gaze lingered on you, and looking back towards him, you noticed there was a mixture of frustration and something else.

attempting to break the silence, you sighed in defeat, "what's wrong with you now, rob?"

there was a moment of hesitation on his part, jaw clenching, "it's nothing," he muttered, but his tone said otherwise.

"doesn't seem like it," you countered. you were tired of fighting with him, you just wanted peace for the remainder of the tour. "look, tour is almost over and can we at least try to-"

but he interrupted you before you could even finish, "try to what? pretend like everything is okay," his voice laced with bitterness, "like nothing happened?"

you sighed in defeat, feeling an oncoming argument brewing, "you cannot keep dwelling on the past rob," you pleaded, trying to keep your voice steady, "what happened was a mistake, for you," you emphasized, "and for me."

"a mistake," he scoffed, "you're acting like it meant nothing, like i meant nothing."

there was a clear tone of hurt and resentment in his voice, his words cutting deeper than you could've imagined, "that is not fair rob," you whispered, looking away from his eyes. trying to avoid his gaze, you noticed the room had cleared, the three boys' chatter no longer being background noise to your conversation.

those little shits.

bobby noticed your avoidance, "you just left, without a word," he continued, his voice filled with an ache that mirrored your own. "do you have any idea how much that hurt?"

the weight of his accusations hung heavily in the air, did he really have no idea of how much he hurt you too? how much you look back to that night and wish things were normal between the two of you.

"it wasn't easy for me either," you confessed, voice barley audible. "but what did you expect me to do? especially after what you said."

the atmosphere became thick with emotion, your unsaid words confusing him.

"what are you going on about?"

"really? 'this doesn't mean anything'," you scoffed, your hidden emotions rising to the surface, "do you know how heartbreaking those four words were? god, do you know how many nights i spent thinking about that. then here you come accusing me of being at fault."

his eyes softened at your confession, "i didn't know. you never said."

"i thought you knew," you cut him off, "i shouldn't have to tell you how harmful your words were."

"i didn't know," he spoke softly, getting up and standing in front of you, looking down at you into your eyes, "you could've told me. i would have been there for you.

"and what would have you done? hm?" you quipped as you looked away, anger and ache still inside your tone.

he softly grabbed your chin for you to look back up at him, "i would've told you how stupid i was, how scared. you have no idea how afraid i was of it ruining everything, and look at us now, look at what it's done to us. look at what my stupidity has done to us. i would've been there for you, through everything because i love you."

your breath hitched, utter surprise written all over your face, a small smile beginning to spread across your face, "i love you, and you aren't stupid. its just your pettiness," you spoke, trying to make the conversation lighter.

"oi, you're one to talk woman," he laughed, cupping your cheek to pull you into a kiss.

and as if it was right out of a corny soap opera, you heard a cheery whistle from the side of you. turning you were met with those three little shits with grins on their faces, well except eli, who looked completely defeated.

"as much as i am happy for the two of you coming to your senses," ryan began, turning to eli, "pay up, hewson."

eli groaned in frustration, pulling out cash from his pocket and placing it onto the ryan and josh's outstretched palms.

"you shits placed a bet on us?" bobby questioned.

"was an easy bet, after you drunkenly confessed your love to me a few nights before tour," josh explained to you two.

bobby's cheeks heated up, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. "is that what your silly comments on my posts meant?" you asked the trio.

"uh, look at the time! c'mon keating, time to perform!"

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yourusername

liked by bobbyskeetz and others

yourusername that one AM lyric about looks of love or smth

view all 4930 comments

inhalerfan43 OHMYGODAD

inhalerfan111 THE HARDLAUNCH IM DYIGNAKE

bobbyskeetz this damaging my rep woman

yourusername k bobbyskeetz haha i was just kidding bobbyskeetz i love you elijahhewson robert keating has emotions??

inhalerfan23 ive lost the love of my life to a guy who plays bass...

yourusername he's dorky ways and sassiness has captivated me bobbyskeetz HEY

ryanmcmahon_15 WAR IS OVERRRR

inhalerfan2 hes one of us fr yourusername dont think i've forgotten abt ur little bet dipshit ryanmcmahon_15 uh.... liked by joshjenkinson_, elijahhewson and 80 others

bobbyskeetz my woman

yourusername ur so babygirl i love u

bobbyskeetz THE LOOK OF LOVE THE RUSH OF BLOOD, THE SHES WITH MES

joshjenkinson_ this was so worth him talking my ear off about u

bobbyskeetz OI

inhalerfan432 HIS LOVE STARE IN THE LAST PIC IM SOBBING

inhalerfan00 im soooo normal abt them ahhahahahahahah

inhalerfan12 shes one of us fr

yourusername oh fs inhalerfan12 HI MOTHER

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THE END

omg sooo lmk if u guys enjoyed this? pls i haven't written in so long so sorry it took be a bit to release this

also if theres any error in the format or anything i apologize cause im still getting used to writing on tumblr

lots of loveeeee <333

#robert keating x reader #bobby skeetz #bobby skeetz x reader #bobby skeetz imagine #inhaler #inhaler fic #inhaler imagine #enemies to lovers #fanfic #sunshine x grumpy #x reader

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inhonoredglory · 5 days

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i dont know if you partake in any of the doctor who comics at all - i certainly dont. i like keeping my sanity safe (its a mess of strange stories and paradoxes from what ive been able to tell. as are most comic series). but recently there was one that elaborated a bit on rose and the metacrisis’s life post journeys end, and its one of the few pieces of media we have for them. i didnt care enough to read the whole thing, the only interesting part to me was apparently they had a little girl named mia, and ive been thinking abt that dynamic nonstop since. cant decide how realistic it is for them, but on the otherside augh its so sweet. anyway, i just wanted to ask how you feel about rose and the metacrisis in general, and whatever that entails. curious abt ur thoughts on them!

- armin anon/lesbian anon/whatever you feel like calling me lol

OMGG my anon (of many names lol)! OK first off, I drafted some of this way back but forgot to add on and post, so in the words of our beloved Doctor,

🌹 But onto the DW comics and Meta-Crisis/Rose!!

I only recently started reading the comics, starting with the ones about Gabby Gonzalez by Nick Abadzis, and I have to admit:

They make me yearn pretty fucking hard to run away and travel with the Doctor. There's some killer art by Elena Casagrande that feels so much like the Doctor we know and love (that kindness, that earnest love.... god!! my heart and soul!!).

But I warn ye (any readers of this post), DO NOT TOUCH Volume 2 by Robbie Morrison. He takes Ten blatantly out of character, making him out to be an arrogant bastard who belittles his companion and is flippant in the face of suffering. (Morrison watched too much Eleven, methinks 🙈)

I haven't read the Rose/Meta-Crisis comic yet (part of the Empire of the Wolf series), but I did see the important panel from that series, showing Rose's daughter Mia:

I think the Meta-Crisis settling down to have a family with Rose is pretty in-character and very much what the Tenth Doctor would have wanted, as much as it hurt him.

Because Ten fundamentally felt unworthy of Rose.

💔 The Doctor's Trauma

Rose was strong and compassionate and amazing, and Ten had done so much, seen so much, experienced so much tragedy and guilt. He's a man wrecked by PTSD, depression, shame, and self-blame. He felt like it wasn't fair to her that she'd sacrifice her life to someone who would go on living and changing and becoming a different person, while she grew old and died in a world without a home and away from everyone she knew.

He didn't want her to become like him, homeless and without the love of friends and family, because to be him is to be alone. And he didn't want that for her. Because he wanted her to be happy, not just momentarily, but for the rest of her life.

Ten is a man who loathes taking life, and it weighs on him every time someone sacrifices who they are because they love him.

It's no surprise Ten's entire decision about the Meta-Crisis took place after Davros massively guilt-tripped him into thinking it was his fault that all those people died. (It wasn't.) But Davros played on Ten's depression and trauma, manipulating Ten into thinking he had done unforgivable things to the people he loved. (when in fact those people died because they were inspired to be selfless like him, or were killed someplace beyond the Doctor's reach)

I've actually been doing a lot of research on Ten's trauma (including invaluable insight from Judith Lewis Herman's famous book Trauma and Recovery). This journal article about Major Depressive Disorder speaks so deeply to Ten's character, especially post-Time War and post-Davros:

"Guilt promotes altruistic behavior via acting out reparative tendencies, whereas shame reduces altruism by means of increasing social and interpersonal distance."

This explains so much about Ten's choice to sacrifice his own happiness and ask Rose to take his Meta-Crisis as her life partner. He's pushing her away, isolating himself. He's rejecting the people he loves the most because he's in a very, very dark place.

🖤🤍💜 An Asexual (Meta) Reading

There's so many reasons that Ten felt he couldn't give Rose the life she wanted (his trauma, his values). There's one angle I've been sifting around in my head in the past couple years, and it's more of a headcanon than anything: For me, because of the way the Doctor's character has been established since 1963, the Doctor's own asexuality is an almost meta-conceptual reason why the Doctor in general can't have a "normative," family life.

He couldn't say "I love you"—not because he didn't love her. (He loved her more than he ever loved himself.) But also because he knew what saying those words would mean: the expectations, the responsibility, the behaviors he felt she deserved to have from him because those words carry so much weight in human culture. All those things he could not give her.

But the Meta-Crisis could. I personally headcanon that the Meta-Crisis is not asexual like the Doctor. (Just like John Smith may not have been asexual either.) The point of both John Smith and the Meta-Crisis is showing how much they differ from the Doctor—and I think sexuality is one of those differences. It's why it was so easy for John Smith to imagine a traditional life, why it was so easy for the Meta-Crisis to promise his entire world and his entire self to Rose on that beach.

🌹 The Meta-Crisis and Rose Tyler

Which brings me back to the Tentoo himself. He was born in battle and he can die, but what does that exactly mean for his life with Rose? It's fascinating because to imagine the Doctor feeling mortality and knowing he cannot cheat death anymore—that's a horrific, terrifying thing.

There are actually two Big Finish Audios that explore this traumatic realization for the Doctor, and what that does to him. (They're both one-shots from Jackie's POV and narration, and you can listen to them here: Part 1, Part 2).

It makes Tentoo lean into his Ninth-era darkness, a ruthlessness to villains driven by the fear that he cannot protect Rose because he is not indestructible. But luckily for him, there are people he loves around him (Jackie and Rose) who keep him from that darkness.

Additionally, the Big Finish stories lean into the fact that Tentoo and Rose aren't sitting idly by. Both of them work for Torchwood and are growing their own TARDIS to continue to defend the Earth.

They don't settle down into a domestic life, at least not right away, and I think that suits them both. We know how much Rose didn't want the life of eating chips and watching telly. But listen to what RTD's Doctor Who has always tried to say: How deeply important the everyday things are, how much the Doctor, for how amazing they are, craves for a life of simplicity and the stupid little things that define humanity.

Because here's the key: It wasn't the everyday things that bothered Rose. Like she told Mickey in "Parting of the Ways":

ROSE: But what do I do every day, mum? What do I do? Get up, catch the bus, go to work, come back home, eat chips and go to bed? Is that it? MICKEY: It's what the rest of us do. ROSE: But I can't! MICKEY: Why, because you're better than us? ROSE: No, I didn't mean that. But it was. It was a better life. And I don't mean all the travelling and seeing aliens and spaceships and things. That don't matter. The Doctor showed me a better way of living your life. You know he showed you too. That you don't just give up. You don't just let things happen. You make a stand. You say no. You have the guts to do what's right when everyone else just runs away

Rose didn't hate the domestic, everyday life. She hated how life had no meaning.

She hated how people let things happen to them, without challenging anything or standing up for anything. She didn't want to travel as much as she wanted to live, to be something and do something with her life.

And that's the magic of Doctor Who, particularly RTD's era. Because you can be amazing and you can have meaning even without the Doctor, but the Doctor shows you how.

You stand up for what you believe is right and you choose to give meaning to what you do in life. You don't need to travel the stars to do that. You can make choices that give your life meaning right here and now. You can believe in something. You can find meaning in your place in the universe. You can give your enthusiasm and time to something that is important. Meaning and purpose comes from how we see the world, and that change in perspective is what Rose finds with the Doctor.

If Rose is with someone who can fill her life with meaning, who inspires her to see life as a beautiful adventure, then it really doesn't matter what she's doing with them. In The Impossible Planet, Rose was completely willing to settle down with Ten to "find a planet, get a job, live a life, same as the rest of the universe." Why? Because she'd be with him.

ROSE: This lot said they'd give us a lift. DOCTOR: And then what? ROSE: I don't know. Find a planet, get a job, live a life, same as the rest of the universe.

If I imagine Tentoo as a dad, I can't help but imagine him like Tennant himself. Kind, giving, selfless, and loving. I think Tentoo would be so afraid of letting someone hurt his child, because he hasn't had a family in so long, and he isn't the same man he was in those ancient days when, as a completely different man, he had a family.

He's a man still afraid of himself, still keenly aware of the inhuman things he's capable of. I think this fear would drive Rose and him closer together, like it did when he was Nine. But Tentoo is more self-aware now, more willing to grow and change and be different. Because he's the Doctor who was given a second chance, to live the life he thought he'd never have with the person he loves. He wants to be different to make this work.

I also think Tentoo would be the Doctor who passes on his title after he's gone. Not that I like to think about Tentoo dying one day, but let's be real: Where would his TARDIS go? As a half-human, I think Tentoo could imagine Mia taking on the role of Defender of the Earth when he and Rose have passed on. She would have been there to see it grow, and she would have been there when Tentoo and Rose first stepped out into the stars with this brand-new TARDIS. Because of his mortality, I think it would make Tentoo more open to sharing the secret, sacred things of his Gallifreyan people with the family he chose to start. He's not alone anymore, he has someone to share it with, someone who will pass it on after him and keep the world safe in his stead.

Which is all to say, I think it's a gift that Rose has the Meta-Crisis. Because when Ten regenerated and became, as he said, a completely different man, she was able to stay with the person she fell in love with and explore what that life was like, to have him with her for all of her life, and all of his.

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ladytyburn · 8 months

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sorry for rambling in your inbox out of nowhere but re: your recent tags i have so many thoughts abt that whole thing sjdjfs

personally i always interpreted gaara's sand mother situation as being like, she imbued the sand with her will to protect him somehow?? (my hc would probably be by putting some of her chakra in it since we never actually find out how) so its not so much her ghost but a tool she created for him.... if that makes sense.... so the sand isn't sentient but it does behave on it's own to protect him, bc he controls almost all of it's movement but it still blocks attacks when he's unconscious or didn't see whatever it was, but it'd be more like some kind of magic shield. this is more of a hc though because the way it's described is actually really vague.

the scar he did do that to himself but he used the sand bc it blocked the knife he tried to hurt himself with before (😭) but seems like it can't block itself? which is interesting too..... and god yeah that confrontation with his father hits so hard jdjfsjdf the artwork in the manga especially, his expression breaks my heart.... ;_;

Dw I love rambling!!

I just like the interpretation that the sand is a representation of his subconsciousness because it adds insight into the mind of an otherwise very ... how do i say it... unexpressive?? character? (Thats not really correct but I cant say it better rn sry!) As in: Sometimes the sand expresses what Gaara can not speak, and I think that's neat.

The sand not being the will of his mom adds more agency to him, which feels a bit lacking in Naruto the show to me (I didn't like the whole reincarnation/fate thing, and it also shows in stuff like the prior Mizukage being controlled etc.), and I just think that moments like Gaara marking "love" into his forehead and initiating the handshake with Naruto and using the shape of his mom to trap his dad have so much more gravitas if it's a reflection of his character, and not potentially the doing of someone else.

But I like your interpretation too, since it basically says that the sand is only "ordered to protect gaara" and all the other stuff is Gaara doing it himself. That works with how I like to interpret it. :)

While we're kind of on the topic: In the beginning (at least in the anime?) it was said that Gaaras dark circles are a sideffect of not sleeping properly, as to not accidentally set free shuukaku.

1) I dislike that Rasa shares Gaaras dark eyes, that leaves the impression that they are genetic.

2) I like to imagine that the dark circles would get better once Gaara learns to sleep better, and that he only still has them because he still has trouble sleeping (from duties as Kazekage and trauma)...

What do you think???

Anyways thank you for letting me spill my thoughts here <3

#i love the little guy #blorbo #naruto #gaara

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skybristle · 5 months

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more sparks please. girl what happened to you and do i have to kill anyone

rbs > likes

These two. dw shes already fucking them up. hashtag feminism! [they are also both women]

these two n what they do to her [i wont go fully into it but just elaborae since i already summarized it here in my post abt maw but]. yeah. When she was constructed she was a very ambitious iterator and very. jittery and eager to help her kind and very very radiant. probably the perfect iterator!

of course.... as ive probably heavily alluded to ash is a POS ! as her senior, and the only one in their group at the time, she looks to him for guidance and feels so terrible finding out how fucked up he is with his own colony and how he is struggling to bear it [he IS depressed and chronically ill however also just. has zero accoutnability or responsibility whatsoever and refuses to recongize his mistakes ever or consider his actions beyond what he receives from them] so of course as they fall for eachther and she helps him shoulder his burden he simply takes it for granted and does little to return the favor. its soo unbalanced and unhealthy but sparks is just trying and trying because god !! she wants to be good !! she wants to help people !!! so fucking bad!!!

but shes left bleeding alone, in an overextended structure as they operate on her while shes awake, overclocking her systems and sendinf electricity like lightning down her puppet, he basically messages maw Once to try and get her to knock it off before falling back into his patter nof laziness like welp! did what i can do ! and has the audacity to whine to sparks about feeling inadequate. and she really has no choice but to get back up and dust herself off and live with this reality, which persists quite literally forever, even if its less stressful when her colony eventually leaves. and she stays stuck in this delusion that ash couldnt have done any more and that it was just unfortunate and.. he still needs her help she cant leave him in the dust [what did he do to her again?].

especially as their local group slowly grows and he kind of refuses to accept the responsibility so sparks is also shouldering mentorship and taking care of them and etc. the only exception really is whispers who isnt allowed to speak to sparks because their colony is an asshole so they grow close to their designated senior and ash actually does take the kid kinda under his wing as much as he sucks, mainly at sparks concerns initially.

shes also. super badly traumatized by maw and a lot of that fear and paranoia echo especially later on when maw *actually hurts another iterator*. shes well aware how much maw resents her and maw is the only thing to really scare her. over time sparks loses her whimsy and just becomes very calcualted and dilligent. takes little pleasure in it anymore but if shes not working shes nothing, even as she makes her issues and overextension worse she hasnt rested in ages.

once mass ascension happens and ash bascialyl goes 'welp im done. see ya'll' now that nobody is literally there to make him do his job and goes into sleepmode completely disregarding all the work sparks has done for their group and for *him* not just to appease his colony on his behalf thats when she finally breaks this delusion she has and fucking snaps. she still is kidn of in the position where now shes FORCED To hold authority because hes gone but doesnt bother to try with those who dont answer to her. shes just so angry and frustrated and just workaholics it all away but its really. its not helpful long term and this anger is just building as things in their group get worse and worse as he sleeps in the distance none the wiser.

and, finally, when whisper's emergency broadcast rings true and all hell breaks loose- and he wakes up and the first thing he does is crawl back to sparks to make her do his shit again without even acknowledging his abandonment for many many kilocycles she just completely fucking loses it on him. dedicates herself to- rather than try to put ehr group back together and aid whispers, she just charges headfirst into hurting everyone whos ever hurt her. im still trying to figure out what goes on with maw but as for ash. she creates the brainiac to steal his seniority but also just hijack his structure in an incredibly painful manner. just so she can feel her pain. oh, and just like her, she wont have anyone to crawl to for sympathy [being needlessly cruel and ignoring others suffering? sounds a lot like maw. disregarding the needs of your group to chase a selfish goal as someone lay dying? sounds a lot like ash. lol. lmao even].

after she gets the seniority crown she starts having a guilt crisis. then whispers. uhm. Well. Escapes starlight's can and jumps in the void sea [ive been alluding to it this whole time but nobodies said anything so. ill just lay that here and let u guys react] she finally realizes how badly she fucked up [thats what makes her better than maw and ash] and what shes done and how much shes kind of fucked over her bridges with the people who actually cared about her [chimes and ochre especially] and. yeah. i need to piece out what happens after this still but i mean starlight and maw r still kicking around and sparks now has the responsibiltiy to do SOMETHING which would probably resul in violent retallion from at least maw and kick this bs and sparks hurt and anger up all over again. lol. lmao even.

#sky rambles #rain world #rain world oc #oc tag: countless swirling sparks #oc tag: plunging flows of ash #oc tag: erupting maw #story tag: bending horizons #<- just realized i should have a tag like that ill go back and add it to my other posts

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cervideity · 4 months

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YOUR IDEA ABOUT LINK HAVING DREAMS AS VIO IS SO COOL!!! IT'S SUCH A GOOD AND INTERESTING IDEA!!! I have to ask, how do you think Link feels when he wakes up from dreams where he's only one of his separate selves? How do dreams for Green, Red, and Blue tend to play out? Do they have dreams related to their trauma/personal baggage as well?

AWA THANK YOU GENUINELY UR FLATTERING ME.. i was struck by lightngihg. (inspiration, all at once.) Thank you for asking ! this inspired me to flesh out the idea more so here you go :]

Well my logic abt this is based in my own experiences, so id say Off the bat, disoriented. takes a bit to remember hes Link and not one of his parts. could take 5 to 25 minutes. yknow the kind of half asleepness where you dont know youre a person and everything that happened to dream you was Real. that. [perhaps he will seek relief in his companions, only to find them not there.]

if hes Jolted awake by maybe zelda or of his own volition (i can see the two sleeping in the same room for a while directly after the events of the manga. dont wanna lose track of one another n wanna take care of each other). the same but hed snap out of it faster. shed comfort him best she can and then theyd both get up and hang out for Realsies smile. based on what info we have on link im unsure if hed feel comfortable thinking about it too long. i think hed try to distract himself with training or talking with zelda or somethin before confronting that

anyways YEAH i think they would all have their own seprate nightmares, so links brain can process Everything that happened to all his parts. thats what dreams do, they help you file away memory, and links memory is going to be. pretty... fucked. it has to deal with 4 times the amount of information in a single span of time.

[i have a lot of ideas on link recovering (if he needs to) from re-fusion. but tthats for later. i dont really have a single interp its just a playground for me]

funny gif so u dont lose ur place reading. LOL.

some of these are more developed than the others. dw about it

green. i have a concept in my head of him and the others fighting ganon but they fall one by one until just green is left, i think i need to elaborate on that in my head... because of many events, i think green would get nightmares about the friends around him being controlled or secretly monsters.. or hurting a monster that was actually a friend. ahg.g.. grips my hands together so hard they turn white

i think red would have a great time in a nightmare specifically sporting that Fucking coffin, where he is all alone, knows internally (yknow when dreams do that? you dont see it happen you just Know) that all his friends are fucking dead. and he doesnt have his gear. and hes maybee in the temple of darkness and the spooky monsters know hes there and though they arent here yet its just a matter of time. and he needs to sit there and wait to die. because red cant fight back! hes the weakest link! (untrue these are his own thoughts) theres no one to save him, or even die with. he failed. (imagine him with that hopeless depressed expression he makes you know the one)

blue .... i honestly think The Cave on its own is a pretty good nightmare scenario for blue. an enemy you cant touch. a state where you cant move. (blue is a very physical person)........ maybe dreams where hes strapped down to a table or cant move or otherwise in a claustrophoic space. doesnt gotta be freezing just anything to represent paralysis. cuz that happened to him several times. maybe he can watch someone hurt his companions while hes stuck. (thinking of the several green+vio dying scares)

vio.let. this nightmare is the most specific because i saw it in my head before i came up with possible ideas. this dream is meant to process shadows death among other things, so i think itd be reoccuring. It starts with him wandering an empty hyrule castle. he doesnt cast a shadow. hes completely and utterly alone. He wanders room to room. Theres the idea that theres Something wrong in the back of his head. the dream could end here, or it could desend into nightmare territory, he stumbles into a long confusing maze of mirrors. he cant look anywhere but at his reflection, but theres nothing to look at, theyre motionless silohettes. he cant focus he cant make the maze make sense he cant figure out how to escape and he keeps panicking more and more in an internal loop but he doesnt know whats wrong whatd he do ? the final scene is something i didnt draw unfortunately, he finds the room with the dark mirror. his throat goes dry for a reason he doesnt know. he subconciously moves closer. its only the frame. he can step right through it. a portal to nowhere. usually the full weight of the situation clicks Right here and link jolts awake with tears in his eyes.

link also has nightmares where he Isnt these guys and is himself and those ones tend to be what they all experienced. theres a lot of My Loved Ones Are In Danger and i Cant Do Shit. Someone getting injured on his watch, being powerless in one way or another. Powerlessness is a running theme here, haha. I also think sometimes link would get fucked up dreams about being the one physically hurting innocent people. just to fuck with his idea of being a hero. :]

#im not a writer and im not very steady in my characterizations but im trying. i am images beast things make more sense when they are images!#hope you like it smile i try to be better w my interps all the time

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charliespringverse · 9 months

Text

iwbft – ghosted: a Bonus brief summary of my annotations

all highlighted quotes: 91

· ouch/ow/owie: 5

· real/felt/relatable/so true: 4

· ☹/☹☹/☹☹☹: 4

She said Shrek and Fiona, and then told me she never wanted to be famous. — the double life thing babeyy

“Jimmy,” he heaves out, and I feel a stab of panic in my chest. — just hearing ur friend's name shouldn't be enough to trigger panic unless u already know something is Very Wrong . at which point i feel they should've pushed for further help instead of finishing out the tour

“We can’t leave Jimmy out.” Lister stands shirtless in the middle of the room and spins around on the spot. — fuck yeah trio tingz :')

It almost makes me laugh how polite and casual Rowan manages to sound, despite the fact that our best friend is missing. — IT'S A DEFENCE MECHANISM!!!!!

I only wonder how much of it is my fault. — none of it bb dw :( he is Not With It enough to be thinking abt anyone but himself rn

“But I can’t drive.” Rowan stares at me. “I thought you had lessons.” “I only had three lessons.” And then I got bored, or tired, or busy, or all three. — ... adhd lister btw

Why would he do this to us? To me? — i think jimmy's dependence on rowan is more reciprocated than he realises

If we weren’t in a famous band together, I’m not sure whether we’d still be friends now. — this rly hurts my feelings and it hurts more bc he isn't necessarily Wrong i don't think

“You do know I can play eight instruments, right?” “But not the drums, huh.” Rowan folds his arms. “You will never let me live that down.” — LISTERROWAN BESTIEISM BANTER BABEY

“But you think I’m an idiot who has nothing intelligent to say.” “I don’t think that.” “Yeah, you do. You’d much rather I was the one who was missing right now.” Rowan doesn’t respond. We both know I’m right. — WELL MAYBE BUT U DON'T HAVE TO TELL ME THAT. I DON'T WANNA THINK ABOUT IT.

“I wish you wouldn’t—” he begins but is cut off when his phone buzzes. — i hate that the phone gave him a get out from being open n sincere w lister :^(

“That’s a Southeastern Railway train,” says Lister instantly. “You can tell by the seat patterns.” — [freddie mercury voice] auuuuutism auuuuutism i want to ride my autism (note: this is summat @to-grill-a-mockingbird says and now i can never get it out of my head)

“He needs a night off.” "A night off from … what? His entire life?” Piero chuckles. “Yes.” — i mean ouch but also Yeah

“That was good news. He hasn’t been kidnapped. He just needed a nap.” “Can you not make a joke about this situation for like one fucking minute, Allister?” — could be the tism on my end but i didn't take this as a joke . jimmy needs a break, piero told them that, lister has seen enough to agree . (also: lister has Also contemplated running away so it makes sense he's less eager to bring jimmy back to ldn bc he doesn't see it as fixing the problem the same way rowan does)

Why do I always have to be the serious one? The worrier? Why can’t someone else do the worrying sometimes? — other ppl Do worry . but not so much that it becomes its own problem worthy of therapy

We save the deep chats for Jimmy. Jimmy doesn’t open up very often, but you know Jimmy will listen if you have something serious to say. — vs jimmy's wednesday narration 'we don't ever talk about deep stuff, me and lister bird' :((((

This whole bedroom is something out of twelve-year-old Lister’s wildest fantasies—it’s spacious and modern, with one floor-to-ceiling window, dark walls, LED lights behind the headboard, and a fifty-inch TV. — what u lack as a child you seek as an adult etc etc (space, material possessions, money)

Rowan’s room is always tidy. He puts away his clothes at the end of the day and makes his bed in the mornings. — always craving order & control :(

Rowan loves to criticize me about buying unnecessary things, but all I need to do is remind him of the velvet chaise longue in his bedroom that I’m pretty sure nobody has ever sat on. — comedy gold amidst the agony

He blinks at me. “You remembered my weird order?” — remembering ppl's orders is a love language

“Can I … ?” I shuffle on my feet. “Can we eat it in here?” — i hate that he's so uncertain n lacking in confidence while asking one of his best friends

I’ve always been deeply annoyed by what a high metabolism he has. I work out three times a week with a personal trainer just to stay toned. — rowan's fixation on body image makes me ✨nervous✨

“You were reading?” I ask, eyebrow raised. Lister narrows his eyes at me. “Wow, hilarious." — i stand by my 'lister loves to read but nobody ever assumes that or believes him bc their perception is skewed by him not gelling with academia' hc

“But don’t you see how that’s, like, still very fucked-up behavior, Rowan?” — GET HER JADE

And it’s scary that he thinks he’s completely fine. That this level of stress is normal. That he’s a functioning, well-adjusted human who is able to cope with being one of the most famous musicians in the world with absolutely no help or support whatsoever. — yeah :((

“You kissed him,” Rowan says. “So he decided to climb out of a window and run away.” “I mean, yeah, in summary.” — but no, realistically

Rowan wipes a tear from his eye. “Oh my God. So funny.” He’s properly pissing me off now. — give him a break roseph he's already mentally ill u don't have to embarrass him as well (/lh)

It’s a question I’ve asked myself every day for years. A question I’ve answered in daydreams, in nightmares, in conversations with myself in the shower. A question I still don’t know the answer to, and maybe never will. A question that doesn’t need an answer, now that I know for sure that Jimmy doesn’t like me back. — aaaaaagonyyyyy beyond power of speeeeeeech when the thing that u want is the only thing out of ur reach

“But … the circumstances of our relationship are so challenging. We live in very, very different worlds, and our lives are on very different trajectories. And sometimes I think relationships just can’t survive that.” — JUSTICE FOR LAIMONDI :(

Jimmy fell asleep almost immediately, a feat that would become less and less common as we all got older, but Lister and I couldn’t sleep because we were too busy watching funny YouTube videos on my phone, muffling laughs into our hands, trying not to wake anyone up. — BABY ARK MY CHILDREN

#i annotated this on friday but i've been too busy to write it up #so heyyyy guess who isn't ready to let this week go #anyway. i truly feel ghosted may be one of the best things to ever happen to this fandom #in the absence of iana at least #iwbftreread

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thelovelybitten · 3 months

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HII so TY SO SO much for rebloggin my stendy (kinda??) FIC!! :DDD im super glad u enjoyed it and i loved readin all the lil hashtag thingies ??!!! i would've responded to the reblog but im still not too sure how tumblr works,, or how to dm folks. BUT JUST TY SO MUCH! it means the world to me <33

of course !!! I loved it so so much :’) (dw abt Tumblr, at first it’s a doozy but you’ll get the hang of it !!) (I also write everything and anything in my tags, so thank u haha)

I know ur fic was more Wendy-centric for her development and character, (which, thank you—we love girlboss Wendy, I love her so) but the stendy got me really hooked just because of the way you wrote them ! I like being able to see their flaws as a couple—without wendy being perceived as a total bitch (like some anti’s in the fandom paint her out to be) and Stan being honest with his feelings instead of completely neglecting/ghosting her like he does. In the fic, Wendy does prioritize her life so she can build a life with Stan, but she doesn’t realize she’s hurting him in the process. It’s how the two of them should be written. They do have toxic traits in the show that are very questionable ( their jealousy, for starters… stan’s dependency on her, wendy’s insecurity with everything stan does that’s not controllable…) but it’s times like in this writing where they do grow a bit and finally accept they don’t work out. It’s extremely hard on them because they’ve been so co-dependent that they can’t see life without the other.

on that same coin however, people need to understand that they can work together but they have such big contrasts and complications that they have to work on for the relationship they want.

sometimes they just. need to be on their own to figure that out. and that’s why this story ended up being so good because Wendy found her worth and now knows what and who she is without him.

they need to take care—find themselves before they can have someone else.

Wendy needed this. She’s such an activist in the show and in this story…Stan at the time just wasn’t helping like she thought he was. And he knew. He needed to let go.

Wendy is her own self at the end. It’s so nice to see. We love character development and to see her find confidence in who Wendy Testaburger is and will continue to be.

it was really refreshing, really. thank u <3 thank u for giving wendy depth bc that’s my baby girl and I love her forever

FOR MY FOLLOWERS READ THIS FIC IMMEDIATELY >:(

(P.S. I’m also just a stendy lovebot, I’ll take my crumbs even if not intentional, lol) (they get back together in my mind but that what stories are for—different interpretations).

#viv answers #otp: I cant do it alone #stendy #stan x wendy #south park #no one gets them like I DO.#people just don't get it #so many people can’t accept that their ships have flaws that can make them fall out of love and THATS OKAY.#now they’re aged up in this fic—but my point still stands #let ur ships have ANGST !!!#LET THEM BE WHO THEY ARE WITHOUT THE OTHER FFS #they are their own individual selves before they’re a couple and I think people need to remember that #:’) <3 #that’s it that’s all thank u op it’s saved on my desktop !!!#everyone go read it immediately GOD DAMN U >:(

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zai-doodles · 1 year

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Ok ok I’m so sorry but I LOVE your thoughts on Fairytail and I’d love to hear more!!! (If that’s alright with you >.<)

How about your thoughts on the powers? Any specifically you really liked? Any you DIDN’T like? Any that are so cool in theory but their execution is… questionable? (cough cough Erza cough Mirajane)

I love u sm listen I have a whole thing written already just abt how I would change lucys powers bit since u name dropped erza imma write a new thing just for u

Like ok imma get v high fantasy nerdy bare with me but erza would be a DOPE paladin

Like ugh the biggest missed opportunities with erzas powers is that they never really explain or put any emotional significance on her armors or weapons were just like, yea idk she found that ig? Before the show?? And just has it???? And if it's damaged dw bc it just goes back to the magic closet and gets better :D

Like UGH ITS LAME and high key just an excuse to draw her in skimpy ugly ass armor YEA I SAID IT MORE OF THE ARMOR IS UGLY BITE ME

Back to the paladin thing, so paladins in dnd usually pledge themselves to a God and get their power from them or whatever, BUT there's also a different type of paladin called an oath paladin, where their power comes from an oath they've pledged rather than an entiy

So stay with me, erza as an oath paladin, who's oath is that she will always fight to protect her family as long as she breathes

Or some dramatic shit like that right??? So tower of heaven, she's a tiny child and makes this pledge to herself in the heat of the moment, it gives her a burst of magical energy bc shes doesn't say it but she subconsciously is staking her life on this oath

When she gets to fairy tail she tries to understand her magic more but finds it difficult to channel it unless someone is actively trying to hurt someone else

Her magic doesn't come naturally if she's the one being attacked, it has to be someone else

SO I have a lot written abt erza gray and natsu being the most weird sibling ever and in the mean time erza is simply training in more traditional fighting and swords man ship bc shes learned v quickly she can't always rely on her magic to carry her in a fight

OK SO LAST THING, as erza grows older she gains the blessing of the fairy queen Tatiana, not directly but she can FEEL her presence and it helps erza channel her magic more freely bc she has to accept thats is is part of this new strange family and protecting herself is just as important as protecting others because she needs to be alive to protect them

NVM I LIED THIS IS SO LONG SKHXJD

I'm so sorry so anyway-

In my mind fairy magic is like a creation type magic, tho u can't make something from nothing BUT since erzas oath is based around her family erza can make her magical armor and weapons based on her bonds with her family

Stay with me aixhks

Like she gets a chain mail sort of shall made out of dragon scales, they are fire resistant and cut like a blade, it's heavy so it limits mobility

However very soon after she also summond boots that make ice when she walks, that takes a lot of training with gray to get use to but the combination of the two allow almost full defense and mobility

Most of her armors and weapons are just random things shes found but these are special, their strength is reliant on her love for the person they connect with and the power increases when they are uses in defense of that person specifically

HOWEVER they take a lot of magical energy and erza doesn't always have control over WHAT the weapon will be, causing her to go a little crazy in terms of training herself to be damn near proficient in every weapon or fighting style she can think of

I dislike the canon ages being so young so in my mind I age them up like 3-4 years when canon starts and so when erza finally starts going out on jobs on her own she's constantly training and perfecting her technique, almost never allowing herself STILL to use more magically enhanced weapons unless she absolutely has to and that's my explanation for why she's so crazy strong??

When canon starts I kinda think she has at least 1 thing for every guild member, but they r very small with the exception of natsu, gray, mira and Makarov, the trade off being that those are still the hardest for her to use

Lil extra thing

Natsus armor is the cloak like I mentioned, but by the time canon starts it has an extra property where if the enemy is hit with it or touches it it causes burning and melting damage rather than slicing them from the sharp scales, if you are not en enemy the cloak does no harm

Grays boots start as more normal boots with the bottoms replaces with ice, however as their bond grows the shoes become knee high plated boots of ice, allowing even more chance for mobility since she can slide on her knees without breaking momentum, if she kicks an enemy with them equipped they are stunned or "frozen" for a small period of time.

Mira, ok so first it's just a simple gauntlet that looks more like some brass knuckles, but again, time passes and they become more intricate, by canon time the gauntlet is a full sleeve of weeving patterns and almost lace texture, the hand mimics miras demon form claw but the rest is the beauty and grace of her mira, the claw and talons can pierce almost anything and are very hard to control on that front so erza doesn't use them often since she doesn't usually try to inflict lethal damage on opponents, but it has a good amount of practical use when trying to clear paths or use the terrain to her advantage

I think erza gains weapons as she goes, not only from others like lucy, but eventually natsus cloak has a matching chest plate, grants boots come with daggers, etc

I have more ideas but this is so long I need to stop snhdlsnx

#zai talks #fairy tail #im so sorry this is soong and dumb ksbx

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diodellet · 1 year

Text

hi so im: caffeinated and ovulating

minors do not interact

(colorized: me spitballing some hcs abt closeted pillow princess jamil viper. ++beware incoherent rambling ahead.)

see the funny thing abt jamil is that once you get past his defensiveness, he would greedily accept any and all of your affections. and he would absolutely love being spoiled. not that he'd freely admit it aloud, but that's okay 😇😇his bodily reactions do most of the speaking for him (if you pay attention closely, u can spot what he likes and what he really likes)

it's a bit weird at first, not doing anything as you take the reins in pleasuring him. (lbr he probably scoffed a bit at seeing you make doubly sure that he's comfy and cushioned before continuing) but after you get him to come once, then it's pretty much smooth sailing from there. and doesn't that feel so much better, jamil? to say that it feels good and to vocalize your pleasure? (which is a big plus when going down on him/fucking him from behind because his moans are a very good motivator.)

ig good luck when jamil outright praises you? like, it's already a treat getting to see/hear/feel him chasing his own pleasure so to add that (him hanging onto a semblance of coherence just for you) to the mix....it has definitely led to you overstimulating him from eagerness. it just feels like a rare thing idk. he kinda reads to me as someone who doesn't enjoy idle chatting much at the beginning of sex (unless it's dirty talk. in that case then: double down, don't let his embarrassment stop you.)

oH for sure, another thing that jamil needs is being able to have a point of contact with you. on your shoulder, around your wrist, atop your waist. it's the touch starvation it's so that he can stay grounded you know? you did have a tendency to get carried away (see above paragraph), so, there. the tangible proof of jamil viper's clinginess is found in the red scratch marks along your back and the bruises dotting your waist (not including the other marks he intentionally leaves on your person)

and since he's got acts of service as one of his main love languages ofc he'd make sure that u get off too dw no one's getting blueballed, he'll make sure that you both get to enjoy the happy hormones++top tier aftercare (in other words: ha. good luck sneaking away now that you've fucked out most of his self-consciousness, he will be shamelessly affectionate now.)

what happens when

ure averse to on-the-spot physical affection? no im not hinting at another spontaneous smut draft whatre u talking abt? ((sadly i cant just write pure pwp, im still In My Feelings so the thing might be hurt/comfort but if wcidfy ch 3 doesnt come out ill post that instead as a consolation HUHU))

#mdni #dellet-asides #ITS 3 AM WHERE I AM RN SO I CAN YELL INTO THE VOID #cant wait to be embarrassed looking at this when i wake up #whats the equivalent of a hangover for coffee #twst #reader x jamil viper #jamil viper pillow princess agenda

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wildflower-playground · 1 year

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hi!!! i love ur blog and scrolling through the tags, especially the advice one when im having a bad day, so tysm for that ^^

if i could ask for advice myself, my partner currently just offered to be my cg and im not really sure how to have conversations like that with him T-T. like, what boundaries id need to set and stuff like that bc im not that open about regressing to others tbh. im not asking for an exact guide dw, but more like if u have any idea on what i should say to him. sorry for the ramble, u can probably tell im kinda nervous abt this ^~^"

hello there!! no need to be sorry or nervous, i love getting questions! and i’m so glad my blog has been helpful to you :]

i think what you say to your partner depends on what you want! maybe think a bit about whether you want a caregiver, or are you more comfortable regressing alone? you don’t ever have to agree to let someone be your caregiver just because you’re partners! it’s your regression, so you should be able to regress however is most helpful to you. :]

and of course i’m assuming here that he’s already aware of what regression is (and what it isn’t — ie, anything sxual) but if he’s not that’s another important thing to go over together!!

if you decide you’re open to having him as your caregiver, i would say some important things to talk about would be, firstly, what you both see the relationship looking like! does that mean he’ll be actively playing with you and helping feed you or dress you (or even changing diapers if you use them)? or would it mostly be checking in on you occasionally, making sure you’re safe on your own and feeling okay? in other words, how hands-on do you want him to be and what do you think you’d need help with — and maybe you don’t know yet, that’s okay! just keep talking about it and you can figure it out together as you go.

another important thing to talk about is boundaries and rules. do you think you’d benefit from a few rules, maybe about things like bedtime or tv or speaking kindly to others, or would that be triggering for you? and would your partner feel comfortable enforcing a rule? you don’t ever have to have rules or reprimands, it is truly not necessary if they’re hurting either of you in any way!!

and as for boundaries, just a few ideas to talk about are things like, what will you both do if he’s too tired or unwell to care for you, what you want to do if you regress in public, how to communicate your feelings or needs if you’re unable to speak, what nicknames you both do or don’t like, and how you’ll both handle things like tantrums, accidents, or trauma symptoms.

and also, of course, consider whether either of you have any triggers or other issues that might cause problems, and talk about it beforehand. i can’t stress the point enough that if there’s something either of you don’t feel comfortable with, even if it’s something “expected” in a caregiver and kiddo type of relationship, you can simply ditch that thing!! :]

anyway this got so super long, i’m sorry about that, but i hope it’s helpful!! i wish you the best of luck talking with your partner, and feel free to come back and let me know how it goes!

#bee.answers #advice #sfw caregiver #anon

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sunlightmurdock · 2 years

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i am facing the fears of coming off anon here but anyways here’s all the roosters as “friends”:

i feel like pursuit!rooster would be the easiest to get along with if ur “normal” like me. he’s fairly loyal, maybe he’s pinning after his best friend while dating another girl (everyone can’t be perfect ok), but besides that he’s pretty decent & rlly funny too! he’ll finally fuck u after 8 years of rlly sexual eye contact & soft physical touches in ur mutual best friends fiancés parents cabin too! & if u call him daddy or lieutenant it makes it even better!

mfiy!bradley seems to also be “semi” normal besides being an ashole towards girls…so overall guys (until he hooks up with their sister… *cough jake* who seemingly had no issue with bradley being a dick up until he did what he does TO EVERY GIRL to his little sister) love him!! he’s secretly a whore for u if ur rlly feminist though, at first he finds u annoying then he realizes how much he wants u to ride his dick & tell him how much of an asshole he is (while u choke him) for being sexist.

tip!rooster? def a good friend if you’ve got daddy issues. he can talk to the “younger” crowd with no attachments. gives amazing advice, however this might become an issue in the future if there’s physical attraction. no really, he has a thing for younger girls who have daddy issues & he can’t help himself bc it somehow fixes his own daddy issues.

subrosa!rooster? an absolute king. he’s friends with everyone, even old people. like literally he’ll go to a movie with a 58 year old… until he meets ur daughter & wants to fuck her…. that’s when things go south in ur relationship (i’m sorry ice. ik u love nick’s kid until u found out he was the reason ur daughter had a “sore throat so she can’t talk a lot at dinner”)

foroldtimessake!rooster is the best friend you could ask for. he’ll be ur dd AND fuck u the next morning in bed (that happens to be at ur dad’s house who also happens to be his god father). three times, twice with just his mouth/fingers. what an amazing friend wow! no but fr he’s such a sweetheart, he will fuck u like a whore but then treat u like a princess. what a king.

now nervesofsteele!rooster would be a good friend but a better frenemie. he will literally fuck the brat out of you without asking (yes there’s always consent dw) & wont even except ur “thank you” ‘s. he’ll do it for free, WHILE simultaneously catching feelings for you. now that’s a good friend if u ask me. esp considering ur older brother is his arch nemesis.

ceasefire!rooster is so sweet to you. the best boy, you might even have a crush on him. the only issue is he doesn’t reciprocate the crush… he actually wants to fuck ur mom, which he will never admit to bc he knows it’s gonna hurt ur feelings. he’ll always be there for you, unless ur complaining abt ur mom, then he’ll for some odd reason be on her side.

dogfight!rooster (this is my favorite fic of urs besides pursuit & sub rosa, not like every fic u right isn’t amazing… it’s just u got friends to lovers to enemies to hate sex SO good here) is an amazing friend. except for when he catches feelings. then it ruins everything. but you figured out if u pretend to hate him it actually turns him on & the hate sex is so good that even hangman wishes he could be as much of a bitch as u can so someone could tame him that well.

sowhydotheycallyourooster!rooster would be sweet but for some reason i feel like he could be critical and condescending. mf is always judging ur s/o’s but that is j bc he secretly wants to be them.

helpinghand!rooster will gossip with u abt work drama & drama in general. i’m fr he’s a gossip addict. everyone knows this. except sometimes he can use the gossip to his advantage like when u told him ur ex didn’t make him cum & that very night he ended up in ur bedroom.

i’m done that was quite fun tbh

omg hi!! I reblogged one of your posts earlier and had no idea it was you!! You’re too sweet for all of this!

Pursuit rooster would be such a good friend bc he’s fiercely loyal but I think all the sexual tension and pining would finish me off

I absolutely think that MFIY Bradley is someone that believes that guys and girls can’t be friends bc they’ll always end up fucking. And then some headstrong girl becomes his best friend and he’s like oh wait, maybe we can. And then they probably fuck

TiP Rooster is a whole can of worms, I think pre-Hawaii he probably would’ve been fine as a friend. During Hawaii is his off the rails era and post Hawaii… well… you guys’ll see

Sub Rosa Rooster!! Oh my god “sorry I’m the reason your daughter had a sore throat and couldn’t talk at dinner” killed meeeeee!! Yeah he’s a great friend. He’ll be besties with your dad - until your dad tries to ruin his career for sleeping w you :p

For OLD TIMES SAKE ROOSTER MY BELOVED!! I loved this so much, this comment alone made me want to write about them again! 😭

Nerves of Steel rooster is an incredible friend if you stay on his good side but an even better fuck if you get on his bad side and I stand by that

Ceasefire rooster literally being the guy from Stacy’s mom has killed me 😂😂

I 100% agree with the dogfight rooster analysis, especially the his feelings ruining it part. I’m a firm believer that when rooster feels things, he feels them in a big way

This was the most perfect thing in the entire world!! Thank you so much for writing it <33

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joonlic1ous · 10 months

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hello me again xD a very small question canonically in your au, how does esau become or become dark esau?

(sorry if you posted it and I didn't see it :"v)

I believe I did not ever post it, so dw (I don't info dump abt my au much 💔)

It's difficult to think about when I realize that I don't have a plot surrounding Jacob and Esau and why they split up(their bond is just too good for me to think of something) but they are both in the wrong there.

As much as I draw Esau and present him as a big innocent guy(which is true he is baby) He doesn't really think when he snaps. He doesn't have anger issues at all, but can get nasty when mad. He did not hurt Jacob, but ruined his own(and Jacob's life) just because of a stupid decision

In order to take a devil deal, a person must sign a pact(the pact item reference!!) In which they agree and accept everything that will be done to them in order to gain a certain ability (it's not legal but the agreements between Sheol and Cathedral are a different story)

CW for disturbing content below(?)

Esau, of course, is illiterate. He wouldve stopped if he knew how to read what's written in the pact. Judas who offered him the "help" completely ignored the fact that Esau doesn't know what he's getting himself into it was basically like "I receive your approval you receive super cool demon powers"

People who sign to become revenants get the worst treatment, the excuse being "the more pain they feel the more vengeful and aggressive they will be" (kind of how things like bloody lust and other sh items work)

Esau went through. A lot. He was tortured and starved, and since demons are really nasty he was also humiliated a lot which was not even written in the pact. But he did not object, because he thought they were helping him. After they finally let him die was like. Reborn with a new body I guess. But he looked nothing like a real revenant, he still had a lot of features that looked human. In short, he was hurt so much just to come out "wrong"

He never had time to think, only when everything was over he realized what had been done to him. He's a new person now, his brother won't recognize him anymore, and he feels the undying urge to take revenge on everyone who wronged him(or just thinks they wronged him!)

Sorry abt this text wall I know my au is really lighthearted, this is like a side story to it I guess? I believe I once drew like a diagram of this but it's outdated 💔

#ask me junlicous #tboi esau #tboi dark esau #tboi headcanons #not art #sacrament of parting #tboi au

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pixie-dust-and-pain · 2 years

Text

The Technicalities Of Kissing Girls

Sumary: Adora and Catra sitting on a tree F-A-L-L-I-N-G

a/n:

based off a comment on red chrysanthemum (ao3 series. should i post it here???? milf adora???) like yes. this is quality content. i love you. this is for you. (rainbowlake on ao3 is my bb)

ALSO I FIND THIS SO FUCMING FUNNY NOT ADORA THINKING KISSING GIRLS HAS DIFFERENT WAYS LIKE PLS BITCH ONLY THING YOUVE EVER KISSED IS CATRA'S ASS STFU

also i accidentally wrote the forbidden forest instead of the whispering woods so now this is hp (ew jk rolling

ANOTHER THING: when my bf kissed me for the first time she said "you're a horrible kisser" then kissed me again and said "dw we can practice" and this was like a year ago and i still dream abt that. I'm dfkjfbkjghkgf

Adora can't remember the last time she's spoken this much. Her jaw hurts from the effort, and her cheeks ache, having smiled far too much for far too long. It doesn't bother her, really, given that it's because of Catra.

She's so irrationally happy it's almost funny. Actually, it is funny, because Catra laughed when Adora snorted, so it must be. This is nothing new, the tree branch beneath her hands, hard wood digging into her thighs, the cold wind blowing at her face as she shoves leaves away, but it all feels precious. She feels drunk. Drunk not on alcohol (though she's sure Catra is), but rather on happiness.

Laughter bubbling up inside of her, too much to contain, her grin never faltering as she leans onto Catra. It's too much. The happiness, it's overflowing, too much to contain within her body. It doesn't matter, she doesn't care. They're young and stupid, this is what they're supposed to be doing. Getting drunk and looking at the sky, sitting on a random tree in the Whispering Woods, trying to form shapes and constellations.

"Mara," Catra had murmured when Adora had told her how the stars were shaped like a woman, and Adora had immediately wanted to kiss her. That's been happening a lot lately, her being overcome with the urge to kiss Catra. Almost everything Catra does makes Adora want to kiss her.

She stares at Catra, now, and wonders for the umpteenth time that night how she's able to breathe when Catra looks like that. Her hair blows slightly with the wind, the short strands somehow falling perfectly into place, unlike her own, which get in her mouth and on her eyes every so often.

The sun has set a long time ago, but the little torch they hold illuminates them both well enough. Adora almost wishes it didn't. Almost.

Catra's hair is like chocolate, dark strands twisting and merging with the others, her hair different shades due to the light, soft and fluffy, and Adora has to fight the urge to reach out and touch them. Her skin glows under the torchlight, the harsh yellow of it soft on her features, tanned warm skin looking so beautiful she wants to cry. Catra, everything about her is just so right and so perfect it makes her want to cry. The light only exaggerates her lashes, their shadows clearly visible on her cheek as she blinks slowly, tired. Blue and yellow eyes shine, one like liquid gold, gleaming in the dark, and the other as though someone has taken the sky and placed it in her eyes. Her eyes contain the whole world. Adora turns pink, suddenly shy. She feels like a child with a crush.

She continues admiring Catra, staring shamelessly. She's confessed now, hasn't she, despite the whole ordeal being so painful? She has a right to stare.

She stares at the slope of Catra's neck, the dark material covering it, hugging her skin. She stares at the bare skin of Catra's arms, the two marks on her bicep and the slight muscles. She's more lean than muscular. She looks small, too, arms wrapped around her knees, hugging them to her chest.

Small. Catra isn't small-the word just doesn't fit her.

Vertically challenged, Adora muses.

She stares a little more than necessary at Catra's cleavage. It isn't her fault; she's practised years of restraint. Just a peak shouldn't hurt (she can practically hear Glimmer mocking her, even in her head, for how pathetically whipped she is). The suit cinches at the waist, and Adora stares at that for a long time too. She wants to hug Catra from behind, she wants to wrap an arm around that waist, maybe just hold it. She needs to stop.

But it's been years since she's been happy with Catra. Sometimes, when she was in the rebellion, she dreaded it. She hated Bow and she hated Glimmer and she hated herself for hating them, but maybe if they were a little cruel, a little evil, a little bit like anything they Horde had told her that they were, maybe she wouldn't have left Catra. Maybe she and Catra could've been happy. It's futile, she knows it is, and incredibly selfish, too, but maybe they both would've been spared a lot of pain had they both just stayed put.

She glances at Catra again, who's staring back at her. Catra grins at her, and Adora beams back, her smile dopey and huge. Catra's smile makes her happy, everything about Catra makes her happy. Funny, that is, before all Catra managed to do was make her sad. Sad, upset, and guilty. Guilty for leaving her behind, knowing that Catra's pride and hurt would never let her turn her back on the Horde, guilty for hurting her, knowing there was no other way.

She's filled with a strange feeling. It's more than happiness, more than anything, she watches the way Catra's nimble fingers tear at the peel of the fruit in front of her, the little sparkle of wonder in her eyes as she bites into it. Catra has recently discovered what fruit is, and she is obsessed. Wait until she finds out about cake.

She smiles when Catra's tongue peeks out, a quick flash of pink, to lick the juice from her lips and she purrs, her whole body vibrating. All the pain she's been through is worth it, she thinks, if it's for Catra.

She wants to be with her so badly it hurts. She wants to hug her and kiss her and hold her hand and talk with her for hours, and she wants to make up for lost time and shower her with love all the time to make up for the times she couldn't. She just wants to touch her. She wants to trace her fingers up and down her spine, lift her up and spin her in circles, she wants to be wrapped up in her as she rests, she wants to hold her so badly it aches her. She wonders if that's a little pathetic of her.

She remembers the kiss they shared at the Heart of Etheria, it was a gentle press of lips, more than a peck but not a full-on make-out session either. She wants to recreate it again, she wants to press herself flush against Catra, wants to feel her soft lips under her own, wants to run a hand through her hair and wrap another around her waist. She wants to kiss her so bad it hurts.

She's too scared to do it, though.

She reaches for her hand instead. Catra's palm meets her halfway, their hands awkwardly trying to slot themselves into place, hungry for the intimacy. They don't fit right in perfectly on the first try, rather, Catra's nail scratches the side of her palm, and it takes them a minute to adjust themselves. It's worth it, though, at the end, when Catra slightly squeezes Adora's hand, and Adora swears her heart skips a beat.

Catra turns to look at her, and smiles slowly, hesitantly. Adora smirks back.

"Aw, you totally have a crush on me," she says, teasing, because she doesn't know how to be sappy and sweet and romantic with Catra, because that isn't them, and because she likes the way Catra's ears turn red and her tail spikes up, "How embarrassing, "

Catra bristles, "We're literally dating!" she exclaims, glaring at Adora in mock annoyance.

Adora sighs, the stupid smirk still on her face, "Still,"

She looks at Catra, still grinning, and she can hear the blood rushing in her ears and her heart pounding in her chest, threatening to claw out of her ribcage and come out. She's sure Catra can hear it, too. Dammit.

She's afraid she'll do something she regrets, she's afraid she'll kiss Catra. She chooses to focus on the soft way Catra's ears are shaped, mentally repeating the same mantra: do not kiss her. She thinks she'll do it anyway, and the thought scares her. And then Catra kisses her.

Or, rather, Catra leans in for a kiss, and Adora's brain malfunctions. She doesn't know how to kiss a girl. How does it even work? Is a girl's mouth different than a boy's (although she's never kissed a boy, either, but she's sure it's a lot simpler than kissing Catra)? She panics, and then does what anybody else in her place would do, she slams her face into Catra's. Catra gasps before they're both set off-balance, hurtling to the floor and off the tree branch they sat on at full speed.

Catra yelps, grabbing onto Adora's hand as her other one grips the branch. They're dangling off the branch with only Catra's hand holding them up.

Adora gapes up at the branch, then squints, "Is that a mouse?"

Catra squeaks, terrified, letting go of the branch in a panic, and they both come crashing down. Fuck.

Adora groans in pain, and barely registers Catra on top of her until she feels her move.

"Ow," Catra huffs, then looks down at her, smirking, thankfully not upset and rather amused. "Hey Adora,"

Adora clears her throat, "Hi,"

"Why so aggresive?" she asks, head tilted to the side as she stares at her intently.

Adora's grateful that she isn't standing up, because she's sure that her knees would buckle if she was, "Um, I-"

"You know," Catra drawls, "If you don't want to kiss me, you could just say so instead of slamming my teeth in with your head, we all take time to-"

"No!" Adora grabs at Catra's hands, wincing slightly at the pain that shoots up her side at the sudden movement, "No, no, no. I don't-it's not like that! I do want to kiss you, I want to so bad but I don't know how to kiss a girl, you know? And I don't want to disappoint you and..." she trails off when Catra chuckles pressing a chaste kiss at her temple.

Adora gulps, the nervousness crawling back as she tries to control her breathing. At this rate, she's going to end up hyperventilating and huffing and puffing into their fucking kiss.

"My love, you're a horrible kisser," Catra mutters quietly, tracing the outline of Adora's face, finger gently brushing against her skin. Adora, pathetically, tries to inch up, to kiss her again to prove otherwise.

"Am not, I'll show you-" Catra cuts her off, pressing herself down on Adora, lips firmly planted on hers as she runs a hand through Adora's hair, fingers slipping through the golden locks. Catra's lips are soft above hers, and she registers how Catra tastes vaguely sweet, like the fruit she was eating, but more than that she tastes so much like Catra it's overwhelming. She pulls back after a long time, and Adora stares up at her, grinning goofily.

"I love you,"

Catra grins at that, pink dusting her cheeks, "I love you too. And I stand by my earlier statement, you're a horrible kisser," She smiles wider at Adora's little huff, and leans down again, lips ghosting over hers, "Don't worry, we can practice,"

I KISSED MY GF THREE TIMES IN FRONT OF OUR WHOLE CLASS TODAY THE COUNTRY WE LIVE IN CAN LEGALLY MURDER YOU FOR BEING GAY I FEEL VERY ANDJSLKNSLD MAYBE LIFE IS BEAUTIFUL AND AMAZING YK

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